Welcome. I’m Alison.
Until a handful of years ago, I thought myself a good person. I grew up in a good family, served in a good church, and spent my time doing good things.
Then, I broke.
Post-partum anxiety. Raging hypochondria. Debilitating panic attacks. Fear splintered my mind and shattered my peace. The faith I’d taken for granted shriveled like the fragile thing it was, leaving me adrift and petrified.
But I wasn’t at the bottom, not yet. The funny thing about fractures—they create space for us to see what’s inside. My broken places showed me who I am, and it’s far from the good girl I once believed myself to be. Confronted with the reality of my inner darkness, I crumbled.
Had my journey ended there, it would hardly be worth sharing. By God’s grace—and you will learn I do not speak those words flippantly—I clung to the fragments of truth I could still recognize, and they allowed me a frail, cautious hold on hope:
There is nothing so broken God cannot redeem it.
I do not believe this easily. Faith is difficult. Hope, sometimes more so. But I’ve kept a white-knuckled grip on Jesus, and choosing him has yet to land me in regret.
In my months of deepest brokenness, I often sat alone in a cemetery near our house, speaking to the gravestones. I didn’t know a single soul whose body lay beneath that soil, but it was the only place under an open sky where I could sit and cry without judgment from passersby.
That place of death became a safe space, in the same way I want this website to be a safe space for all who visit. No judgment, no pretending, no expectation beyond honesty. That’s all I’m asking, and all I’m offering.
Out of death, life. Out of brokenness, beauty.
Hope with me. Will you?