— The Church Hurt Me. Jesus Didn’t —

“The difficult and sacred work of learning to love the Bride of Christ again after being hurt by those who were supposed to represent Him.”

Before I begin, I want to acknowledge something.

This is not a story I have ever shared publicly.

In fact, outside of a few trusted people in my life, I have rarely talked about it at all.

Not because it didn’t deeply impact me.

Not because it wasn’t one of the most painful experiences of my life.

But because church hurt is incredibly difficult to explain to people who haven’t experienced it.

It’s hard to talk about the place where you met Jesus becoming the place where you experienced some of your deepest pain.

It’s hard to explain how people carrying the name of Christ can sometimes leave wounds that take years to heal.

But I also know I’m not the only person carrying these wounds.

So today, for the first time, I’m sharing a small piece of my journey.

— The Church Hurt Me. Jesus Didn’t —

Several years ago, I experienced a level of spiritual trauma that deeply wounded me. It was the kind of church hurt you only hear about in the news, not something you ever imagine happening in your own life. At least, that’s what I thought until it happened to me.

It was through this experience that I realized how absolutely rampant spiritual abuse is within many churches.

It was through this experience that I realized just how damaging and traumatic this evil is on victims and their families.

Ever since that trauma, the concept of church has often felt painful, confusing, and fearful.

The spiritual abuse I encountered changed the way I experience church itself.

Since then, I have spent years trying to find my way back.

Trying to trust the church again.

Trying to trust church leadership again.

Trying to trust church systems again.

Trying to trust people again.

The truth is, no matter how hard I’ve tried, it hasn’t happened the way I thought it would.

I’ve come a long way in my healing.

I’ve continued attending church.

I’ve continued worshiping.

I’ve continued seeking God.

But it’s never been quite the same.

As a counselor trained in trauma and spiritual abuse, I carried a tremendous amount of the emotional weight from what happened. I loved the people impacted. I loved the church. I believed in what the church was supposed to represent.

I think that’s one reason this trauma has been so difficult for me to overcome.

The other reason is that this experience didn’t happen in a vacuum. Like many survivors, I was already carrying layers of previous wounds and trauma that needed healing. Every layer of trauma, makes the healing process harder to sort through.

Of all the parts of recovery, finding my way back into church community has been one of the hardest.

It’s difficult to know how much of that struggle is my trauma, how much is the cultural shift taking place within many churches today, and how much is simply the fact that I have changed.

The answer is probably all three.

Trauma changes people! Which is why it is so hard to process and work through. This trauma has changed me in ways, those closest to me recognize. Creating a new version of me I often can’t recognize. Healing requires a process of reconciling the older version of self with the new version of self. Hopefully, allowing the traumatic event to make us more like Christ, stronger in our resolve, and more compassionate to others who are hurting.

Deep down, I do believe there are good churches.

I know there are good and godly people.

God has faithfully placed many of them in my life.

In fact, I’ve been blessed to be part of some wonderful churches throughout my life.

I found Jesus in a little church when I was fifteen years old.

I attended churches in high school and college where I experienced genuine community, discipleship, and love.

I’ve seen the Church at its very best.

But I’ve also seen the Church at its worst.

And once you’ve been deeply wounded in a place that was supposed to be safe, it changes you.

It changes the way you walk into a sanctuary.

It changes the way you listen to sermons.

It changes the way you trust those in leadership.

It changes the way you worship.

It changes the way you interpret warning signs that other people might overlook.

It changes the way you participate in church.

For a long time, I felt frustrated because I couldn’t just “get over it and move on.”

I thought healing meant returning to who I was before the trauma.

I thought faithfulness meant pretending the wounds no longer existed.

I thought forgiveness would somehow erase the impact of what happened.

But healing has looked very different than I expected.

Healing has not been forgetting.

Healing has not been minimizing.

Healing has not been forcing trust where trust has not yet been rebuilt.

Instead, healing has been learning to bring my pain honestly before God.

It has been allowing Him to sit with me in the grief.

It has been learning that Jesus is not threatened by my questions, my disappointment, or my fear. Jesus is not disappointed with my fear of church. He understands. He was there!

Most importantly, my healing has been learning to separate Jesus from the people who misrepresented Him.

In some of my darkest moments, He was the only reason I attended church services.

I remember sitting with tears streaming down my face not long after everything happened, talking to a dear friend who had been a counselor for many years.

“I hate the church,” I told her.

At the time, I meant it.

The pain felt overwhelming.

The betrayal felt unbearable.

The thought of ever trusting a church again felt impossible.

I’ll never forget her response.

With incredible compassion she simply said:

“That’s okay, honey. Just don’t hate Jesus.”

I needed someone to tell me that it was okay for awhile to hate the church who shattered our lives. It was okay to hate the pain forced into our lives by the pastors who were called to shepherd the vulnerable. Secondly, I needed the reminder to cling to Jesus through the pain.

Because while people had hurt me, Jesus had not.

While leaders had failed me, Jesus had not.

While systems had disappointed me, Jesus had not.

While people claiming to represent Him had wounded me deeply, Jesus had never once abandoned me.

Those words have stayed with me for years.

In fact, God has brought me back to them over and over again throughout my healing journey.

Because the truth is, there were seasons when walking away from church felt easier than staying.

There were seasons when the idea of church membership, church involvement, and church community felt overwhelming. This season seems to be quite elongated.

There were seasons when I wasn’t sure I could ever love the Church again. Thankfully, I’ve learned to love the Biblical Church, and separate it from the church that hurt me.

But a life without Jesus was never an option.

Without Jesus, I realized I had no hope.

And slowly, over time, God began teaching me something I desperately needed to learn:

The people who hurt me carried His name, but they did not reflect His heart.

Jesus did not manipulate me.

Jesus did not abuse His authority.

Jesus did not ignore my pain.

Jesus was not aggressive, intimidating, or hostile.

Jesus did not abandon me.

I came across this quote in a book I’m reading after posting this and knew it was from the Lord.

“ I try to picture an immovable power. Magda how’s lost her faith. She and many others. “ I can’t believe in a God who would let this happen.,” they say. I understand what they mean. And yet I’ve never found it difficult to see that it isn’t God who is killing us in gas chambers, in ditches, on cliff sides, on 186 white stairs. God doesn’t run the death camps. People do.” — Dr. Edith Eva Eger, The Choice

This morning, I found myself discouraged again.

Recent events within the church world stirred up old questions and old fears. Even something as simple as a conversation about church membership felt surprisingly difficult.

For many people, membership is a joyful next step.

For me, it feels much more complicated.

When you’ve been hurt by a church family, becoming part of another church family can feel terrifying.

You want to trust.

You want to belong.

But your nervous system remembers what happened last time. It’s a process to calm down the heightened nervous system and this takes time, it takes patience, understanding, and mostly it takes a whole lot of Jesus.

Church hurt is difficult to talk about because many people don’t understand it.

Some people minimize it.

Some people dismiss it.

Others make you feel like you’re overreacting.

And when trust has been broken, sharing your story can feel almost impossible.

Tonight, as I was wrestling with all of this, I found myself asking God:

“How hard do I keep fighting for church?”

“When do I stop fighting to find your way back into a safe church?”

And I felt Him gently remind me of something I needed to hear.

My focus was never supposed to be on finding the perfect church.

My focus is supposed to be on Him.

When I focus on Jesus, the things that frighten me about church don’t seem quite so frightening.

I don’t go to church because of people.

I don’t go to church because of the pastoral staff.

I don’t go to church for anyone in the congregation; I go because Jesus is worthy of my worship.

Trauma has a way of pulling our attention toward danger.

It keeps us scanning.

Watching.

Evaluating.

Protecting ourselves.

And while those responses make sense, they can also become distractions that pull our eyes away from Christ.

The answer isn’t pretending church hurt didn’t happen.

The answer isn’t forcing trust before we’re ready.

The answer isn’t ignoring wisdom or discernment.

But perhaps part of healing is learning to place our focus back where it belongs.

Not on the failures of people.

Not on the disappointments of institutions.

But on Jesus.

I’m still working through all of this myself.

I don’t have all the answers.

But I think the answer I needed today was simple:

If church hurt has left you discouraged, confused, fearful, or exhausted, keep your eyes on Jesus.

Talk to Him.

Pray to Him.

Worship Him.

Bring Him your questions.

Bring Him your wounds.

Bring Him your fears.

The church hurt me.

Jesus didn’t.

And little by little, He is teaching me how to love His Bride again.

Hebrews 12:2 — “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith…”

Psalm 121:1-2 — “I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…”

Deuteronomy 31:8 — “He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Hebrews 13:5 — “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

Matthew 28:20 — “Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Psalm 34:18 — “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 147:3 — “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

1 Peter 5:7 — “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”

—- Reflection —-

I suspect many of you understand exactly what I mean.

How many of you have been hurt in a church?

How many of you have struggled to trust church again after enduring spiritual abuse?

How many of you attend church but still keep part of yourself guarded?

How many of you have found church overwhelming, triggering, or emotionally exhausting at times?

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

ChurchHurt #SpiritualAbuse #ChurchTrauma #FaithAfterTrauma #HealingFromChurchHurt #JesusDidntHurtMe #KeepYourEyesOnJesus #ChristianHealing #HopeAfterHurt #HealingJourney #ChurchHealing #TraumaInformedFaith #ReligiousTrauma #SpiritualHealing #FaithJourney #christiancounseling

Part 1:
“Women, Do We Matter?”

—- What Is a Woman Worth? ——

To the Women Who Love Jesus and Long to Serve Him Faithfully

“If you ask me for the most common diagnosis among the people I treat, I wouldn’t say depression or post-traumatic stress disorder, although these conditions are all too common among those I’ve known, loved, and guided to freedom.

No, I would say hunger.

We are hungry.

We are hungry for approval, attention, affection. We are hungry for the freedom to embrace life and to really know and be ourselves.”

— Dr. Edith Eva Eger, The Choice: Embrace the Possible

• Yesterday morning, I wrote a public letter to the Southern Baptist Convention, SBC pastors, leaders, and church members.
  I shared my heart about some of the dissonance I experienced while reading about the SBC’s recent decision regarding women serving as pastors or holding authority over men in the church. I acknowledged that I do not have all of the details. I stated that ultimately I support the decision, but was saddened by a lack of compassion, acknowledgement of women’s value, and how Jesus modeled the importance of women in ministry. In the post, I shared simply shared my heart. It was a call to the leaders of the SBC to stand for Biblical principles, but to be sure to do so with the love and grace intended in God’s word. While acknowledging the vital role of women within the church.

What I did not expect was for that letter to resonate with so many people. Wow!

I did not expect the thousands of views. I did not expect the personal messages from women thanking me for speaking up and bringing attention to an issue many of us have experienced within our church communities. I did not expect to hear personal stories from women who shared many of the same feelings and experiences but perhaps did not feel brave enough to voice them publicly.

Since yesterday, I have read many comments and messages from women who love Jesus deeply.
Women who have faithfully served in the Southern Baptist Church for decades, one lady states she’s been in the Southern Baptist Church for almost 70 years.

I heard from…

Women who teach children.
Women who mentor young believers.
Women who disciple other women.
Women who lead ministries.
Women who prepare meals.
Women who pray faithfully for pastors, church leaders, church members, and their communities.
Women who serve quietly behind the scenes.
Women who comfort the hurting.
Women who carry burdens for their churches that most people never see.

These women are the unsung heroes of the Church.

Thank you to the women who shared your heart with me. As I read your stories, one thought kept coming to mind:

Women want to have a purpose.
Women want to be seen.
Women want to be valued.
Women want to be respected.
Women want to know they matter.

Yes, there are women who desire to preach from the pulpit. But most women simply want to know that they matter. They want to know that they have purpose. They want to know that their gifts are welcomed in God’s Kingdom and that their contributions are valued. They want to know there is a place for them in God’s Kingdom and that the gifts God has given them matter.

Truthfully, this is not just a woman’s desire. It is a deeply human desire.
Every person longs to be valued, respected, appreciated, and to belong. Every believer should desire to use their God-given gifts to serve within their church home and within their community.

Ladies, as I read your messages, I realized something profound…

Not a single woman wrote to me demanding to stand in a pulpit.
Not a single woman wrote to me about desiring high leadership positions in the church.

Most were writing to me about something much deeper.

They were writing to share their pain, hurt, and their desire to know that their efforts for God’s Kingdom matter.
They wanted to know that the years of serving, praying, teaching, loving, sacrificing, encouraging, mentoring, and carrying others were seen by both God and His people.

Beneath so many of the messages seemed to be the same question:

“Do I Matter?”

Stay tuned for part 2. “Do We Matter?”

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

“You Have to Feel It, To Heal It”

One of the greatest misconceptions I see in counseling is the belief that healing comes from avoiding our feelings.

Many of us learned early in life that feelings are inconvenient. They are uncomfortable. They make other people uncomfortable. They feel vulnerable, messy, and sometimes even dangerous.

So we push them down.

We distract.
We stay busy.
We numb.
We minimize.
We tell ourselves we’re fine.

Unfortunately, feelings do not disappear simply because we ignore them. They go underground.

What is not expressed often gets stored in the body.

The anxiety that is never acknowledged becomes chronic tension.
The grief that is never mourned becomes depression.
The fear that is never processed becomes hypervigilance.
The anger that is never spoken becomes bitterness or shame.
Unmanaged and unprocessed emotions become physical health concerns.

As therapists often say: You have to feel it to heal it.

Yet many Christians have been taught the exact opposite.

Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the message that if we have enough faith, we should not feel anxious. If we trust God, we should not feel sad. If we are spiritually mature, we should not struggle with fear, grief, disappointment, or overwhelm.

The problem is that this idea is not found in Scripture. It is a man made concept created by individuals who have used their religion as a means of deflecting true emotions and pushing them down. This is unhealthy and does great harm to the individual. In fact, the people who practice this type of coping, often push this coping mechanism onto those they love. This process causes great pain for individuals and creates a sense and lack of emotional safety in relationships.

In fact, nearly every page of the Bible is filled with people experiencing very real emotions.

David cried out in despair:

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” (Psalm 42:5)

Elijah became so overwhelmed after his victory on Mount Carmel that he sat down under a tree and asked God to let him die (1 Kings 19:4).

Jeremiah is often referred to as the “weeping prophet.”

Job grieved deeply.

The Psalms are filled with fear, anger, confusion, sorrow, loneliness, joy, hope, and celebration.

God did not rebuke His people for having feelings.

He met them in their feelings.

Even Jesus experienced deep emotions.

Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35).

He felt compassion for the crowds (Matthew 9:36).

He experienced righteous anger in the temple (Matthew 21:12-13).

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Scripture says:

“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Matthew 26:38)

Luke tells us that His distress was so intense that His sweat became like drops of blood falling to the ground (Luke 22:44).

Jesus did not deny His feelings.

He expressed them.

He shared them.

He invited others into them.

He brought them to His Father.

Notice that Jesus did not sin by having emotions. He modeled what healthy emotional processing looks like.

He felt them.

He acknowledged them.

He surrendered them.

The goal of healing is not to stop having feelings.

The goal is to learn how to experience them safely.

Feelings are not weaknesses.

Feelings are information.

They tell us when something matters.
They tell us when something hurts.
They tell us when something needs attention.
They tell us when our hearts are carrying burdens we were never meant to carry alone.

When we suppress emotions, they often become louder.

When we listen to them with curiosity and compassion, they often begin to soften.

This is true spiritually and psychologically.

Healing requires honesty.

God is not asking you to pretend.

He is inviting you to come as you are.

With the anxiety.
With the sadness.
With the grief.
With the fear.
With the anger.
With the overwhelm.

All of it.

Because what is brought into the light can be healed.

What is hidden tends to stay wounded.

You have to feel it, to heal it.

—- Reflection ——

What feelings have I been avoiding lately?

What emotion feels unsafe for me to experience?

Where did I learn that certain feelings were unacceptable?

If Jesus could experience grief, sorrow, distress, and compassion without sin, what would it look like for me to give myself permission to feel?

Today, can I spend five quiet minutes simply noticing what I am feeling without judging it?

Can I bring that feeling honestly before God?

—- A Final Thought ——

A significant part of counseling involves learning to recognize the good within yourself, acknowledging your growth, and treating yourself with kindness rather than criticism.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy teaches us that changing the way we think can change the way we feel.

Internal Family Systems reminds us that even our protective parts developed for a reason. Rather than attacking them, we can approach them with gratitude and gentle curiosity, thanking them for trying to keep us safe.

Healing rarely happens through harsh judgment.

Healing happens when truth and compassion meet.

The God who created your emotions is not intimidated by them.

Bring them to Him.

Feel them.

Process them.

And allow Him to heal what has been hurting all along.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LCMHC

Recently, I came across one of those “spiritual archetype” assessments online, and honestly, I expected to roll my eyes at it.

But one part stopped me in my tracks.

It described people who are deeply reflective. People who process life deeply instead of superficially. People who feel emotions intensely, analyze situations from every angle, search for meaning, long for truth, and naturally carry the emotional weight of others.

And I thought…“Well… that explains a lot.”

As a counselor, writer, survivor, and deeply feeling human being, I recognized myself in so much of it.

The strengths were desirable and respectable characteristics. Character traits God has give to me and I can relate with as a Christian counselor. Deep empathy• Discernment• Emotional awareness• Compassion• Ability to sit with hurting people• Desire for healing and truth• Looking beneath the surface instead of staying shallow

But then came the harder parts.

People who process deeply often hurt deeply too.

We can replay conversations in our heads for hours. Analyze situations trying to “figure them out.” Carry emotional burdens long after everyone else has moved on. Feel overstimulated by conflict, tension, noise, or emotional chaos. Struggle to turn our brains off. Sometimes confuse overthinking with responsibility. Sometimes confuse hypervigilance with wisdom.

Psychology calls some of this deep processing, introspection, emotional sensitivity, and sometimes rumination.

Rumination is when the mind gets stuck in loops trying to solve, prevent, understand, or emotionally process something. The brain thinks it is helping protect us, but instead it often increases anxiety, emotional exhaustion, and overwhelm.

And honestly? I think many deeply caring people live there more than others realize.

Especially trauma survivors, counselors, people who have endured betrayal, grief, spiritual abuse, loss, or chronic stress.

One thing I’m learning is this:

Discernment is healthy. Constant mental overthinking is exhausting.

Reflection is healthy. Rumination is draining.

Wisdom is beautiful. But carrying the weight of understanding and feeling responsible for everything all the time is too heavy for any human being.

Scripture talks often about wisdom, but it also talks about peace.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God…” — James 1:5

“Do not be anxious about anything… and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:6–7

I do not believe our identity should come from personality tests or archetypes. Our identity is found in Christ.

But sometimes self-awareness helps us recognize both the beauty and the burden of how we’re wired.

Maybe some of the very traits God uses to help us love deeply, discern wisely, counsel others, protect people, create beauty, and seek truth… are also the exact areas where we must intentionally learn rest, surrender, grounding, boundaries, and trust.

Not every thought needs to be solved. Not every burden was ours to carry. Not every situation can be fully understood.

And maybe healing sometimes looks like finally allowing your mind to rest. Amen!

Psalm 18:16-

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my photos, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.”

This passage has become a healing word for my overwhelmed spirit, when I feel overwhelmed with the demands, fears, and my own thinking; I come back to this verse. It reminds me that the Lord rescues me from enemies, strongholds, even my own wandering thoughts. That he is my anchor and he is always my number one support. And I especially love the words “He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.”

This part was especially calming to my spirit because the idea of a spacious place allows my spirit to feel calmed, renewed, relaxed, and as if I’m in just an open valley in the mountains where I can breathe deeper.

🌊 Reflection:Do you tend to process life deeply emotionally, spiritually, or mentally?

Has your deep thinking been more of a gift lately… or an exhaustion?

What helps you find peace when your mind will not slow down?

I pray this message spoke to you in the same way it resonated with my spirit.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

Traumatic Brain Injuries; In An Iceberg

I came across this picture of an iceberg a few weeks ago, explaining what it’s like to have a traumatic brain injury. Throughout, my concussion, recovery, and mild TBI, I can completely relate.

What people see on the surface is someone who “looks fine,” someone who may be smiling, showing up, going back to work or school, trying to function normally again.

But underneath the surface are often things people cannot see:memory problems, dizziness, headaches, fatigue, anxiety, depression, irritability, physical pain, difficulty concentrating, mood changes, sensitivity to light and noise, becoming overwhelmed easily, and the grief and adjustment that comes with realizing life may not feel the same as it once did.

Depending on the severity of the injury, even simple daily tasks and interactions can become exhausting. Many people desperately want to handle situations the way they used to, but their brain and body are still healing.

One of the hardest parts is that because people “look okay,” others may unintentionally minimize what they are experiencing. Often people compare it to something they personally endured because they are trying to relate or make things better. But sometimes this can leave the person feeling even more alone, misunderstood, and frustrated.

Thankfully, I am dealing with more of a mild traumatic brain injury and am hopeful for continued healing. But this experience has given me an even deeper understanding of how tremendously brain injuries can impact a person’s life.

Before my concussion, I had already become passionate about understanding and helping people who endure brain injuries because they are far more common than many realize. I remember being at a conference with friends from Hope After Head Injury, and during one session I felt God deeply impress upon my heart that caring for someone with a brain injury is truly being Christ to someone who is suffering.

Honestly, that is how we should approach all people: with …compassion,patience,gentleness,understanding,and love.

Being careful and considerate of experiences we cannot fully see.

Today’s post is simply a reminder to encourage someone. Reach out to the person recovering from a brain injury, stroke, heart attack, grief, chronic pain, emotional distress, or financial hardship. You never fully know what someone is carrying beneath the surface.

Let’s choose to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”— Galatians 6:2

Reflection:Have you ever experienced a concussion or traumatic brain injury? If so, how did it impact you and your daily functioning?

Do you know someone who has experienced a concussion or another type of brain injury? How did it affect their life emotionally, physically, mentally, or spiritually?

Are you currently struggling with another area of your life that has been distressing, discouraging, or overwhelming?

Sometimes the deepest battles people face are the ones others cannot see. May we continue to extend grace, compassion, patience, and support to one another as we walk through difficult seasons together.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

I snapped this picture at the beach tonight because it immediately struck me as such a powerful depiction of human nature.

The smaller boat is actually incredible. Most people could never afford something like that. To many, it would represent success, luxury, and blessing. Yet out in the water sits an even larger yacht, making the beautiful boat suddenly seem “small.”

And isn’t that exactly what we do in life?

We compare our bodies to someone thinner. Our face to someone prettier. Our clothes to someone wealthier. Our home to the people across town. Our safe and reliable family vehicle to someone else’s luxury car. Our lives to the highlight reels we scroll past every day.

Psychology calls this the comparison trap.

The comparison trap is the tendency to measure our worth, success, beauty, or happiness against what others have. Instead of appreciating the gifts, blessings, and growth in our own lives, we become fixated on what we lack in comparison to someone else.

The problem is this trap creates chronic dissatisfaction. It disconnects us from gratitude and peace. It can increase anxiety, insecurity, envy, shame, low self-worth, and even depression. Comparison quietly whispers: “You are behind.” “You are not enough.” “You should have more.” “You should be better.”

And the enemy loves this tactic because comparison steals joy and creates distress, discontentment, and despair. It blinds us to the goodness of God already present in our lives.

“Keeping up with the Joneses” has existed for generations, but social media has amplified it to exhausting levels. We are constantly exposed to curated versions of other people’s lives while becoming blind to the beauty within our own.

The truth is someone else will almost always have a bigger boat.

But peace was never found in having the biggest boat.

Peace is found in contentment. In gratitude. In recognizing the gifts God has already given us. In understanding that worth is not measured by status, appearance, possessions, popularity, or performance.

The Apostle Paul understood this deeply:

“For I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.”Philippians 4:11 NIV

Contentment does not mean we never grow, dream, or improve. It means our peace is no longer dependent upon outperforming everyone around us.

Sometimes the most spiritually healthy thing we can do is stop staring at everyone else’s boat and thank God for the one we already have.

Reflection:

*Where has comparison stolen your joy lately?
*What blessings in your life have you become blind to because you are focused on someone else’s?
*What would change if gratitude became louder than comparison?

Gratitude shifts our eyes from scarcity to abundance. And often, the life we are overlooking is the very life someone else is praying for.

Enjoy and be content with the blessings God provides!

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

—-Healing Occurs in Safe Connection—-

One of the deepest truths I have learned, both personally and professionally, is this:

“It is in safe connection that we are healed from unsafe connections of the past.”

Trauma is not only about what happened to us. It is also about what happened inside of us when we were left alone in the pain. When people dismissed our experiences, minimized our wounds, denied our reality, or failed to protect us, something inside learned:

“I am not safe.”
“I am too much.”
“My needs do not matter.”
“I cannot trust.”

This is why healing becomes nearly impossible in environments where people continue to invalidate, shame, manipulate, ignore, or spiritually bypass our pain. Human beings were created for connection. Our nervous systems, our hearts, and our souls all respond to safety, consistency, compassion, and truth.

Psychology teaches us that trauma wounds often occurred through unsafe people in close proximity, in families, churches, schools; places that are supposed to be safe. This means healing must happen through safe relationships. We heal when we are seen. Believed. Supported. Encouraged. Protected. Given proper resources. Given space to grieve. Given room to process without fear of punishment or rejection.

Safe people help calm what unsafe people activated.

And while healthy human connection matters deeply, Jesus remains the ultimate healer and counselor. He is the One who sees fully without shaming. The One who binds up wounds gently. The One who does not rush the healing process. The One who sits with us in suffering and speaks truth where lies once took root.

“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
John 8:36 NIV

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3 NIV

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2 NIV

Sometimes healing looks like therapy.
Sometimes it looks like boundaries.
Sometimes it looks like grieving.
Sometimes it looks like learning your worth after years of believing lies.
Sometimes it looks like finally sitting with safe people who reflect the heart of Christ instead of the harm of others.

God designed us for healing in relationship, not continued harm disguised as holiness.

Reflection:
*Who in your life helps your nervous system feel calmer, safer, and more grounded?
*What would it look like to move toward safe connection and away from environments that keep reopening wounds?

Healing is rarely instant. But safe connection, truth, compassion, and the presence of God can slowly teach the heart what safety feels like again.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

Sometimes, when my job feels boring, overwhelming, inconsistent, or too long…
I have learned to pause and remember.

I go back to the beginning.
That first year—when I was so excited.
When I was so excited to help people and was eager to learn all things “counseling” and “mental health”.
When the joy, purpose, and deep sense of calling was at an all time high.

I remember the absolute honor I felt—
that God would call me into this helping field.
That He would trust me to sit with people in their pain,
to walk with them in healing,
to be a safe place in their story.

And if I’m honest…
I also remember how inadequate I felt.

I didn’t feel fully equipped.
I didn’t have it all figured out.
I had to rely on God fully—moment by moment.

And maybe that’s part of what made it so powerful.
The dependence.
The humility.
The awareness that it was never just me.

Somewhere along the way, it’s easy to lose touch with the joy of the calling.
The weight of responsibility, the routine, the fatigue… it all adds up.

But when I intentionally tap back into those early days— And I purposefully “remember” those early feelings and memories…
the passion, the gratitude, the “I can’t believe I get to do this” feeling,
something shifts back into place.

The joy comes back.
The fervency returns.
The purpose feels alive again.

“Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.”
— Romans 12:11 (NIV)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)

And sometimes, it’s not about a full life change in the moment…
Sometimes it’s about remembering.

“Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other.”
— Isaiah 46:9 (NIV)

If we “used” to love what we now do for a living; it’s still there… We just need to tap into those memories, feelings, and into the God-given calling.

The calling matters.

If you’re in a season where it feels heavy or dull…
maybe, for now, gently go back.

Reconnect with the why.
Reconnect with the calling.
Reconnect with the version of you who was full of hope and expectation.

And maybe even reconnect with that place of dependence,
where you leaned on God fully.

Let that memory carry you until God reveals the next step.

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Reflection 🤍

• When you first started, what did you love most about your work?
• Where did you sense God’s calling and purpose in that season?
• Where did you feel inadequate—and how did God meet you there?
• What has shifted—and what still remains true?
• What is one small way you can reconnect with that original joy this week?

Take a moment today to remember.
Sometimes, remembrance is the beginning of renewal.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon

Psalm 1:1–3 (NIV)
“Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers.”

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The past several weeks have been difficult.

I am realizing the impact trauma from the last several years has truly had on my body, mind, and spirit—even down to a molecular level. The assault that occurred in Australia 7 months ago, being hit in the head, spiritual trauma, significant losses of loved ones, big move, and struggling to find community through a big move – it has all impacted me significantly.

As I am trying to slow down and relax, I am noticing my body continues to be in this fight,flight, or freeze mode. My ability to tolerate everyday situations is more limited.

Due to the stress and overwhelm in my body, I knew I needed some time in nature.

Nature has a way of healing me in a way that nothing else can.

I found an Airbnb next to a stream in the middle of Tennessee, and I’m sitting here overlooking a small waterfall. This morning, I opened my Bible to Psalm 1, which is interesting because God has been putting Psalms on my heart the past few days.

And as I read it, one part stood out to me:

“That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither…”

And I knew in that moment… God was sending me a message. I sat here reflecting and praying.

I was reminded of another time this scenario played out in my life.

Several years ago, I was in Arizona, sitting in Scottsdale surrounded by large rocks and boulders. This area is known for its large beautiful boulders surrounded by the amazing desert. I opened my Bible and read, “The Lord is my rock and my fortress.” I knew God was wanting me to fully grasp this truth. A truth that would sustain me for several difficult years.

What I didn’t know at the time was that we were about to walk through some of the most difficult and traumatic seasons in our family. Things that would shake our faith. Spiritual abuse that would impact each of us individually and as a family. Seasons that would make it hard to go to church, to trust Christians, and even at times to trust God. Our faith is our core and when that is shaken, it is devastating and extremely painful.

God knew I needed that message then.

And today… He is sending me another important and profound truth.

As I sat here looking at the trees next to the stream—secure, steady, rooted—I began to understand.

God is telling me that “I am going to be sustained.”

I don’t have to strive or fight through life.

I can rest next to Him… as if He is the stream.

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Things I am learning from this moment:
1. My life has to stay rooted in God.

I can’t allow my life to be influenced by the world, by media, by unkind people, by trials, or even by the trauma I’ve experienced. That cannot be my focus. My focus has to be on God.
2. I don’t have to strive to survive.

I am sustained because God is my anchor and my hope. We will go through hard times, but one truth I can always hold onto is the hope of Jesus. He is bigger than any circumstance.3. God is reminding me that I am no longer in survival mode.

He is teaching me how to be rooted in Him and reminding me of the security that I find only when I stay connected to Him. My strength comes from God alone.

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Proverbs 3:5–6 (NIV)
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

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Reflection 🤍

Where are you rooted right now?

What is influencing your thoughts, your heart, and your life?

Are you striving to survive… or are you allowing God to sustain you?

Sometimes we don’t need to do more.

We just need to stay planted and rooted in God. We will be blessed, held, and we will prosper.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC

Before we go deeper, let’s take a moment to remember where we started in Part 1.

Anxiety begins with our thoughts.
Those thoughts create feelings.
Those feelings begin to impact our body and our behavior.

*We think what we think, which causes us to do what we do. Which causes us to choose what we choose.

Therefore, we must recognize and change the narrative we communicate to our self in order to change.

Sadly, when we don’t recognize what’s happening in our thought process, we can quickly get pulled into an anxiety spiral without even realizing it.

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One of the primary ways the enemy uses to create chaos and overwhelm in our minds is to speak partial truths into demeaning situations.

Partial Truths is a primary strategy of the enemy.

Here are common truths examples of partial truths..:

“You’re not good enough.”
“You’re a failure.”
“No one wants you.”
“You’re not smart enough.”
“You’re an idiot.”

These thoughts feel real because they carry a small piece of truth within them.

The truth is, we all fail sometimes. We all make mistakes.

But the lie is when that moment becomes your identity.

“I made a mistake” turns into “I am a failure.”

That’s the shift.

The enemy takes a moment and tries to define who you are by it.

Scripture reminds us in John 8:44 that he is the father of lies, and in Revelation 12:10 he is called the accuser. So it makes sense that his voice sounds like accusation, shame, and condemnation.

I remember a time I was bringing my daughter lunch to school from Chick-fil-A for her birthday, and I was running late.

Almost instantly, the thought came:
“You’re a bad mom.”

And for a moment, I felt it.

But then I caught it.

I reminded myself, “I’m doing this because I love her. I’m a good mom. She’s going to be okay if I’m a few minutes late.”

That is what it looks like to take a thought captive.

As it says in 2 Corinthians 10:5, we are called to take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ.

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Why This Matters for Anxiety

If we don’t catch these thoughts, we stay in a constant state of anxiety.

And that affects everything.
Our ability to think clearly.
Our ability to function.
Our ability to move forward.

When anxiety rises and the spiral continues, your brain shifts into fight-or-flight mode. This is overwhelming and painful. This is when we notice negative physical sensations in our body; panic, tightness, heaviness in our chest, stress headaches, muscle tightness, etc.

The way out of the spiral is to recognize what we’re feeling in our bodies, stop feeding the negative thought cycle, speak truth over the thought, pray, and spend time memorizing scripture, utilizing mindfulness and grounding techniques.

This process moves the anxiety in your body, by allowing the logical mind to take back the flight or flight center and this calms the mind and body down. The reality: it is biologically impossible to operate in both survival mode and logical thinking at the same time. To stop anxiety it is essential to move from the anxiety center of the brain to the logical thinking mind.

It is essential to realize this concept because many people keep pushing through thinking the overwhelm of anxiety will lead to success but the opposite is true: Anxiety in the mind halts thinking and creates an impasse to clearer logical thinking that leads to success in life.

That is why pushing through and white-knuckling through life does not work. Even though, many ill informed individuals still teach and even enforce this concept into their lives and those around them.

Anxiety is exhausting.
It drains your body, your mind, and your spirit.
And it often makes things worse.

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Calming the Body by Speaking Truth

In order to calm your mind, body, and soul your mind is the control center of the brain. The mind/ our thoughts ultimately control our brain’s response to stressful thoughts and situations.

At the most basic level; Your brain’s job is to keep you alive.
It is your mind’s job and the thought patterns that feed God’s truth to our spirit.

When we first notice our body becomes activated by anxiety, we have to speak back positive truths to it.

“I’m okay.”
“I’m not in danger.”
“This is hard, but I can handle it.”

2 Timothy 1:7 reminds us that God has given us power, love, and a sound mind, not a spirit of fear.

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I had a moment like this recently.

I was dealing with a stressful situation with a car dealership, and my response was much more heightened than it needed to be.

So I sat in my car and said to myself, “Crystal, you’re going to be okay. You’re not in danger. This is just a difficult situation.” While taking slow deep breaths.

And slowly, my body began to calm.

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Grounding the Nervous System

Here are a few grounding exercises that help your brain and body regroup and return to its calm state. When your body feels overwhelmed, you have to help it settle.

Some simple ways to do that include:
• Gentle tapping on your chest or wherever you feel tension… while quoting scripture, praying, and speaking positive truths.
• Slow, deep methodical breathing
• Counting backward from 100, taking deep breaths every 10.
• The 5-4-3-2-1 grounding method:
• 5 things you see
• 4 things you feel
• 3 things you hear
• 2 things you smell
• 1 thing you taste

Each of these exercises help ground your anxiety and is a way of telling your body, “You are safe.”

Philippians 4:6–7 reminds us to bring our anxiety to God, and His peace will guard our hearts and minds.

—- Bringing It All Together

When you find yourself in an anxiety spiral:

Recognize the thought.
Identify the feeling.
Notice the partial truth.
Speak truth back in.
Calm your body.
Remind yourself that you are safe.

Remember: Your mind and body is not working against you.

It is trying to protect you.

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Reflection

Take a moment and sit with this.

What thoughts have been fueling your anxiety lately?

Are they truth, or are they partial truth?

What would it look like to begin speaking truth instead?

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Scripture reminds us:

Romans 12:2 calls us to be transformed by the renewing of our minds.
Isaiah 26:3 promises perfect peace to those whose minds are stayed on Him.
Philippians 4:8 encourages us to think about whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable.

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So today, gently ask yourself:

What thoughts do I need to take captive?
What truth do I need to speak over myself?
And how can I remind my body that I am safe?

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You are not your thoughts.
You are not your fear.

You are capable of learning how to manage your thoughts so you can better care for your mind, your body, and your soul.

Blessings, Crystal Ridlon, LPC