Divine Intervention Story Time

Oct 27, 2025

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. on the door.

We all three nearly jumped out of our skin.

A frantic voice called out, “Hello? Hello?? I need a psychiatrist! Is there a psychiatrist here?”

Renee stood up immediately. I turned to my friend, Mihya, whose eyes were as wide as mine felt. The woman who had stormed in had her Medicaid provider on speakerphone. She was standing in the hallway, saying she was in pain, still asking for a psychiatrist.

Renee walked out and tried to get information as quickly as she could.

“Is there an emergency?”

“No, I’m in pain, and I saw wellness on the sign outside. I thought maybe there was a psychiatrist in here who could help me talk to my insurance about my psych meds.”

Hearing no emergency was enough for Mihya and I to exhale and stop bracing for a crisis.

If you know me, you already know what happened next. I heard I’m in pain, and my ears perked up. I walked out into the hallway and asked the same question I ask everyone:

“Are you in pain now?”

“Oh, every day of my life.”

“What’s your pain level right now, zero to ten? Ten is please shoot me.”

“About an eight.”

I turned to Renee without hesitation. “Renee, can we please borrow your table?”

“By all means,” she said, smiling—she already knew what was coming.

Mihya has her own amazing healing hands as well. She’s tag-teamed with me many times, including on Renee herself once before. She also knew what was coming and started getting the massage table ready as I took off my rings.

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman. She told me, and I said, “Would you please come in here so we can help you?”

“Oh no, I don’t have any money,” she said.

“My love, I don’t want your money,” I said. “Can I help you? Do you have ten minutes?”

Renee chimed in, “Please come in here and let these girls minister to you.”

“Oh… oh! You want my time? Okay, whatever you say!”

Just moments earlier, we had been in a meeting with Renee—a trauma-informed massage therapist with all kinds of specialized training. She runs ReconnectDFW here in town. Mihya had introduced us with no real agenda—just to see how our visions might connect and how we might collaborate to bring more healing to our community.

When the meeting was first suggested, I leapt at the opportunity. I knew it would be fruitful, even if I didn’t yet know how.

Renee often wears a shirt that says:

“Because touch is a basic human need, and safe touch is a basic human right.”

She’d just finished telling us about her plans to bring safe-touch education to other practitioners, support domestic violence survivors, and advocate for trauma-informed care in our area.

As I listened, I just kept thinking, Wow, this is so freaking aligned.

When she asked about my work, I told her more about Zero Point Integration, which she had already experienced with me twice before, and about @secondwavehippies and our Wellness For All initiative—how I believe, with my whole heart, that wellness is a human right, not a luxury.

I had just finished telling her, honestly:

“Not that I don’t love and respect my clients everywhere—I just get tired of seeing only the people who can afford it getting the care they need while so many others go without because of money. I want to help the people who can’t get it elsewhere. We’ve got to figure out how to all get well together.”

Service energizes me, but service that isn’t rooted in wisdom or that doesn’t feed my heart can leave me feeling depleted. I’ve learned this over time working as a helper. I was telling her about my sincere desire to be exactly where I’m most needed, at any given time.

And then—as if in instant response to that prayer—in storms this woman.

She accepted my invitation, got on the table, and within fifteen minutes, the shift was profound. The frantic, dazed woman transformed into someone completely calm, present, and open.

She began to tell us her story: a life marked by abuse, poverty, and pain. Two strokes, an aneurysm, surgeries, sleepless nights, constant pain. And no car. She walks to the laundromat for her first steady job since brain surgery—with no family to support her.

She said she didn’t even know how she got to us or why she came. “One minute I was standing there at work,” she said, “and the next, I was on the phone with my insurance, walking down the street to nowhere. Then I saw the word wellness on the sign and thought, maybe someone in there can help. It was like I was in a trance.”

“Or divinely led,” I offered.

She laughed, then cried. “Only by His grace,” she said, and then laughed again as Mihya and I continued our work.

She burped and said, intuitively, “Y’all are getting this bad energy out of me. I can feel it moving.”

After that short session, she said she needed to get back to work. When she sat up, she looked like she’d just woken from a twelve-hour rest. The whites of her eyes, which had been cloudy when she walked in, were now clear.

She stood up and—I swear to you—did a little jig.

She went from an 8 to a 5, and that 5 was localized to one small spot in her lower back, all within about fifteen minutes. She promised that was enough for now, that she felt amazing, and really had to get back to work.

“I don’t know how to thank you all,” she said.

We exchanged numbers. I told her to call me if she’s in pain or needs anything, and off she went.

The three of us just stood there for a second, jaws dropped, in complete awe of what had just happened.

“That is what I want to do,” I said, teary-eyed.

“I need a group hug,” Mihya laughed.

“That,” said Renee, “was divine intervention if I’ve ever seen it.”

This is not based on a true story; it is a true, first-person account. If it spoke to you, I’d love for you to support this work by visiting Renee’s website and booking a session with her if you’re local.

You can support my work by booking a session with me either locally or virtually. You can also sponsor holistic services for community members in need by donating gift cards at Mindful Wellness Center.

Mihya is an incredibly talented, intelligent PhD child psychologist. You can book with her through Rockhill Counseling.