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Darcy Hansen’s path to becoming a seminary professor was a meandering one, filled with doubt, dark moments, a loss of faith and, finally, the discovery that God can use even the most broken of us for God’s purposes.

There came a point in Darcy Hansen’s life when, despite doing all the things her Christian institutions told her to do, nothing seemed to make sense. Even as she was attending Bible studies, going to church, praying regularly, and making sure her children were involved in youth programs, her family was in crisis mode. Her marriage was strained, and parenting challenges seemed insurmountable. To make matters worse, it seemed like God was silent the entire time.

Reading her Bible didn’t make sense, nor did going to church. All of it was too hard. “I couldn’t sing the praise songs,” she recalls, and she stopped praying because things weren’t getting better. In fact, things got worse.

All the while, unbeknownst to her, God was indeed speaking. She was just having a hard time hearing his still, small voice.

Seeds Planted

Hansen, associate director of doctoral programs at Portland Seminary, moved around a number of times as a child before landing in the Bible Belt of Alabama, which exposed her to a conservative Christian view that tended to emphasize rule following. Bibles stayed on the shelves at home, grace was spoken at dinner, and the family attended church on occasion, generally at Easter and ºìÐÓ¶ÌÊÓƵ. No one at home followed the Jesus she has come to know as an adult, and there was no pressure put on her to develop any faith.

While growing up, a number of life-changing situations occurred. Her parents divorced when she was young, her birth father died when she was in first grade, and her best friend was killed in eighth grade. The grief associated with each of those losses was shoved deep inside. Those pains surfaced again in 2009, when a daughter of a friend was killed.

Hansen couldn’t see it at the time, but God was using those moments to stir her heart to get her where she is now. “All those threads came together to get me here, including the topic of my doctoral research,” she says. The seeds of loss and grief were planted and watered, preparing Hansen for her current vocation as a spiritual mentor.

Her path to attending seminary and joining the seminary in administrative and adjunct faculty roles was a meandering one. Gifted in math and science, she graduated with a bachelor’s degree in biomedical science from the University of South Alabama, leading to a job as a medical technologist, something she didn't find fulfilling. It was obvious a career in that field was out.

What Hansen did encounter in med tech school was Christ, thanks to the testimony of a friend she was living with. A spiritual awakening occurred as she gobbled up the Bible studies and began doing increasingly rigorous study. “I couldn’t get enough,” she recalls.

She became a leader in a parachurch organization for many years and served in her local church as a lay ministry leader. She thought she had life and faith mostly figured out. Still, questions rolled around in her mind, especially with regards to her identity.

Was she meant for something more?

The Reluctant Student

As she began to discover cracks in the foundation of her faith, the “something more” became obvious. Even though she was doing all the right things, she felt adrift in her faith. There were struggles at home, and she had not completely healed from her childhood trauma.

Having 13 years of leadership under her belt as a lay ministry leader, she still felt something was missing, even with all the in-depth studies in the Bible. Something was off.

A friend who was attending Portland Seminary often shared about his class experiences, which intrigued Hansen. On multiple occasions, he encouraged her to register for the Master of Arts in Spiritual Formation program. Each time, she pushed back, asking, “Why would I do that?” After all, she was a stay-at-home mother who taught Sunday school and volunteered in the Bible study program. Why get a degree?

For three years, Hansen fought the idea of going to school. While in Rwanda on a mission trip, she was curious about the idea of training pastors at a college of theology in Kigali. When she heard the requirements to do so entailed having a master’s degree, she remained steadfast in her decision to not enroll in academia.

After returning home, a group of friends offered to pray and discern with her, even though she insisted it was unnecessary. Her friends prayed anyway because that’s what good friends do.

Her Portland Seminary friend asked her again, “Why don’t you explore the master of spiritual formation program?”

 Hansen responded with, “I’m scared.”

“That’s not good enough,” he said.

She knew then she’d have to explore the possibility.

Soon after that conversation, she attended a Portland Seminary open house. She was hoping to walk away with confirmation that she was correct, and that further education was not for her. As she sat with an admissions counselor, she gave a barrage of reasons why she couldn’t attend. And each reason was countered with “that’s not a problem.”

In a last-ditch effort, she asked, “Do I need to know why I’m coming?” 

“Nope,” the admissions counselor replied.

At that point, Hansen realized she was losing this battle. She surrendered to what was clearly God’s will and applied.

‘The Dark Night of the Soul’

Hansen enrolled in the Master of Arts in Spiritual Formation program. After 18 months, she sensed God was inviting her to transfer to the Master of Divinity program. She did so with great trepidation. Within the first three years of school, she entered into what she calls "a dark night of the soul," which then ushered her into another two and half years of what she describes as a wilderness phase. In total, it took her five and half years to complete the program.

Layered upon her faith and identity crises were sustained parenting and marital challenges. She’d hoped things at home would improve because she’d answered God’s call. Although she felt like her world was falling apart, she persevered. She studied diligently, even amidst God’s deafening silence.  

She read her Bible, but only for the purpose of getting good grades. She was no longer motivated to pray, but she committed herself to the spiritual practice of prayer while taking a class on prayer led by Dr. MaryKate Morse.

Between her tendencies for perfectionism and her spirit flailing, Portland Seminary became an anchor in a way she had not imagined. She obtained a better understanding of historical Christianity that her faith community could not and potentially would never be able to provide. Learning about the lives of Christian mystics gave increased context and perspective of what a faith journey looks like.

This soon became an opening for conversations with others who struggled – a pay-it-forward mode, if you will – that Hansen embraced, and still does to this day.

A Reason Behind It All

As new pieces of her faith journey were coming alive, Hansen continued to wrestle with problems at home and an unsettled spirit within her faith community. She knew God was inviting her to teach and walk alongside others in the depths of grief and despair. She hoped to be able to do that within her faith community, but that never materialized. To remain faithful to God’s call, she walked away from a community that she loved, but also one that was unable to accompany her in her questions around identity, vocation, loss and grief.

The question her heart most wanted to address was how communities of faith could do better handling loss and grief. She noticed that when people experience loss, few want to talk about it. After the platitudes and casseroles were delivered, there wasn’t any long-term support, which left many people, including herself, feeling alone.

The question of why people feel isolated within their faith communities after experiencing loss and grief gnawed at her soul. She first posed the question in her Pastoral Ministry class and again in her Reconciliation class. Both professors encouraged her to enter a doctoral program because, as they said, “You have many questions that need to be explored.”

For her doctoral project, she developed a spiritual formation course for the seminary, Discovering Life Through Loss and Grief. As the professor, she guides, listens, and becomes a companion of grief as students ask hard questions and navigate new and different seasons of their faith journey.

“It's an honor to do that with people because you get to be a witness of the ‘holy hard’ of their lives,” she says. “It’s all about listening and giving grief space to breathe. And in community together, we listen for what the Holy Spirit is speaking to them through each of us. It's like a dance.”

In an ironic twist, Hansen is now doing the very reconciliation work she so desperately needed herself – and she has the seminary to thank for making it possible.

Hansen fondly remembers how the faculty at Portland Seminary walked alongside her during a challenging time, helping her discover who she is. She was continually invited to examine herself, her family of origin and the different contexts she existed within, and figure out – with all her strengths and weaknesses – who she has become. Space and freedom were allotted to lean into those darker places because, as Hansen learned, light does shine in the darkness.  

As she wrote paper after paper, she often got a note in the margins: “Hey, if you ever want to come talk, my door is open.” She took advantage of those gentle opportunities as signs of availability, kindness and grace.

 Now, all these years later, she is an administrator and adjunct faculty member at Portland Seminary. She approaches both roles with deep humility. She knows she doesn’t have all the answers, but she is willing to ask questions. “I prefer to figure it out together, in community with my students,” Hansen says. “I know a lot of things, but sometimes what you know doesn’t necessarily translate and transform others; knowledge isn’t always the answer.”

A New Family Dynamic 

Hansen’s journey of self-discovery also made a huge impact on her personal life. Her family, once cracked and broken open, is now steady and true. Relationships have been transformed, healthy boundaries established and maintained, and lines of communication opened. Fear of punishment or condemnation was removed as God’s grace permeated every aspect of their family.

During the difficult seasons, her family adopted a motto from the words of Winston Churchill: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” These words were shared often, especially in the darkest of days. That forward movement – combined with belief and unbelief, and an unwavering hope that things would be better – allowed her and her family to steadfastly step into the flow of God’s grace, into a place where, Hansen says, “We laugh more and we give ourselves space to breathe.”