Welcome back to my new series, Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby!

If you missed the first piece—about the fetish I didn’t ask for—you can read it here

I posted that article four days ago.

And I need to tell you what happened next.

I figured it would resonate with some people. I had a hunch I probably wasn’t the only person in the Church who had either struggled in the past or was currently struggling with an unwanted fetish, sexual urge, behavior, or secret.

But what happened shocked me.

Within four days, I had more than 35 new people in my inbox.

That single article received more views and brought in more paid subscriptions than anything I had written before it.

Within about 24 hours, I had climbed to #38 on Substack’s Rising in Faith & Spirituality list.

But those numbers aren’t actually what got my attention.

It was what was happening privately.

Women were confessing things they had never told another human being.

They shared stories of sexual abuse they had carried with shame.

They asked questions about sex and sexuality that they had no idea who else to ask.

They told me about unwanted fetishes, desires, attractions, and sexual preferences they had carried silently for years.

Some simply thanked me for saying something out loud that they had never been able to say themselves.

All from one article.

One.

And something became incredibly obvious to me:

There is a massive gap in the Body of Christ.

The books exist. But something is still missing.

So I started researching.

There are actually a lot of Christian books about sex.

There are books about married sex. Books about purity. Books explaining anatomy and pleasure. There’s even a book called The Good Girl’s Guide to Great Sex that talks openly about things like the clitoris and the fact that God designed women to experience sexual pleasure.

And I think resources like that can be incredibly valuable.

But here’s what I realized:

That wasn’t the book I needed.

I remember being a girl in my late teens and early twenties, carrying a sexual secret I couldn’t make sense of, and seeing books like these.

And instead of thinking,

Oh good. Someone understands me.

I remember thinking,

Oh my gosh.

I am so messed up.

Because I wasn’t wondering how to have better married sex. (although I never thought I could actually have good married sex with how I was wired… spoiler alert… I do)

I wasn’t wondering whether God wanted women to orgasm.

I was wondering:

What is wrong with me?

Why do I want something I don’t want to want?

What do I do with something sexual that I am deeply ashamed of?

Can I tell anyone?

Does God still want me?

And apparently, I wasn’t the only one asking those questions.

Because here’s another thing I noticed about my article:

There were relatively few public likes, comments, and shares compared with the number of people who actually read it.

Yet privately?

My inbox was overflowing.

And I think I know why.

We’re still hiding.

Why are you hiding?

Apparently, that first article was only the beginning of a journey God is taking me on.

Which brings me to Part Two:

Why are you hiding?

Interestingly, I wrote an article with that exact title in my old publication, Deeply Rooted. (You can read it with a paid subscriptions by clicking below)

In it, I went back to Genesis 3, and something stood out to me that I had never really noticed before.

Adam and Eve had been naked the entire time.

Nakedness wasn’t the problem.

Genesis says that after they ate from the tree, their eyes were opened. Suddenly, they became aware of their vulnerability and felt shame.

So they covered themselves.

That detail is super important.

Because shame came before hiding.

First came shame.

Then came covering.

Then came hiding.

And isn’t that exactly what we still do?

We mess up.

We become overwhelmed with shame.

And then we start covering.

We hide behind performance.

Behind ministry.

Behind pretending we’re okay.

Behind theology.

Behind isolation.

Behind self-protection.

Behind striving.

Behind I’m fine.

Behind numbing.

Behind addictions.

Behind keeping everyone at arm’s length.

And eventually, we begin hiding from the very Person we need most.

“When the cool evening breezes were blowing, the man and his wife heard the LORD God walking about in the garden. So they hid from the LORD God among the trees.”

—Genesis 3:8

And then God asks a question:

“Where are you?”

Adam answers:

“I heard you walking in the garden, so I hid. I was afraid…”

That is what shame does.

It makes us hide from the very Person we need most.

But I want you to notice something else.

Who was hiding?

Adam and Eve.

Who came looking for them?

God did.

Go read it for yourself.

They sinned.

They covered themselves.

They hid.

And God came walking into the garden looking for them.

Yet somehow, many of us have absorbed a completely different picture of God.

We imagine Him standing at a distance, arms crossed, waiting for us to get ourselves together before we dare approach Him.

That, my friend, is a lie crafted by the enemy.

And sexual sin seems to carry its own special category of shame.

If you walked into many churches and said:

“I’m struggling with an unwanted sexual fetish, and I genuinely don’t know what to do with it,”

I imagine there would be a lot of:

“Ummm…”

“Uhhh…”

“Well…”

And I understand why.

If you’ve never experienced something like that, it can be incredibly difficult to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

And no, I am absolutely not suggesting we start announcing our entire sexual histories to everyone we meet.

Please don’t do that if you want to keep your friends. LOL.

But I am asking:

Why are we hiding?

How is it possible that pornography use is widespread among practicing Christians, while so many Christians still feel like they can’t tell anyone they’re struggling with it?

How is it possible that more than 35 women could message one random woman on Substack within four days—some telling me sexual secrets they had never told another human being—while the Church (not all churches— but most in general) still seems so uncomfortable talking about what people are actually carrying?

(Probably because we stand behind pulpits yelling things like “HOMOSEXUALS GO TO HELL!” while the Pastor himself is addicted to pornography. See the irony?)

How many people are sitting in pews every Sunday thinking:

If anyone knew this about me, they would never look at me the same way again?

How many people love Jesus while simultaneously carrying something sexual they desperately wish wasn’t there?

How many are trying to pray it away?

White-knuckle it away?

Repent harder?

Read another book?

Promise God they’ll never do it again?

And every time they fail, they retreat a little further into the trees?

Come out of hiding.

So here’s my challenge.

Come out of hiding.

After this article goes live, I’m going to start a thread in my paid-subscriber chat called Come Out of Hiding. It is for paid subscribers only.

And if this is you, you don’t have to tell us what your secret is.

In fact, please don’t.

All you have to write is:

Me too.

That’s it.

Me too.

It means:

There is something sexual I have carried in secret.

There is something I have been ashamed to tell anyone.

There is something in this area of my life that has made me believe I am uniquely messed up.

And when you see another me too underneath yours, maybe you’ll finally realize:

You aren’t the only one.

I want to be extremely clear here.

I am not trying to normalize sin.

I am not saying every sexual desire should be embraced.

I am not saying that because an urge exists, acting on it is therefore good.

And I am not interested in redefining what Scripture calls sin in order to make people feel better.

I’m saying you don’t have to hide in order to agree with God that something is wrong.

Those are not the same thing.

Because hiding doesn’t heal us.

Shame doesn’t transform us.

Pretending doesn’t make us holy.

Jesus does.

God is the One who heals wounds.

God is the One who exposes lies.

God is the One who transforms desires.

God is the One who leads us into freedom.

Isaiah 49:9 says:

“Say to the captives, ‘Come out,’ and to those in darkness, ‘Be free!’”

Come out.

Not necessarily publicly.

Not recklessly.

Not by telling your deepest secrets to people who haven’t earned the right to hold them.

But come out from behind the fig leaves.

Come out of the belief that you are the only Christian carrying something like this.

Come out of the belief that God is disgusted with you.

Come out of the belief that you need to make yourself clean enough to approach Him.

Because here’s the thing I can’t stop thinking about:

God wasn’t hiding from Adam and Eve.

They were hiding from Him.

And maybe some of us have spent years begging God to come near while He has been walking through the garden asking the same question He asked all the way back in Genesis:

Where are you?

You are the one hiding.

God isn’t hiding from you.

And He isn’t waiting for you to fix yourself before He comes looking for you.

He already is.

A Note About Paid Subscriptions

If this series is resonating with you and you want to support the work I’m doing here, you can become a paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

Paid subscriptions allow me to continue spending time researching, writing, and creating space for conversations like these—especially the ones the Church hasn’t always known how to have.

Paid subscribers also receive access to my private subscriber chat, including the Come Out of Hiding thread mentioned above, as well as the full archive of my writing and access to schedule a 30-minute ministry consultation with me.

And I want to say this clearly:

I never want money to be the reason someone can’t access something they genuinely need. But, that being said, please be honest. This is my full time job.

If there is a paid article in this series that you believe would help you but you cannot afford a subscription, send me a simple message saying, “I’d like to read this article but can’t afford a subscription.” You do not need to explain your financial situation or tell me why you need it.

I’ll gift you access.

If you are able to become a paid subscriber, you’re not just unlocking additional content. You’re helping make it possible for me to keep writing about the things people are afraid to say out loud.

And apparently, we have a lot to talk about.

But if anyone is going to talk about the things Christians won’t talk about, it’s going to be me!

I am a perpetual oversharer, but to be honest, I believe my oversharing has saved many lives in the past. And I KNOW I wish I had something like this to read when I was struggling.

(Shoutout to and for inspiring me to write this series. And also for talking me through some of this! Check out their work on sex in marriage (Ginger) and fetishes (Kati). It’s wonderful!)

I did not want to write about this.

I started doing research to see if there were already books or resources out there that I could reference in an article about unwanted sexual behaviors or thoughts as a Christian.

What I found shocked me, honestly.

Because I KNOW how many Christians have unwanted sexual thoughts or feelings. Whether it is homosexuality, BDSM, a fetish, or something else.

And yet, I found very few Christian resources that directly discuss this.

One of the closest books I found is called Unwanted: How Sexual Brokenness Reveals Our Way to Healing by Jay Stringer.

So, here I am, being obedient to the Holy Spirit and talking about something that needs to be talked about.

I am honestly not sure exactly what this series is going to entail yet.

I have some things I know I want to talk about, but I also want to leave room for the Holy Spirit to lead it—and for YOU to tell me what actually needs to be talked about.

So, for the duration of this series, I have opened my DMs back up (don’t make me regret this… jerks for Jesus can stay out of my DMs please and thank you!) for two reasons:

1. Tell me what you wish Christians would talk about regarding sex.

Is there something you have Googled 47 different ways and still couldn’t find a Christian talking about honestly? Is there a question about sex, marriage, desire, fetishes, pornography, masturbation, shame, sexual addiction, trauma, deliverance, or literally anything else that you wish someone would address?

Tell me.

You don’t have to tell me that you struggle with it. You can literally just say, “Hey, I think you should write about ______.”

2. If you just need to tell an actual human being, you can tell me. (Females only please 😊 Men— scroll down a little to see a male I recommend.)

Maybe you have carried something for years and have never said it out loud.

Maybe you’re not ready to tell your spouse, pastor, counselor, or friend yet.

Maybe you just need to know that another Christian can hear your secret and not recoil from you.

You are welcome to tell me.

I am not a therapist, and I can’t provide counseling through DMs. But I can be a safe human on the other side of the screen who says:

“I hear you. I’m not horrified. And Jesus still loves you.”

You do not have to give me graphic details. In fact, please don’t. 😂

But if shame has convinced you that you are the only Christian on planet Earth carrying whatever you’re carrying, you don’t have to keep carrying it completely alone.

And who knows?

Maybe the things you’re brave enough to ask are exactly the things someone else has been too afraid to ask too.

Let’s talk about sex, baby. 😂

If you are a male, I recommend contacting .

He’s a faith-based certified life coach who has helped men overcome unwanted sexual desires, understanding that unwanted sexual desires typically are a result from a traumatic experience and/or a subtle lie that masquerades as truth. If that feels like you, he can be a great resource.
Email: sean@seankshahkarami.com or message him on Substack!

One more thing:

Some posts in this series will be public, and some will be for paid subscribers.

I have decided to put my personal story about living with an unwanted fetish behind the paywall. Part of that is simply because it is an incredibly vulnerable story, and I want to be somewhat intentional about who has access to it.

But I NEVER want money to be the reason someone who genuinely needs that story can’t read it.

So if you want to read that post because this is something you personally struggle with, but you cannot afford a paid subscription, please send me this exact message:

“I would like access to your fetish post but cannot afford a subscription. Here is the email associated with my substack account: (put email here)”

Please be honest. I have been in a place where I couldn’t afford $7 so I get it, but that’s between you and God!

That’s it.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

You don’t have to tell me what the fetish is.

You don’t have to prove that you can’t afford it.

You don’t have to tell me your story.

I will gift you a subscription so you can read it. It may take me a day or so since I have to type the email into my computer, but I will do it no questions asked!

There is no reason financial circumstances should keep someone alone in shame when there is something here that might help them realize they aren’t alone.

The paywall is there to protect something vulnerable.

It is not there to keep help away from someone who needs it.

That being said, if you CAN afford a $7 subscription to read this article, you just need to upgrade your subscription and then come back to this article.

Subscribe now

My Story: A Fetish I Did Not Ask For and the Beautiful Marriage That Followed After Freedom

Read more

All true.
All important.
All needing to be followed.

Sola Scriptura.

Scripture alone.

But then you mention a verse they either don’t have an answer for or interpret differently, and suddenly you hear, “Well, you’re interpreting that wrong.”

And I can’t help but wonder sometimes:

Do we actually believe all of Scripture? Or just the parts that support the theological framework we’ve already decided is correct?

Because there are some Scriptures we seem to take very seriously.

And then there are others that we seem to breeze right past.

For example, what about the very beginning of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians?

“I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another in what you say and that there be no divisions among you…”
— 1 Corinthians 1:10

Then he tells them what he’s talking about:

“One of you says, ‘I follow Paul’; another, ‘I follow Apollos’; another, ‘I follow Cephas’…”
— 1 Corinthians 1:12

And Paul’s response?

“Is Christ divided?”

I can’t read that without thinking about the Church today.

“Well, I follow Calvin.”

“Well, I follow Darby.”

“Well, I follow this charismatic leader.”

“Well, I’m Reformed.”

“Well, I’m Baptist.”

“Well, I’m Pentecostal.”

Obviously most people aren’t literally saying, “I follow Calvin instead of Jesus.”

But sometimes I wonder how different it really is when we become so attached to a theological camp, denomination, teacher, or framework that everyone outside of it becomes someone we need to correct.

And then we fight.

And fight.

And fight some more.

All while holding our Bibles.

The irony is that the Bible we’re fighting about repeatedly tells us not to be quarrelsome.

Paul tells Timothy:

“Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone…”
— 2 Timothy 2:23–24

He tells Titus:

“Avoid foolish controversies and genealogies and arguments and quarrels about the law, because these are unprofitable and useless.”
— Titus 3:9

Romans says:

“Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters.”
— Romans 14:1

And then, just a few verses later:

“Who are you to judge someone else’s servant?”
— Romans 14:4

And:

“Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.”
— Romans 14:19

Paul tells the Ephesians to be humble, gentle, patient, and to bear with one another in love, making

“every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” (Ephesians 4:2–3)

James tells us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry because

“human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” (James 1:19–20)

He says wisdom from heaven is:

“peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit…”
— James 3:17

Peter says that even when we’re giving a defense for what we believe, we’re supposed to do it “with gentleness and respect.” (1 Peter 3:15)

Do you see what I’m getting at?

We will fight to the death over our interpretation of one verse while completely ignoring the verses telling us how Christians are supposed to behave while disagreeing about it.

And I am tired.

Truly.

I get burned out SO quickly by the Christian keyboard warriors on the internet.

And, in my personal experience, some of the meanest, most prideful, arrogant, flat-out rude people I’ve encountered online are also people who consider themselves serious theologians.

That’s not an indictment of theology.

Theology matters.

Truth matters.

Doctrine matters.

I believe there is truth and there is error. I believe Scripture is authoritative. I believe there are things God calls sin. I believe there are things Christians absolutely should stand for.

So please don’t put words in my mouth and tell me I’m saying, “Just love everybody and forget about truth.”

I’m not.

Truth is love.

But being correct about doctrine does not give us permission to disobey Jesus in the way we treat people.

And somewhere along the way, I think a lot of us forgot that.

We pick out the things in the Bible that we’ve decided matter the most, and then point fingers and argue until we’re blue in the face.

“Homosexuals go to hell!”

“Charismatics are demonic!”

“Cessationists are wrong!”

“Calvinists are wrong!”

“Women can’t do that!”

“You’re deceived!”

“You’re a heretic!”

“You don’t understand Scripture!”

And on and on and on it goes.

Meanwhile, Scripture is sitting there saying:

Let there be no divisions among you.

Do not be quarrelsome.

Avoid foolish arguments.

Pursue peace.

Be gentle.

Be humble.

Build one another up.

Bear with one another in love.

I used to be like this too.

That’s important for me to say.

I’m not standing outside of this pointing my finger at everyone else.

I used to think it was my job to correct people.

I used to feel like I needed to convince people.

I used to get sucked into theological arguments and debates and feel like somehow defending God depended on me winning.

Until God changed my heart.

And honestly?

I just don’t want to do it anymore.

I cannot and will not spend my time watching Christians tear each other apart in comment sections over theological disagreements.

Because I keep coming back to one question:

Why in the world would someone want to follow Christ if they think that is what Christ is like?

Jesus said:

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
— John 13:35

Not if you win the argument.

Not if you have the most airtight systematic theology.

Not if you can explain predestination better than the guy in the comment section.

Not if you can prove that your denomination has been right for the last 400 years.

If you love one another.

And maybe that’s part of why I can’t stop thinking about a ridiculous dream I had recently.

I dreamed that I somehow teleported to Italy and stumbled upon an adult ballet academy.

Except this was not a normal ballet academy.

Instead of a room full of impossibly thin, incredibly serious young ballerinas striving for perfection, it was filled with a bunch of middle-aged women like me.

Midsized.

Wearing tutus.

Frolicking.

🤣

They weren’t worried about looking ridiculous. They weren’t competing. They weren’t standing around analyzing one another’s technique.

They were just dancing.

And in my dream, my immediate reaction was:

I WANT IN. WHERE DO I SIGN UP?!

I’ve laughed about that dream ever since, but I also haven’t been able to shake the feeling that there was something beautiful in it.

Maybe even a picture of something God wants to restore to His Church.

Joy.

Freedom.

People who aren’t terrified of getting everything wrong.

People who aren’t constantly inspecting everyone else’s technique.

People who aren’t standing along the wall yelling, “YOUR FOOT IS WRONG!”

Just a bunch of imperfect people who love Jesus, learning to dance together.

There is room for truth there.

There is room for correction.

There is room for disagreement.

There is room for theology.

But there is also humility.

Gentleness.

Patience.

Laughter.

Joy.

Love.

Because if our theology makes us more arrogant, more cruel, more argumentative, more suspicious, and less loving toward the people around us…

I think we should at least be willing to ask whether something has gone terribly wrong.

Paul wrote something else to those same Corinthians:

“If I… can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge… but do not have love, I am nothing.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:2

All knowledge.

And still nothing without love.

Maybe you can be completely correct about Calvinism.

Maybe you can be completely correct about spiritual gifts.

Maybe you can be completely correct about end-times theology, women in ministry, baptism, communion, church government, or whatever subject Christians are screaming about on the internet today.

But if knowing all of that has made you proud, cruel and quarrelsome?

Scripture has something to say about that too.

And if we’re going to claim Sola Scriptura…

Then we don’t get to ignore those Scriptures either.

Get it together people! Go, be love.

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Sorry for all the emails, but I wanted to give you guys an update about some changes I’ve made around here, specifically with paid subscriptions.

When I changed the direction of this publication and stepped away from Deeply Rooted, I honestly wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with paid subscriptions.

This space is different now.

It’s more personal. I’m writing about what I’m learning, what God is showing me, things I’m wrestling with, things I think are important, and sometimes just whatever is going on in my life.

And honestly, I like it so much better this way.

I also really don’t want to put all of my writing behind a paywall.

I want people to be able to read what I write regardless of whether or not they can afford to pay for it.

But there are also people who want to support my writing financially, and I wanted there to actually be some benefits for the people who choose to do that.

So, I changed some things!

First, paid subscribers now have access to the entire Deeply Rooted archive.

There are over 200 pieces of writing in there.

Which is kind of crazy to think about. 😂

Although the Lord has led me in a different direction, I decided I didn’t want to just get rid of everything I wrote during that season.

There are Bible teachings, testimonies, prophetic words, things God was teaching me, and a whole lot of me figuring things out in real time.

Some of it I would probably write differently today.

Actually, I KNOW some of it I would write differently today. 😂

But I also think there’s something kind of cool about being able to look back and see how things have changed.

So all of that is available to paid subscribers now.

I’m also offering paid subscribers a free 30-minute Consultation.

This is probably the thing I’m most excited about.

Every paid subscriber can schedule one free 30-minute video call with me.

If you cannot afford a paid subscription, please let me know in a comment and I will message you.

You can come with something you’re struggling with, something you’ve been praying about, a decision you’re trying to make, or honestly just something you want prayer for.

You can tell me your story, I’ll listen and pray with you, and then I’ll share any Scripture, encouragement, guidance, or prophetic insight I feel like the Lord is giving me. (I am not charging for prophetic words. But sometimes that just happens.)

I’m also a former school counselor and have a master’s degree in Guidance and Counseling.

So I’m also not afraid to say, “Hey, I think you need a therapist.” 😂

These calls are NOT therapy or mental-health treatment. If something comes up where I believe you would benefit from a therapist, psychiatrist, doctor, or another professional, I’m going to tell you that.

I am a very big believer in both.

Prayer AND therapy.

The supernatural AND practical help.

Hearing from God AND using the resources He has given us.

If you’re already a paid subscriber and want to schedule your call, you can email me at deeplyrootedwriley@gmail.com or DM me here.

I’ve also made Chat AND my DMs paid-subscriber only.

I thought about this one for a while too.

I love talking to you guys, and I don’t want that to change.

But I also realized that as this space grows, I need some boundaries around how accessible I am online.

So the subscriber Chat is now for paid subscribers only.

I want it to be a smaller place where we can actually talk. We can talk about things I write, faith, what God is teaching us, things we’re wrestling with, or probably whatever random thing we end up talking about that day. 😂

Paid subscribers can also direct message me privately through Substack.

So basically, part of a paid subscription is having a little more direct access to me and a smaller community where we can actually get to know each other.

So here’s what paid subscribers get now:

• Access to 200+ archived pieces from Deeply Rooted

• One free 30-minute Consultation video call

• Access to the paid subscriber Chat

• The ability to DM me privately through Substack

And I want to be VERY clear about something:

You absolutely do not have to become a paid subscriber.

Seriously.

My regular writing is still going to be available to free subscribers.

I don’t want this publication to become, “Pay me or you don’t get to hear what I have to say.”

That’s not what I want.

If you want to read my writing for free, PLEASE stay. I’m glad you’re here.

But if you enjoy what I write and you want to financially support me doing it, you can become a paid subscriber. And I wanted to make sure that if you choose to do that, you’re actually getting something extra in return.

If you’re already a paid subscriber, thank you. ❤️

And if you’ve been here since the Deeply Rooted days... thanks for sticking around while I apparently reinvent this thing every six months. 😂

I’m really happy with where it’s going now.

—Rebecca

And I feel like this information He has given me is not just for me. I believe there is a prophetic piece of this for the Body of Christ.

But before I share that part, let me share what I have learned.

What do Phil Robertson, David, Noah, Joshua, and Moses all have in common?

Ordinary people. Unusual strategies. Radical obedience.

Strategies that did not make sense in the natural, but made perfect sense to Heaven.

I have been rewatching the fantastic series Duck Dynasty lately, and I learned something new!

Phil Robertson invented a very specific kind of duck call that eventually turned into a multimillion-dollar company.

He was an average guy with a tough past who knew ducks. He had an idea, made the duck call, and created something different enough that it changed his entire life and eventually his family’s life.

I don’t know that Phil would describe the invention itself as a divine strategy from God, so I don’t want to put words in his mouth. But when I heard the story, I immediately saw the same principle God had been showing me.

Sometimes an idea doesn’t look like much at first.

Sometimes it might even sound ridiculous to everyone else.

Made sense to Heaven, but not to earth.

Noah

Noah is probably one of the most obvious examples of this.

God tells Noah that judgment is coming through a flood and then gives him an incredibly specific blueprint for an ark.

Not just, “Hey Noah, you should probably build a boat.”

He tells him what kind of wood to use. He gives him the dimensions. He tells him how many decks to build, where to put the opening, and how many doors it should have.

One door.

That’s it. Made zero sense. Why would you build a boat with only one way in and out?

And Noah builds it.

We don’t actually know from Scripture whether boats already existed, whether Noah had ever seen one, or even whether people stood around laughing at him while he built it. Those are things we tend to add when we tell the story.

But honestly, we don’t need those details to make it crazy.

God told a man to build an enormous ark on dry land because a catastrophic flood was coming.

And Noah did it.

Made sense to Heaven, but not to earth.

David

Then there is David.

David was a young shepherd who basically showed up at the right place at the right time.

He wasn’t going to the battlefield intending to fight anybody. His dad sent him to bring food to his brothers and check on them.

And when he gets there, he hears Goliath taunting Israel.

Everyone else is terrified.

David is basically like, Are you guys serious right now?

This is one of my favorite lines in Scripture:

“For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he should defy the armies of the living God?”

— 1 Samuel 17:26 (ESV)

David volunteers to fight him.

Saul tries to put his armor on David, because that’s what makes sense.

You’re going to fight a giant warrior? Obviously you need armor.

But David couldn’t even move around in it.

So he takes it off.

Instead, he goes to the stream and chooses five smooth stones.

And this is something I realized while writing this: Scripture doesn’t actually say God told David, “Go get five stones.”

David chose them.

Because David already knew how to use a sling.

He had spent years in a field protecting sheep. He had fought lions and bears. God had already been preparing him for this moment when nobody was watching.

David didn’t need Saul’s armor.

He needed what God had already put in his hand.

A sling.

A few rocks.

And faith in a God much bigger than Goliath.

And God just needed David to be himself.

Made sense to Heaven, but not to earth.

Joshua

Joshua and the battle of Jericho might be my favorite example of all of them.

Right before Jericho, Joshua is near the city when he sees a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword.

Joshua asks him essentially, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”

And the man answers:

“No; but I am the commander of the army of the LORD.”

Joshua falls facedown.

Before Joshua gets the strategy, he has an encounter.

And then comes Joshua 6.

God tells Joshua:

“See, I have given Jericho into your hand.”

— Joshua 6:2

Notice the tense.

Given.

The victory is spoken before the battle even begins.

And then God gives Joshua the battle strategy.

Except it is possibly the weirdest military strategy imaginable.

For six days, march around the city once.

Have seven priests carry seven trumpets in front of the Ark.

Don’t talk.

Don’t shout.

Just walk.

Then on the seventh day, walk around the city seven times.

The priests blow their trumpets.

The people shout.

And the walls fall.

Imagine being Joshua and having to go back to the Israelites and explain that plan.

Okay guys. I talked to God. Here’s what we’re going to do…

No battering ram.

No elaborate siege equipment.

They’re going to walk.

Joshua didn’t come up with a better military strategy.

He encountered God, received specific instructions, communicated them to the people, and then obeyed them even though they were completely unconventional.

Made sense to Heaven, but not to earth.

Moses

And then there is Moses and the Israelites.

You know the story.

God chooses an 80-year-old shepherd who insists he isn’t a good speaker to walk into Egypt and tell Pharaoh to let God’s people go.

And then, after they finally leave Egypt, God does something fascinating.

He intentionally takes them the long way.

Exodus tells us that God did not lead them by the shortest route, even though it was shorter.

He took them the roundabout way.

That really stood out to me.

Because if you were looking at a map, it didn’t make sense.

Why are we going THIS way when THAT way is obviously faster?

But God knew what was ahead of them on the shorter road.

They didn’t.

The longer route wasn’t evidence that they had heard God wrong.

The roundabout way was the strategy.

Made sense to Heaven, but not to earth.

So what do all of these stories have in common?

At first, I thought the progression was:

Encounter → revelation of strategy → obedience → victory.

But I realized that’s not quite right.

Because sometimes obedience doesn’t immediately look like victory.

Moses obeyed God and Pharaoh initially made things worse for the Israelites.

Abraham obeyed God and then waited years and years for the promise.

Jeremiah obeyed God and got thrown into a cistern.

Sometimes obedience leads directly to a wall falling.

Sometimes obedience leads into a wilderness.

So maybe the progression is actually:

Encounter → revelation → obedience → trust God with the outcome.

And I think that’s important.

Because the common thread isn’t that these were extraordinary people who had somehow figured out the secret to getting God to make them successful.

They were ordinary people who trusted God enough to obey Him when what He was asking didn’t make sense.

And another thing I noticed?

God so often used what was already in their hands.

David had a sling.

Moses had a staff.

Noah had his hands and whatever materials were available to him.

Joshua had priests, trumpets, and people who could walk.

Phil knew ducks.

The strategy might have been extraordinary.

The people and the raw materials were incredibly ordinary.

And that brings me to the prophetic part.

I believe God is giving people divine strategy.

I believe that many of you reading this have already been given divine strategy from Heaven.

And I think some of you are sitting there looking at it thinking:

This doesn’t make any sense.

How would this even work?

Why would God ask me to do it this way?

Surely there is someone more qualified than me.

I sense that God is giving those who worship Him in spirit and truth blueprints and strategies.

It may be for a secular business.

It may be a plan for a garden.

It may be a ministry idea.

It may be something for your family.

And most likely, it is something you would not have thought of on your own.

It might look too small.

It might look weird.

It might seem completely backwards.

It might even feel like God is taking you the roundabout way when there is a much more obvious route sitting right in front of you.

But the roundabout way might be the strategy.

There is someone reading this who has been waiting for confirmation to take the first step.

Consider this your confirmation.

You don’t have to know how the walls are going to fall before you start walking.

You don’t have to understand why God told you to build it that way.

You don’t need Saul’s armor when God has already taught you how to use a sling.

And you don’t have to be special.

You just have to be obedient.

God is looking for ordinary people He can trust with divine strategy for the next season of our world.

So if God has put something in your hand that doesn’t make any sense to anyone else?

Maybe that’s okay.

It doesn’t have to make sense to earth if it makes sense to Heaven.

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Disclaimer and trigger warning: This is not an article debating the use of mental health medication. This is an article discussing the mental health epidemic in America—and a tool I discovered almost by accident that made me start asking a lot of questions.

This article discusses depression, suicidal ideation, postpartum depression and psychosis.

My personal take on mental health medication is this:

I believe we should take the whole person into consideration when treating mental health.

Exercise. Nutrition. Sleep. Therapy. Vitamin and mineral deficiencies. Hormones. Trauma. Underlying health conditions. Community. Lifestyle. All of it matters, and I don’t think those things should simply be skipped over.

And I also believe there are times when medication is necessary.

And yes, I believe Jesus can do anything.

But I also believe that taking medication for a mental health condition is no more a spiritual failure than taking medication for another medical condition.

This isn’t really an article about that, though.

It’s about a question I can’t stop asking.

Are we using every tool available to us?

I was 12 the first time a doctor put me on mental health medication for depression.

I remember hating the way it made me feel, so I would hide the pills and not take them without my mom knowing.

I was on and off psychiatric medications until I was old enough to make my own health decisions.

At around 19, I became clinically depressed to the point that I could no longer cope with life.

I was suicidal.

That was the first time I went to a doctor on my own and said, essentially:

Something is wrong. I need help.

That began a very, very long road of medication trial and error.

Try this.

Wait.

Increase it.

Decrease it.

Add something else.

Wait.

This one makes things worse.

Try another one.

Wait some more.

When I was around 28, I eventually got off my medication and managed pretty well for several years with exercise, nutrition and lifestyle changes.

And then I had my daughter.

I suffered intensely from postpartum depression. I experienced thoughts of killing myself and my baby.

Thankfully, by then, I knew a lot about my own mental health. I had years of experience with psychiatric medication and already knew which medication had worked for me in the past.

I called my OB and told them I needed Effexor ASAP.

Within a couple of weeks, the depression, psychosis and overwhelming anxiety began to lift.

But I’ve thought many times since then:

What if I hadn’t known what worked?

What if I hadn’t already endured all those years of trial and error?

What if I had been experiencing postpartum psychosis for the first time while simultaneously trying medication after medication, waiting to find something that helped?

Those questions hit differently when I think about women like Lindsay Clancy.

Her case is incredibly complicated, and I want to be careful here. I don’t know what could or could not have prevented what happened. I don’t know whether different medication, genetic testing or any other intervention would have changed the outcome.

I don’t think anyone can responsibly make that claim.

But I do know that she sought help.

And her story makes me ask a larger question:

When someone’s life—or the lives of the people around them—is on the line, are we using every reasonable tool available to us?

About 50% of lifetime mental health conditions begin by age 14, and roughly 75% begin by the mid-20s.

Think about that.

I spent about five years working as a school counselor, primarily with students entering puberty.

And I saw two vastly different problems.

On one side, I saw students and parents self-diagnosing mental health disorders when what a child was experiencing could sometimes be part of normal puberty, hormones, stress and adolescence.

On the other side, I saw parents completely deny legitimate mental health conditions because they didn’t believe in them.

Both extremes concern me.

Because we have a mental health crisis in America.

That’s true regardless of what you believe about psychiatric medication.

Tens of millions of Americans are living with mental illness. Depression has increased dramatically. Children and teenagers are reporting staggering levels of psychological distress and suicidal thoughts. And a huge portion of Americans with mental illness still aren’t receiving treatment.

So with everything we now know about the brain, genetics, trauma, hormones, nutrition, medication, environmental factors and individualized treatment—

why are so many people still falling through the cracks?

Last week, I learned something at my doctor’s office that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

I have been struggling deeply with a depressive episode that reared its head this summer.

My wonderful doctor told me about something called GeneSight.

GeneSight is a pharmacogenomic test. It’s done with a cheek swab, and it analyzes certain genetic variants that can affect how your body interacts with some psychiatric medications.

I want to be really clear about something because this is important:

GeneSight cannot look at your DNA and magically tell your doctor which medication will cure your depression.

It can’t guarantee that a medication will work.

It can’t guarantee that another medication won’t work.

And it cannot predict who will become suicidal on a particular medication.

What it can do is identify certain gene-drug interactions that may affect how your body metabolizes or responds to particular medications.

It’s another piece of information a doctor can use when deciding what to prescribe.

When I got my report back, I nearly cried.

Because several of the medications that had gone terribly for me over the years—the ones I had learned through painful trial and error were not good fits for me—showed significant gene-drug interactions on my report.

I had spent years discovering some of this information through experience.

And now I was looking at a piece of paper containing information about my own genetics that could potentially have helped inform some of those decisions.

That hit me hard.

The testing also raised another subject with my doctor: MTHFR.

Certain variants of the MTHFR gene can affect an enzyme involved in folate metabolism.

Again, this isn’t as simple as saying, “I have the bad MTHFR gene, therefore I can’t process vitamins.”

MTHFR variants are actually very common, and having one doesn’t automatically mean someone has a vitamin deficiency or mental health disorder.

But learning about it made me start thinking about the bigger picture.

Genetics.

Folate.

B vitamins.

Vitamin D.

Iron.

Thyroid function.

Hormones.

Sleep.

Trauma.

Medication metabolism.

Nutrition.

What if instead of looking at a person experiencing depression and asking only,

“Which antidepressant should we try?”

we asked,

“What is happening in this person’s entire body?”

And then I thought about my mom.

My mom suffers from schizoaffective disorder and was recently arrested during a psychotic break where she threatened real harm to another human.

And I found myself wondering:

Has anyone ever done pharmacogenomic testing on her?

Are her medications being metabolized the way her doctors expect?

Have all of the possible underlying physical contributors been evaluated?

Would any of that change her treatment?

I don’t know.

And that’s the part I need to emphasize:

I don’t know.

I cannot say this test would have saved my mom.

I cannot say it would have saved Lindsay Clancy.

I cannot say it would save someone else.

Mental illness is far too complicated for that.

But I can’t stop thinking about the question.

Why aren’t patients routinely told about every reasonable tool that could potentially help inform their treatment?

Maybe there are good reasons.

Maybe it’s insurance.

Maybe it’s cost.

Maybe the evidence isn’t strong enough to justify using pharmacogenomic testing routinely for every patient.

Maybe it’s useful in some circumstances and unnecessary in others.

I genuinely don’t have all the answers.

But I do know that I went through decades of mental health treatment before I knew this kind of testing even existed.

And I want other people to know that it exists, too.

Not because GeneSight is the answer.

It’s not.

But because patients deserve to know what questions they can ask.

Mental health conditions can have biological components.

Physical health can affect mental health.

Vitamin deficiencies can sometimes contribute to psychiatric symptoms.

Hormones can matter.

Trauma can matter.

Genetics can matter.

Environment can matter.

Medication can matter.

Therapy can matter.

Exercise, nutrition, sleep and community can matter.

And sometimes, despite doing everything “right,” a person can still become desperately ill.

Mental illness is complicated.

Which is exactly why I don’t think our response to it should be simple.

So regardless of what you believe about psychiatric medication—and regardless of what you believe about taking psychiatric medication as a Christian—that isn’t really my point.

My point is this:

We have people dying.

We have children struggling.

We have mothers experiencing postpartum psychosis.

We have people cycling through medication after medication.

We have people living on the streets with severe untreated mental illness.

We have families who don’t know what to do.

And we have more information about the human brain and body than we’ve ever had before.

So maybe the question isn’t:

Medication or no medication?

Maybe the question is:

Are we looking at the whole person?

Are we checking what can be checked?

Are we telling patients what options exist?

Are we treating mental illness with the same curiosity and seriousness that we would any other complicated disease?

I don’t know what the solution to America’s mental health crisis is.

I don’t think it’s one genetic test.

I don’t think it’s one medication.

I don’t think it’s one vitamin.

I don’t think it’s exercise.

And I don’t think it’s telling suffering people that they just need more faith.

I think it’s probably much more complicated than any of those answers.

But after looking at my own genetic results and thinking about the decades I spent figuring out my own mental health through trial and error, I keep coming back to the same question:

We have tools.

Why aren’t we using every one we reasonably can?

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In fact, I think one of the reasons they were so disorienting was because I didn’t see them coming.

I really believed my darkest days were behind me.

When I said “yes” to shutting down my coaching business and “yes” to a sabbatical with an unknown ending, I think I secretly assumed God was leading me into a season of sunshine and rainbows.

Don’t ask me why I thought that.

Because that isn’t what happened.

Although it was filled with moments of beauty…

Instead…

• My migraines came back with a vengeance.

• I lost friendships.

• My mom went back to jail.

• Things with another close family member fell apart.

• My marriage met a LOT of warfare.

• I spent a whole lot of time in bed.

• I fell into one of the deepest depressions I’ve experienced in a very long time.

But the hardest part?

God stopped speaking.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know I have always been pretty open about experiencing God prophetically. Hearing His voice wasn’t unusual for me—it was normal.

On an average day, I could talk to Him like He was sitting beside me. He would whisper things about strangers. He would illuminate Scripture. He would gently redirect me throughout the day.

Then…

Nothing.

Silence.

I remember one day finally yelling,

“Why aren’t You talking to me?”

Could I come up with explanations for why He allowed that season?

Probably.

But explanations don’t erase grief.

They don’t make silence hurt less.

In fact, grief is what shows up when hope runs out. And I lost hope.

Then one day—completely out of the blue, it seemed—after I had finally become content with simply being instead of trying to figure everything out…

He spoke again.

Around that same time, I prayed a lot about what to do with Deeply Rooted—the platform, the ministry, and the business I had spent years building.

In the end, I realized it needed to die.

Not because it was bad.

Not because it was a mistake.

But because the version of me that had been underneath it all this time needed room to live.

One unexpected gift from this wilderness has been this:

It has made me hold some things with greater confidence… and other things with much more open hands.

Things I have become more sure of

• Life can be beautiful if you choose to look for the beauty. No matter what.

• If God entrusts someone with ministry, He often uses seasons of hiddenness, suffering, and surrender to shape their character before expanding their influence.

• The rhythm of the Spirit is not the same rhythm as the world.

• No one has all the answers except Jesus Himself.

• God is not afraid of my questions.

• The Church is imperfect and often fails to reflect God’s heart, yet He still chooses to work through it.

• God cares far more about my heart and the way I love people than what I accomplish for Him.

• We all have a choice. God never forces someone’s will.

• Suffering is sometimes part of God’s will. We can be walking in obedience and still suffer. I don’t believe He delights in causing our pain, but nothing reaches us outside of His permission.

• Intimacy with Jesus matters more than being right.

• Love is a better witness than winning an argument.

• The fruit of the Spirit is a more reliable measure of spiritual maturity than spiritual gifts.

• God is patient with my process.

• Faithfulness is more important than visibility.

• God is able to lead me without another human making my decisions for me.

• Obedience is usually quieter and less glamorous than I imagined.

• Grace is deeper than I ever realized.

• My identity is found in being loved by God, not in being useful to God.

Things I have become less sure of

• Healing—is it always God’s will on this side of eternity, or are some healings reserved for the life to come?

• The way we’ve often presented the gospel. There isn’t a “sinner’s prayer” in the Bible. Maybe we’ve spent more time trying to make converts than disciples.

• Deliverance. This was something I was incredibly certain about before entering my own wilderness.

• Myself. I’m not special. I’m simply a woman in a sinful body who is deeply loved by her Creator.

• The charismatic movement. I still love the gifts of the Spirit, but I think we desperately need balance.

• That every hardship has a simple spiritual explanation.

• That every dream, vision, or impression needs an immediate interpretation.

• That every emotional struggle is primarily a spiritual battle.

• That certainty is the same thing as maturity.

• That every biblical command has only one faithful application.

• That ministry success is evidence of God’s approval.

• That louder, flashier, or more supernatural automatically means “more of God.”

• That I need an answer for every theological question.

• Where healthy spiritual authority ends and unhealthy dependence begins.

I’m curious…

As you’ve walked with Jesus, what have you become more sure of?

What have you become less sure of?

And why?

So, if you still choose to be here—for just me—welcome.

I don’t have a grand plan.

I don’t have expert opinions.

I don’t have a five-step formula to freedom.

What I do have is a desire to keep following Jesus, even when I don’t understand where He’s is leading.

So if you stick around, you’ll get honesty with a healthy dose of humor, curiosity, and probably more questions than answers.

You’ll watch me wrestle with Scripture, celebrate what God is doing, share prophetic words He wants me to release, grieve what He’s allowing, laugh at myself more often than I take myself seriously, and keep learning what it means to become more like Jesus.

I’m not interested in building a platform anymore.

I’m interested in becoming the kind of person who looks a little more like Christ tomorrow than I do today.

I’ll leave you with something I wrote in the middle of the wilderness.

My spiritual director suggested I stop trying to explain everything to God and simply pray what was true.

So I wrote this.

Into the Unknown

How long am I stuck here?

Between the rock and the hard place I find myself in.

How long will You be silent?

How long will life feel filled with disappointment?

Will I ever fit in?

Will I ever find a community where I can be fully myself?

I am the butt of people’s jokes, I’m sure.

Did I ruin my own life?

If You knew I would end up here, why did You lead me?

Was it all a joke?

Am I crazy?

I want You to be enough.

I wish I could say that You are enough.

I am staring down the path of a long journey, and I’m not sure I want to go with You.

But the depths of my being cry out for You.

You are all there is.

There is nowhere else to go.

All roads lead to You.

So I guess I will go.

Into the unknown.

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” — John 6:68

When I stepped away from ministry and writing in the first week of April, I called it a sabbatical.

I’m not calling it that anymore.

Not because anything dramatic happened.

But because “sabbatical” implies I know when it ends.

It implies I know what comes next.

I don’t.

I don’t know when this season will end.

I don’t know what Deeply Rooted will become.

I don’t…

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"Could it really be this easy

That You love me like You say You do?

I've got years and years of striving

When there was nothing left to prove..."

These lyrics have been playing on repeat in my head for days.

Not in my headphones.

In my spirit.

Because lately, I feel like my spiritual GPS is being recalibrated.

And honestly, it's disorienting.

I don't feel like …

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Last night I had a dream that I can’t stop thinking about. Which usually means the Holy Spirit wants me to pay attention .

In the dream, I was flying a small plane carrying a huge transport of donated clothing. The clothing was important. There was a lot of it. I remember feeling confident when I first took off.

But right before I landed, something happen…

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We know what to do when the miracle comes quickly.

We know what to do when the breakthrough happens.

We know how to celebrate testimonies.

But what about when you prayed and the answer didn’t come?

Or when it came… and then the sy…

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“Remember who you are.”

It’s everywhere.

Even in The Lion King…

And I genuinely believe the Lord is highlighting this right now for the Body of Christ.

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Not because I am afraid of questions.

And not because I think every cessationist is hateful, ignorant, or unsaved.

But honestly, I’m tired of having the same conversations with people who aren’t trying to understand.

Many of the people I love most in this world are cessationist Chri…

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I’ve been rewatching the Netflix show Locke & Key lately, and honestly, watching it this time has felt completely different.

Not because I suddenly think every TV show is secretly prophetic.

And not because I think Christians need to become obsessed with darkness.

Actually the opposite.

Watching it this time, I keep noticing how accurately it reflects certa…

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Several people asked for my full testimony so here that is: https://youtu.be/seHAnv7DFxc?si=aKh7jhzByroVPH3X

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I did not have language for what I was experiencing. I did not grow up understanding prophetic gifting, discernment, or spiritual sensitivity in a healthy, biblical way. So when I would sense things deeply, have vivid dreams, feel overwhelmed in certain environments, or pick up on things other people seemed bli…

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Not random dreams. Not chaotic dreams.

Deep, symbolic dreams that feel like the Holy Spirit is teaching me while I sleep.

Last night, I had one that I cannot stop thinking about.

Ironically, the day before, I had recorded a video on Substack about identity and how God created you on pur…

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