Families sometimes face circumstances that feel overwhelming—when communication breaks down, emotions run high, and support feels just out of reach. For Nicole and her son, Jack, those challenges grew over time, shaped by past trauma, unexpected hardship, and the complexities of mental health. But through persistence, courage, and the support of Koinonia’s Crisis Resolution Center (CRC), they found something essential to healing: connection.
This is their story—a journey marked by growth, reflection, and a powerful reminder that healing is possible, even when the road feels uncertain.
Before connecting with the CRC, life at home had become increasingly difficult for Nicole and Jack. Jack, one of five siblings, had spent much of his early adolescence navigating complicated emotions while looking for guidance and belonging. His family’s challenges were compounded by an incident of violence when he was 14, which profoundly impacted his well-being.
“I grew up with four siblings and my mom,” Jack shared. “I found myself often looking to adult men as role models—even though they weren’t always positive influences. While many of our struggles as a family were typical, some were much more difficult. Everything changed for me at 14, when I was assaulted and hospitalized. That’s when I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I began to push my family away, confused about what was happening in my mind. I became angry, violent, and started self-harming. I was hospitalized multiple times for suicidal thoughts, and those experiences created a deep separation between me and my family.”
At the same time, Nicole was carrying the weight of her own history while doing her best to care for her children. Her experiences—marked by instability, relationship challenges, and single parenthood—shaped her deep desire to create a loving and supportive home.
“My life consisted of chaos and instability—from a strict, neglectful childhood to abusive relationships and single motherhood—all of which shaped the choices I made as an adult,” Nicole said. “I spent years chasing the idea of a stable, loving family because I had never known one. That deep longing for family often led me into unhealthy relationships, where I would sometimes overlook red flags in the hope of providing my kids with a sense of security and belonging.
After Jack was assaulted, he began having nightmares. Then COVID hit. Suddenly, he wasn’t just dealing with the aftermath of the attack—he was pulled out of school, cut off from his friends, sports, and every activity that gave him an outlet. We were all isolated, but for Jack, it was like every coping mechanism he had was ripped away. That’s when the real decline started. The depression set in hard.
I was desperate to find help. I called every therapist I could, reached out to the probation department—anywhere that might have a solution—because I knew things were heading in a really bad direction. Eventually, Jack told me, ‘I think I’m going to do something really bad.’ So he was hospitalized. But all they did was throw medication at him, and instead of helping, it seemed to make things worse.”
In the midst of navigating limited resources and mounting concerns, Nicole and Jack were connected with Koinonia’s Crisis Resolution Center—a program designed to provide short-term, therapeutic support for youth and families experiencing acute challenges. Jack was welcomed into one of the CRC’s homes, where healing could begin in a safe, structured, and compassionate environment.
We asked Jack what it was like in those first few days at the CRC.
“The first few nights there were terrifying. No one had ever really sat with me and genuinely asked how I was doing. At that point in my life, I felt completely alone. But eventually, I realized something—help was there, but I had to accept it. And thankfully, I was welcomed with open arms. After a few nights, the fear faded, and it actually became fun. I remember we’d all sit together and watch movies at night. It sounds so simple, but that was healing, because sometimes, you don’t need to talk about the pain or try to make sense of it. Sometimes, just knowing that you’re not alone is enough.
Most of my life, I felt alone—not because I didn’t have friends, but because no one really knew me. At the CRC, I got to be real. I didn’t have to pretend anymore, and that changed everything. I’m not going to say the journey is over—because honestly, with everything I’ve been through, I don’t think healing ever really ends. But I can say I see life differently now. I don’t consider myself depressed. I find happiness in things I never used to. The past is still there, sure, but it doesn’t define me anymore.
Even in the little things, the staff at the CRC made me feel understood. When I had to take my medication—which could have been awkward since they had to check that I actually swallowed it— the staff never made it uncomfortable. Instead, they just said, ‘It’s okay. We understand.’ They were doing their jobs, but it never felt like just a job with them. It felt like they genuinely wanted to help. That was the best feeling—to know that people truly cared about me.”
Nicole noticed the shift too—not just in Jack, but in herself. The support offered by the CRC wasn’t just for her son—it extended to her as well, offering guidance, tools, and a new framework for moving forward together.
“I think the biggest benefit we got from the CRC program was the tools it gave us. I had a rough childhood, and I was trying so hard to be a great mom. But the truth was, I didn’t have the tools, the knowledge, or the skill set to do it the right way. I wasn’t always able to recognize when I needed to step in, and I didn’t have the tools to stop things from spiraling out of control.
One of the biggest lessons I learned from the CRC was accountability. At the time, I didn’t fully recognize how my decisions were impacting my kids. But through the CRC, especially in those family reunification meetings, they really pushed that concept—there were no excuses. They made it clear: ‘There is accountability. There is action and reaction. And you are responsible for it.’ That was hard to hear, but it was necessary.
When Jack was finally able to come home, it wasn’t an instant fix. It took almost a year for us to truly start over. But the one thing that never changed was that we kept using what the CRC taught us. Those tools didn’t just disappear when the program ended. We leaned on them constantly.
There were moments when Jack would remind me of things the CRC staff said, and I had to stop and really listen. That’s what made the difference—learning to pause, to own my mistakes, and to keep doing the work even when it was painful.
The CRC didn’t magically fix our family, but it gave us a foundation. It gave us hope. And without it, I don’t think we’d be here today.”
Nicole appreciated that the CRC didn’t rely on a one-size-fits-all approach. The support they received was personal, hands-on, and deeply relational.
“There aren’t many organizations out there solely dedicated to building healthy family units, doing whatever it takes to help you get there—whether that means time apart, coaching, or tough conversations. But the CRC did exactly that, and I’m grateful we had the chance to be part of it.”
That ongoing connection is something Jack continues to value deeply. “You don’t need a reason to come back—stay for a day, sleep here if you need to, come by anytime,” they told him. That kind of support, he said, is rare. Without places like the CRC, he believes the world would be a much darker place.
“Even if a program like the CRC helps just one kid, that’s one more life changed for the better. But the CRC helps so many, and I wish there were more places like it. Both CRC and Koinonia genuinely care. They work with anyone who walks through their doors, no matter the challenges, and they never give up. They don’t just check a box and move on—they continue to check in, showing consistent, compassionate support.
When I came back a few weeks ago after years away, they told me, ‘If you ever want to talk, we’re always here.’ That’s what makes this place different. It’s more than a shelter or a program—it’s a gathering place, a safe haven.”
Having experienced firsthand how transformative that support can be, Nicole now encourages other families who feel overwhelmed or out of options to reach out.
“You need to call them. Just explain what’s going on, because they can help. Getting support from the CRC doesn’t always mean your child will stay there as a resident. They offer a range of resources—from counseling and educational support to short-term stays. What sets the CRC apart is that it’s the only program in the area truly focused on keeping families together and helping build healthy communication before things escalate.
I think a lot of families feel embarrassed or avoid conflict because they don’t want to face what’s really happening. But in my experience, when you’re open, candid, and real about your struggles, you begin to see how many other families are facing the same issues—if not more severe. And hearing someone else’s story can be the turning point. When they hear it from someone else, it suddenly opens the door for them to think, ‘Okay, you got through it. If you experienced that, maybe I can too.’
The more we talk about it, the more we share our stories, the more we’ll see people stop trying to hide their struggles or brush them under the rug. Because feeling stuck and alone—that’s the hardest part.”
Nicole and Jack’s journey is a powerful reminder that healing doesn’t require perfection—it requires support, honesty, and the belief that change is possible. Koinonia’s Crisis Resolution Center didn’t offer quick fixes, but it offered something more meaningful: a place to feel safe, a path to stability, and the tools to keep building a better future—together.
Kaitlin Earnest, Contributor