HEY. I’M KRISTEN.

First things first, I’m glad you’re here.

I say that a lot because I grew up feeling like no one ever wanted me in the room. As a child, writing became the way I made sense of the world around me and within me and now it’s the way I connect with people who feel a little out of place in the margins as well.

I write to give language to pain that the church often bypasses.

I bring people together so that they can experience what it feels like to make eye contact with people who won’t shy away from their pain, their trauma, their triggers, or their differences.

All of what I do exists at the intersection of faith, trauma, and humanity and is rooted in the belief that God made us human on purpose. My works is for people who are asking hard questions, grieving what they used to believe, aching for a version of faith that doesn’t demand they cut off parts of themselves to belong, or simply wanting to learn how better to care for people who are in pain.

I write essays and books, teach courses, and build community to invite people into what I call The Liminal Way—a slower, gentler, more honest way of being with God, others, and themselves. It’s a path that honors nuance, names pain without rushing to fix it, and holds space for both ache and hope.

I’m married to the guy I met in a room called “The Ugly Furniture Room” at Bible College when we were 19 years old. His name is Zach and he skateboards and was in a punk band, so there really was no hope for me at all. He had me at, “So. What’s your minor?”

I’m the mother of five people - Jonah, Emery, Anna, Chloe, and Lydia.

I’m a survivor of trauma multiple times over. My first book, Even if He Doesn’t, talks about a few of those traumas and how pain changes the way we engage with our faith - for better or worse.

I’m a survivor of spiritual abuse. After over a decade of youth and worship ministry, Zach and I experienced abuse at the spiritual hands of a pastor and it completely derailed our lives and, for a while, my faith. We spent years thrashing and healing and we both stumbled into work that allows us to guide others in their thrashing and healing as well. My next book, to be published in March, 2026, will tell this story.

I’m neurodivergent, parenting multiple neurodivergent children. At this point, we’re basically Pokemon trainers over here with our diagnoses. Gotta catch ‘em all! And we have.

I have struggled with my mental health in frightening ways. I didn’t always have the language to name depression and anxiety which made it hard to live and function in my life. The faith I grew up with didn’t make room for loving Jesus and being chronically sad and unsettled. After years of trying to pray it away, feeling ashamed, and believing that my chemical imbalances were a result of my spiritual failing, I got help. When I stopped treating my mental illnesses as if they were spiritual issues, my life got better.

The sum of all my experiences has invited me to unlearn a lot of the theology I grew up with and has changed the way I engage with my life, with people, and with my faith. I’m grateful to have found a path through my pain that’s allowed me to connect with others and help them find what I’ve found to be true as well - that faith can be beautiful, that God is really kind, and that he created us human on purpose, not to overcome our humanity, but to find His goodness in it.

If you’d like to keep up with my writing, I do most of it on my blog, The Liminal Way.

I’m also pretty active on instagram.

This year, I launched The Liminal Way—a community built for people walking through the in-between spaces of faith. It’s a gentle, trauma-informed space for those on non-linear spiritual journeys—where questions are welcome, certainty isn’t required, and your belonging isn’t conditional.

Wherever you came from and wherever you’re going… I’m glad you’re here.

- Kristen