Last January I had the privilege of interviewing Cortney Buchholz, a dedicated psychiatric nurse practitioner from Duluth, Minnesota. Courtney’s journey is a story of God’s goodness and grace. As you read, may Jesus awaken the sunrise of your smile. —Jim Moon
Standing in the gap
Jim: Cortney, how did you find your way into the field of mental health?
Cortney: My journey started in nursing school at age 24, with an initial interest in psychiatry. However, it was filled with a series of twists and turns—I began with pediatrics at Loma Linda, then ran an assisted living center for a decade. During that period, I pursued a master’s degree, took a career break, and transitioned into mental health as a psychiatric nurse practitioner.
Jim: What is it about working in mental health that gives you meaning and purpose?
Cortney: As you can tell by my history —pediatrics, then geriatrics, and now psychiatry — I like working with vulnerable populations. When I worked with the geriatric population, a lot of people ignored or overlooked their elderly family members. Being able to step in during those vulnerable end of life seasons was really important to me.
With psychiatry, there is a lot of stigma around depression, mental health, anxiety and substance use. I value standing in the gap and lifting people’s spirits through compassionate listening. It is also important to provide community education, especially in our churches. I am passionate about church goers learning to alleviate shame through loving kindness.
The gospel of presence
Jim: It is important for the church to become a safer place for hurting people. In Acts 18, the apostle Paul shared the gospel with Aquila and Priscilla while working beside them as a tent maker. This Jewish couple had moved to Corinth after Emperor Claudias deported all Jews from Rome. Because of Paul’s influence, they journeyed with him to Ephesus and helped establish the church.
Based upon the example of Paul, Minnesota Tent Makers believe Jesus has called us to help the people we live and work with to embrace their belonging in Christ. How has your work as a mental health tent maker allowed you to do this?
Cortney: Working in psychiatry often means navigating ethical boundaries—I’m employed by a non-profit that isn’t religiously affiliated. While I can’t impose my beliefs, I aim to understand each person’s spiritual context to better support their mental health. I strive to live out Christ’s love and compassion. I’m not perfect at this, but Jesus shows up as I silently pray during my encounters with clients and colleagues. Offering full presence and praying for them in advance creates a space where they feel seen and heard.
Experiencing transformation
Jim: Your thoughts about presence remind me of Matt. 10:40: “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me. And whoever welcomes me, welcomes the one who sent me.” This promise describes what I like to call a gospel of presence. In your work, what changes have you noticed when you practice the gospel of presence?
Cortney: In crisis stabilization, we often see individuals experiencing intense emotions, such as anger or suicidal thoughts. Initially, there’s a lot of distress—pacing, agitation, tears. By listening fully and being present, we create a safe space for them to express themselves. Often, just knowing someone cares can bring a noticeable relief, and they leave feeling understood. Clients frequently comment on feeling heard, which is incredibly affirming.
Jim: It is important to feel heard. I am convinced that witnessing begins with listening. How can someone grow in their listening capacity?
Cortney: We need to pray for patience and peace, because sitting silently with someone who is in pain can be uncomfortable. It is natural to want to fix things. But instead of rushing to solutions, I silently pray and allow God to shape my responses. In many cases, holding space for their pain and trusting God to work in the silence makes the biggest difference.
Growing in empathy
Jim: What about your own experience? Have you seen an intersect between your story, God’s story, and the stories of those you serve?
Cortney: Absolutely. Toward the end of my assisted living business, I began struggling with personal issues. Thankfully my family and church offered incredible love, compassion and grace and support to help me through it.
As a result, my past struggles have profoundly shaped my ability to empathize with clients facing similar challenges. Sharing my journey, without delving into specifics, helps establish a therapeutic connection. My clients see someone who’s been through darkness and emerged stronger. God transformed my pain into a ministry of empathy and compassion.
Christlike connections
Jim: As we thought about how to meet people at the intersect, our Tent Maker Leadership Team identified four core values: pursuing Christ-like connections, working with excellence, choosing presence and helping others. Which are you most passionate about?
Cortney: Pursuing Christ-like connections resonates deeply. In my role, direct evangelism isn’t possible, but embodying Jesus’ love and presence is powerful. It’s about allowing Him to live through us, infusing His spirit into everyday interactions, and witnessing the impact on those around us.
Jim: How do you stay energized and connected to Christ amid the day to day demands of your work?
Cortney: It varies—sometimes I reach out to friends, other times I find solace in silence or prayer. Engaging with God’s presence helps me process the emotional weight of my work. The Holy Spirit transforms my unspoken prayers, turning exhaustion into renewed strength.
God also taught me He is working, even when I’m resting. Some time ago, I had client who was very aggressive. Staff were backing away from him. It was quite the thing.
I went toward this aggressive client with my hands down… speaking in slow and soft tones… doing all the things we use to deescalate.
This guy looked like he just walked out of the tombs. His hair was wild. He was bedraggled. But when we made eye contact, he had the most beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a lot younger when I saw his eyes. So I reached out to offer a comforting touch and he jerked back like I had burned him with a hot iron. I worked with him for five days straight.
The other staff were really having problems with him. He wouldn’t take medications, which aren’t always the answer, but in this case it would’ve been helpful. He was in deep turmoil.
I went home and called a friend from church. I didn’t go into details, but I shared how my heart couldn’t stop crying. I felt like such a failure.
The next morning I skipped church. I poured out my heart in prayer: “God, I’m not the person for him. I don’t know what to do.”
During my distress I received an email from one of the staff: “Your client smiled today and I wanted you to know because we know you really love him.”
Two things about that: the staff know that I love and care about people. Also, this isn’t the natural response of somebody this difficult.
I was amazed. He smiled. It wasn’t at me. It wasn’t for me. It wasn’t anything about me. God gave him peace through a whole other channel.
I love how God worked. I was so heartbroken that I hadn’t been able to help this man, and God was like, “No, no, no, it’s okay. Somebody else is going to help; I’m still working. You’re not there, but I’m still working.
This experience reminds me that my presence doesn’t have to be there for people to experience the fullness of God’s presence.
Jim: Your story reminds me of the lyrics of a song… When I hear this song, I always think about Jesus singing it to us. The title is Sunrise in Your Smile, and my favorite line is:
I would wander weary miles
would welcome ridicule my child
to simply see the sunrise in your smile.
— Michael Card
Cortney: I was trying to share this story at the end of a sermon, and I could barely make it through because I envisioned that smile and those blue eyes. I want to see him in God’s kingdom. He’s been through so much abuse and so much pain.
Does his walk to heaven look the same as mine? Absolutely not. But God has him right where he is. I just want to see those eyes and that smile again… And it makes me think how Jesus must feel when we turn toward Him.
Jim Moon is the volunteer coordinator for Minnesota Conference’s tent maker initiative.
