There’s a version of faith that looks peaceful on the outside, but functions like avoidance on the inside. It knows the language. It quotes the verses. It says “I’m healed,” “I’ve forgiven,” “I’m trusting God”, and yet nothing actually changes.

In this episode, we talk about spiritual bypassing, the habit of using faith, prayer, or spiritual language to skip the hard, human work of healing. Not because we’re dishonest, but because we’re afraid. Afraid of slowing down. Afraid of what we might find if we stop moving long enough to feel what hasn’t been processed yet.

This isn’t an attack on faith. It’s a defense of it.

Because real faith doesn’t bypass pain, it enters it. It doesn’t rush grief. It doesn’t demand instant clarity or premature peace. It sits in the tension between belief and doubt, between prayer and honesty, between what we say we’ve surrendered and what we’re still holding in our bodies.

In a culture that often rewards spiritual certainty and emotional composure, we explore how bypassing can masquerade as maturity. How phrases like “God’s got it” can become a way to avoid hard conversations.

How forgiveness can be declared long before resentment has actually been faced. And how unprocessed pain doesn’t disappear in prayer, it simply relocates, leaking into our marriages, our parenting, our tone, our silence, and our burnout.

This episode also examines how psychology and faith are not in competition, but in conversation. Therapy doesn’t replace God; it gives language to what faith is already inviting us to confront. Because healing doesn’t come from pretending we’re fine. It comes from being honest enough to admit we’re not.

With a quiet, grounded intensity, this conversation leans into the shadow side of spirituality, the part that doesn’t post well, doesn’t sound impressive, and doesn’t resolve neatly. The part that asks whether we’ve been anointing wounds we’ve never cleaned, and whether our version of peace is actually just emotional numbing dressed up as holiness.

If you’ve ever felt pressured to “be okay” before you were ready…

If you’ve ever rushed forgiveness because sitting in anger felt unchristian…

If you’ve ever used spiritual language to avoid naming what hurt you…

This episode is an invitation to slow down. To stop bypassing. To let faith do what it was always meant to do, not shield us from pain, but walk with us through it.

Because God doesn’t need you to be healed on demand. He doesn’t need polished answers or spiritual shortcuts. He meets you in honesty, not performance. And healing doesn’t happen when we avoid the dark; it happens when we’re willing to walk through it, with God beside us, not ahead of us, telling us to hurry up.

There’s a phrase that floats around every conversation about healing, relationships, and empathy, “Holding space.” We say it like it’s simple. Like it’s something everyone just knows how to do. But if we’re honest… most of us don’t.

In this episode, we dig into what it really means to hold space, for others, for our partners, for our kids, and maybe most importantly, for ourselves. Because holding space isn’t about silence or passivity. It’s about presence without agenda. Compassion without control. It’s about learning how to sit in the tension between wanting to fix and being willing to feel.

From the teacher who carries everyone’s emotional weight until they’re running on fumes, to the parent in a blended family trying to navigate love and loyalty in equal measure, “holding space” becomes the quiet skill that determines whether relationships grow or quietly collapse.

This episode unpacks how “holding space” shows up in faith, too. How God holds space for us, not by rushing our process, not by demanding instant healing, but by sitting in the garden with us when all we have left are tears and questions. Because sometimes holding space looks less like a hug and more like standing guard while someone fights their inner war.

We’ll talk about the emotional cost of always being the “safe one,” the exhaustion that comes from being emotionally available in a world that rarely reciprocates, and how to know when “holding space” turns into self-erasure. You’ll hear reflections on how empathy can become a double-edged sword, how compassion can both connect and consume us if we’re not careful.

There’s honesty here, the kind that doesn’t make you feel better immediately, but makes you feel seen. Because to hold space well, you have to first believe your space is worth holding.

So this isn’t just another feel-good, self-help conversation. This is for the ones who are tired of surface-level healing, who know that empathy without boundaries is martyrdom, and who are ready to learn how to sit in the holy mess of being human.

Whether you’re a teacher, a parent, a partner, or someone who’s just trying to stay soft in a hard world, this episode is a quiet reminder that healing isn’t about fixing everything. It’s about learning how to hold what hurts without losing who you are.

We talk a lot about creative burnout like it’s just a productivity issue.

Like all you need is a better workflow, a prettier planner, or one more self-help podcast to “get your spark back.”

But what about when you’re not just burned out — you’re emotionally broke?

When the well you create from has run dry, not because you’re lazy or uninspired, but because life has just taken too much from you lately?

This episode isn’t about chasing motivation. It’s about surviving the silence that comes after your creativity stops being fun — when every idea feels heavy, and even the things that used to give you life now just ask for more of what you don’t have.

As someone who lives in the space between art and emotional honesty, I’ve learned that creativity has a cost — and sometimes, it’s your last bit of mental stability. And when you’re emotionally broke, even your best ideas come with interest you can’t afford to pay.

We’ll talk about:

• What it means to show up creatively when your inner world feels hollow.

• How to give yourself permission to pause — without guilt.

• The difference between creating for healing and creating from pain.

• And how faith fits into it all — because sometimes, prayer is the only creative act left when words stop making sense.

Because here’s the truth — when you’re emotionally broke, God doesn’t ask you to produce. He asks you to abide. You don’t need to create a masterpiece every time you feel lost. Sometimes, you just need to sit still long enough for the storm to settle and let your spirit breathe again.

I’ll share how I’ve had to unlearn the hustle of “creating through it” — how sometimes the most spiritual, most creative thing you can do is rest. I’ll talk about what it means to create from scar tissue instead of open wounds, and how that shift can make your work more honest and sustainable.

And we’ll be real about it — because yeah, it’s easy to post that “your pain has purpose” quote, but it’s harder when you’re sitting in front of a blank page, wondering if the purpose is ever going to show up.

Faith, for me, is the only thing that steadies that hand.

It’s what reminds me that creation itself was never about perfection — it was about breath. The same God who spoke galaxies into being also gave you permission to just be.

So, if you’re an artist, a teacher, a parent, or just someone who’s tired of being told to “push through it” — this one’s for you. We’re gonna talk about what happens when you stop performing and start listening. When you stop trying to impress and start to heal.

Because maybe the real art happens when we stop creating for validation and start creating for resurrection.

And maybe being emotionally broke isn’t a creative death sentence.

Maybe it’s just a holy pause — God’s way of teaching you to rebuild your art, and your heart, with Him this time.

So, pull up a chair, breathe a little deeper, and let’s talk about how to make something honest when you feel like you’ve got nothing left to give.

Because yeah — therapy is expensive.

But so is pretending you’re okay enough to keep creating.