Download a FREE workbook: What Are You Really Feeling?
Home About Podcast Seen in the Wilderness Refuge Donate Login

Where Christian women tell the truth before God

A refuge for women whose stories have become too heavy to carry in silence. Whether you are navigating grief, ministry wounds, spiritual abuse, or an unexpected wilderness, you will find honest companionship, spiritual formation, and the steady presence of Christ here.

Free 2 Day Live Event: Seen in the Wilderness

Hello, my name is Paris, I did not come to this work because I had answers. I came because I was drowning, and I could not find anyone who knew how to hold both my faith and my pain at the same time.

I was a homeschooling mother of six, all eleven and under, standing inside an impossible choice. When everything collapsed, the church community I had loved for years did not walk toward me. It walked away.

I know what it is to lose the people you thought would stay. I know what happens when your story no longer fits what others know how to hold.

I began training in this work believing it would make me better at serving others. Somewhere in the middle of it, I discovered I was the one who desperately needed a witness. Eventually someone pulled up a chair and stayed. She did not turn her face away, and she did not rush me, and that one room started to change every other room in my life. This ministry exists because every woman who holds the room deserves a room like that.

I have spent fifteen years walking with women through grief, trauma, and spiritual disorientation. I am a certified trauma-informed mentor and biblical coach through Freedom Movement, trained through ACBC and IBCD with continuing education through the Allender Center, and I am currently completing my spiritual direction practicum through Soul Shepherding. I will always tell you exactly where I am in my own formation, because a ministry built on honesty should begin with mine. I serve as a chaplain with Juvenile Justice Outreach, and I am still a homeschooling mother of six, which means nothing I teach was learned from a distance.

If Telling the Truth Has Cost You, You Are Not Alone.

If telling the truth has cost you relationships, belonging, or your place in the church, you are not alone. And if you have never tested it, because you already know what it would cost, you are not alone in that either.

You are the one everyone leans on. You hold the room at church, at home, at work, and you hold it well, because you always do. And then you drive home and hear your own tone shift with the people you love most, and you cannot explain why. Tonight you will lie awake replaying a conversation that ended six hours ago, and there will be no one to call about it. Not because no one loves you. Because you are the one they call.

You know the verses. You have taught some of them. And still there is a distance in your quiet time that you would never say out loud, and a part of you that used to feel something when you sang.

Competence is a beautiful thing, until it becomes the disguise a wound learns to wear. This place was built for the woman wearing it: in pulpits, classrooms, nonprofits, mission fields, and families, wherever a woman has become everyone else's refuge and has none of her own.

It is not your faith that has failed. It is the architecture.

There is a paradox at the center of a faithful, high-capacity life that almost no one names. You can be surrounded by people who love you and remain completely alone, because every relationship in the room depends on you staying strong inside of it. The women you might confide in are the women you serve, mentor, mother, or lead. This is sharpest in vocational ministry, where the role itself is spiritual, but it lives anywhere a woman has become the strong one. Honesty has a price tag in the places you love most, and somewhere along the way you did the math and decided the cost was too high.

That is not a character flaw, and it is not weak faith. It is architecture. The life was built with no container for the human being holding it up.

Hagar knew this wilderness. Used by the household for the household's purposes, and then unseen by it, she was found in the desert by the God who asked her the two questions no one else had thought to ask:

“Where have you come from, and where are you going?” Genesis 16:8

And she gave Him a name no one in Scripture had given Him before:

“You are a God who sees” Genesis 16:13

Between Grief & Glory exists to build what the architecture never did: a place where you can be fully honest and fully held, without being rushed, fixed, or asked to hold the room.

You do not have to have it all figured out

Everything here moves in one direction: from unseen to witnessed. Begin where you are.

Begin

 Seen in the Wilderness

a free, live, two-day gathering where you are the one being tended for once. Anchored in Hagar's story and the two questions God asked her in the desert, held live so the room can be honest.

Yes, I Want to be Seen

Belong

 Refuge or Refuge: Inner Courts

a two- tier monthly sanctuary of group spiritual direction, sacred reading, and covenanted community, built for the woman who is everyone else's refuge. 

Step into Refuge

Become

Storyline: Seen, Known and Restored

Go deeper in Storyline: Seen, Known and Restored, an eleven-week witnessed story cohort held to eight women, entered from within Refuge when the season opens. The deepest room in the house.

Join the Waitlist

What women say afterward:

"“I have never felt more seen, heard and understood.” "

“I wasn't pushed, I was accompanied.”

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE BEING HELD HERE

SPACE TO LAMENT WITHOUT SHAME

You are allowed to tell the truth about your pain—without being rushed, corrected, or silenced.

COMPANIONSHIP IN THE WILDERNESS

You are not left to navigate this alone. You are guided, seen, and held with care and discernment.

HOPE THAT DOES NOT RUSH THE PROCESS

No quick answers, no pressure to move on, but steady, Christ-centered hope that can actually sustain you. 

You do not have to hide to belong here.

You were not given a story so that you would carry it alone. You cannot tend to others from a place that has never been tended, and you were never asked to. The God who found Hagar in the wilderness has not lost track of you. He sees. And there is a room here where you can stop holding everything long enough to let Him.