Welcome to The Scholar’s Dark Night of the Soul
I did not set out to become a person who writes about amputation, hospitals, dissertation deadlines, grief, faith, and the strange ways God keeps calling even when life feels unbearably quiet. But here I am.
This blog is about my journey through one of the hardest seasons of my life: losing a leg, finishing graduate school, trying to heal, trying to keep going, and trying to understand what God wants from me in the middle of it all. Some days that calling feels clear. Other days, it feels like I am sitting in the dark with no map, no signal, and no idea what comes next.
The title is inspired by The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. That phrase is often used casually, but for me it means something deeper. It is not just sadness. It is not just struggle. It is the painful, holy darkness where everything familiar gets stripped away and you are left asking the questions that really matter: Who am I now? What is God doing with this? What am I being prepared for? And how do I keep walking when walking itself has become complicated?
I am writing this as a scholar, a person of faith, an amputee, a recovering perfectionist, and someone still discerning where God is leading me. I will write about education, disability, recovery, vocation, church, grief, humor, and the stubborn grace that shows up when you least expect it. Some posts may be reflective. Some may be raw. Some may be practical. And knowing me, some may include just enough sarcasm to keep things from getting too holy too fast.
This is not a blog about having all the answers. Lord knows I do not. It is about paying attention in the dark. It is about telling the truth about suffering without letting suffering have the final word. It is about learning that healing is not always dramatic. Sometimes healing is taking the medicine, changing the bandage, submitting the dissertation, saying the prayer, asking for help, and getting up again tomorrow.
So welcome. Pull up a chair, a pew, a wheelchair, or whatever gets you through the day.
This is my dark night.
And somehow, by grace, I am still moving toward morning.
