Dr. Joshua Sievers
The first time anyone publicly referred to me aloud as Dr. Joshua Sievers in Canada was by Rev. Dr. Aaron Kenny, Lead Pastor at Bridgewater Baptist, on September 19 at his church.
He said it not with hesitation, but with certainty — explaining I was visiting. My plan to sneak into his Baptist church unannounced - and see him and his wife Erica quietly after service, thwarted by the movement of the Holy Spirit. I was late to church after a rehearsal at Mahone Bay Baptist (UBCMB). Aaron was naming something true about me, and little did I know that in the coming weeks I would be referred to as Dr. Josh, Dr. Joshua Michael-Sievers, Dr. Sievers, or Dr. Joshua both on the East Coast and the West Coast.
The painting “The Valley of the Shadow”. Photo provided by the Artist Michal Tkachenko.
For the first time since moving back to Canada in 2022, I felt seen for who I was and the titles I held. Titles have never meant much to me; we didn’t hear the titles of Prophet, Doctor, Reverend, etc., in the Bible. When I practiced in Germany, I didn’t have my patients use my titles or even my last name. I was just Josh or Joshua, the reasoning behind that is I wanted to meet my patients where they felt comfortable and at the same level.
The irony of working in medicine is this: knowing what should happen does not guarantee it will. After my car accident in July, I knew what proper concussion triage should involve. I knew what assessments were necessary. I knew what red flags should have been taken seriously. However, no one seemed to listen or care, and help me find a route to complete restoral in my body and soul.
After arriving in Vancouver, I continued to struggle with persistent migraines, dizziness, nausea, and balance disturbances. I continue to have cognitive slowing, memory issues, mental fog, and speech issues in both German and English. Through self-management with Ayurvedic herbs and prescriptions from Germany, I am able to deal with sleep disruption. Neurologically, my left side of the body often has numbness, coldness, and tingling triggered by driving, rucking, and sometimes flute performance.
None of this surprises me; my body has been telling the story for months.
But reading it in the formal language of members of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in Canada brings a strange mixture of validation and grief.
December started with me meeting a fantastic neurosurgeon who is on faculty at UBC and works at Surrey Memorial Hospital. She restored my hope in the high standard I expect of those who work in medicine.
Before our consult, she had read my resume and researched what I did in many arenas of my life. I finally felt seen and heard. We discussed adding a few supplements for migraines and the possibility of vision therapy for binocular dysfunction and dry eyes.
She said her role is to support me in finding a pathway to full restoral. She agreed with my self-management plan to seek some mental health support to help me achieve full restoral and renewal in body and mind.
I decided to seek a neuropsychological assessment from Dr. Cirelle Rosenblatt, one of the few neurological psychologists in Canada to deal with the emotional and psychological toll this accident has taken.
The road to recovery is not quick. None of this is simple. However, my health care team is honest — a map of where I am, and where the next steps lead.
Since July 23, I have borne the emotional cost of being a clinician who is not listened to as a patient. There were moments after the accident when my concerns were dismissed, when assessments were incomplete, when I felt as though my training — my knowing — existed in a sealed room no one had access to.
This is a particular kind of loneliness known to many in medicine. We recognize pathology in others, but become invisible in our own injury. It is here that I found myself returning again and again to Psalm 23. Not as a comforting cliché, but as lived truth.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow…”
“…you are with me.”
Psalm 23 does not promise that people will listen. It does not promise that systems will recognize what is needed. It promises something else entirely:
A Shepherd who hears what others overlook.
A Guide who does not rush the valley but walks it beside you.
A Defender who does not minimize the wound.
A Healer who restores the soul before the body is fully restored.
To speak openly now as a Psychosomatischer Mediziner is an act of truth-telling.
Not arrogance. Not self-importance. But clarity.
The author's new logo and business card, where he uses the title "Dr" for the first time outside Germany.
It is a way of reclaiming a part of myself that I allowed to go quiet in a country where it did not fit neatly. It is a way of saying: I know who I am, even when others do not.
Perhaps this is what it means to walk honestly through the valley:
Not pretending the shadows are light, but speaking the truth with love —
and letting God be the One who listens when others do not.
I do not know how long this particular valley will last — medically, vocationally, or personally.
But I do know this: Being unheard by people is not the same as being unheard by my Father in Heaven. Being unseen in systems that have failed and are broken, does not mean being failed by my Lord and Shepherd: Jesus Christ.
Psalm 23 is not the promise of escape. It is the promise of companionship and it takes me back to my favorite verse in regard to the Covenant of Marriage: Genesis 2:18. I am learning, slowly and in a state of brokenness, that this is enough for now.
I am also learning to accept the calling of being a Pastor, without the title of Reverend, without being ordained by CBAC or CBWC or another denomination or association. Rather I show up, and use the gifts the Lord blessed me with and still has use of on his earthly realm. I am also realizing thanks to friends like Rev. Dr. Kenny, that I need to use my gifts and training in Canada. My Father in Heaven still has some great purpose for my life, that is why on July 26th, I did not enter the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I only entered the Valley of the Shadow.
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