You may or may not believe in God or any other entity. You may feel that you must face your battles alone, depending only on your own strength. But either way, know this: you are chosen. Each of us has a purpose, even if we do not always see it in the middle of our pain.
As a guest speaker at the Chatham County correctional facility, I delivered a message that resonated deeply with those in attendance. I was invited to speak at the graduation of a Veterans program, a group of men who, like me, have wrestled with mental health and substance addiction. Why me, you might wonder? Because I’ve walked in their shoes. I know the weight of depression, the fog of addiction, and the despair of believing you are too far gone. When I crafted my speech, I couldn’t offer clichés or distant advice. I had to share honestly the path I took to overcome my battles, a path paved with scripture, faith, and the slow rebuilding of trust in myself and in God.
I was familiar with Jesus, but like so many, I didn’t truly lean on Him until I hit rock bottom. It was at my lowest points in the aftermath of broken relationships, addiction, and even suicide attempts that I discovered the strength of God’s grace. My growing relationship with Him gave me a sense of purpose when I felt I had none. Today, I know without doubt that I am loved, chosen, and destined to use my experiences to serve others. It is not a burden but a privilege to serve God by being a fisher of men, guiding others out of the same darkness I once lived in.
As an active member of Risen Savior, a WELS Lutheran Christian Church, my faith has become a guiding light through my struggle with mental health. The Bible has given me clarity when confusion clouded my thoughts, peace when fear overwhelmed me, and wisdom when I needed direction. My scars emotional and spiritual have become platforms to connect with others. Where I once felt shame, I now see opportunity. Deuteronomy 7:6-8 reminds us that God has chosen us as His treasured possession. Even in our brokenness, we carry value and purpose.
Mental health struggles are not abstract to me. I know the reality of waking up with crushing anxiety, the despair of looking in the mirror and hating the person staring back, and the emptiness of suicidal thoughts. For years, I believed these experiences made me weak, but today I see them differently. They have given me empathy, compassion, and the ability to stand alongside others in their suffering and say, “I understand, and you are not alone.”
Too often, society misunderstands or undervalues mental health challenges. In the military, I saw countless soldiers hide their struggles, fearing stigma or career consequences. As a police officer, I responded to calls involving people in crisis and saw firsthand how ill-equipped our systems are to provide real help. Strength, I once thought, meant silence. But silence nearly cost me my life. Only when I embraced vulnerability did I learn that asking for help is not weakness it is the first step toward healing.
John 15:16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit, fruit that will last. My fruit, I believe, will come through service to others who are struggling with mental health. That is why I have chosen to pursue psychology and counseling. My journey has convinced me that mental health care must be accessible, compassionate, and immediate. Too many people suffer in silence because help is out of reach, stigmatized, or unavailable when a crisis strikes. My calling is to change that.
My long-term goal is to create a mobile mental health clinic a service that drives directly to homes, workplaces, or even street corners to meet people where they are. Imagine a system where a police officer, responding to a man with schizophrenia off his medication, doesn’t have to rely on force. Instead, that officer could call our team, and we would arrive within minutes, equipped with medication, de-escalation techniques, and the ability to begin treatment immediately. Or imagine a teenager spiraling in depression, fighting with parents late at night. Too often, police are called into these situations, but without training, they may unintentionally escalate them. With a mobile mental health response team, we could turn those moments of crisis into opportunities for connection, healing, and safety.
This vision is not just about emergency response. It is about after-hours care, about making mental health services as accessible as dialing 911, and about preventing tragedy before it occurs. Jeremiah 29:11 reminds me that God’s plan is to give us hope and a future. For me, that future means building a system where no one has to face mental illness alone or wait weeks for care while their crisis deepens.
I am a first-generation student, a father, and a veteran who has walked through darkness and come out stronger. This scholarship would not just help me afford graduate education; it would fuel my mission of turning pain into purpose. I want to honor the memory of Dima and others lost too soon by fighting for those who feel unseen, unheard, and unsupported. With this opportunity, I will grow into the counselor, advocate, and leader my community needs.
Ephesians 3:20 declares that God can do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. I have already witnessed miracles in my own life the miracle of sobriety, reconciliation, and waking up with a purpose I once thought I had lost. Miracles do not always appear in grand gestures; sometimes they come in a smile, a hug, or a single moment of connection that changes the course of someone’s day.
Luke 12:7 reminds us that every hair on our head is counted, that we are worth more than sparrows. This truth assures me that God is in the details, in the small blessings that sustain us when we feel forgotten. And so, I challenge myself and others to live boldly, dream beyond limitations, and cast away fear. Be someone’s miracle. Offer compassion, extend grace, and believe in the power of faith and courage.
This is my calling: to take what nearly destroyed me and use it to save others. With faith as my foundation and education as my tool, I will continue building a future where mental health care is not a privilege but a right, available to all who need it, when they need it.