5 minutes with Raewyn

Please tell us a little about yourself

I'm a Sydney-based chaplain, writer, and speaker who walks alongside people in their most vulnerable moments. As a disaster recovery chaplain and former State Leader for Sports Chaplaincy Australia, I've spent over a decade offering comfort, prayer, and presence when words fall short.

I'm also a wife and mother whose life was forever changed by the loss of my 19-year-old daughter, Amy—a passionate dancer whose courageous faith continues to inspire me daily. Through this sacred intersection of motherhood, ministry, and mourning, I discovered how God transforms heartbreak into a bridge of hope.

My debut book, 21 Gifts: A Sacred Dance through Grief and Healing, was born from this journey. It releases on Friday, 20^th March 2026 with an in-person launch at Pacific Hills Christian School, where Amy used to dance. Here we continue Amy's legacy through the Amy Elsegood Legacy Scholarship at One Maker Academy, supporting young people who share her passion for creativity and faith. You can find out more by heading to raewynelsegood.com.

Do you have a favourite bible passage? If so, what is it and why?

Isaiah 30:15 has become my anchor: "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." When grief shattered my world, I desperately needed strength that I simply didn't have. This verse reminded me that strength doesn't come from striving or pretending I'm okay—it comes from resting in God's presence, even in the silence and sorrow.

Through losing Amy, I've learned that quietness isn't emptiness; it's where we meet God most tenderly. And confidence isn't about having all the answers; it's about trusting that He holds us when our world stops spinning. This passage has taught me that even when I can't take the next step, God's strength is enough to carry me through.

How do you keep your eyes fixed on Jesus?

I start my days with Lectio 365, a devotional app that helps me look at God's Word before the demands of the day crowd in. There's something sacred about meeting Jesus first thing, letting His truth set the rhythm for whatever lies ahead.

Worship music has also become a lifeline. Whether I'm driving, writing, or simply sitting in the quiet, worship reminds me that God is still choreographing beauty even when I can't see it. Music became especially important after Amy's passing—it helped me find words when my own prayers felt stuck.

And nature—particularly the ocean—draws me back to God's presence. There's something about the vastness of the sea that reminds me of God's endless love, and the rhythm of the waves that echoes His faithfulness. In nature, I'm reminded that the same God who holds the tides holds my broken heart.

What would you like the next generation of Christian women to know?

Two things: vulnerability and boundaries.

Vulnerability isn't weakness—it's the doorway where God's light pours through the cracks. I spent too many years pretending I was okay, performing strength for everyone around me. But true healing began when I stopped pretending and started sharing my truth. The next generation needs to know that being honest about our struggles doesn't diminish our faith; it reveals it.

And boundaries are holy. As Christian women, we often believe that saying yes to everything is godly service, but it's actually the path to burnout and self-destruction. I've learned that protecting your peace, honoring your limits, and making space for rest isn't selfish—it's good stewardship of the body, mind, and spirit God has entrusted to you. You can't pour from an empty cup, and you can't dance with a broken spirit.

What's one thing that you love about your local church?

My local church has always played a part in leading each of our family members back to Jesus. That's no small thing. Whether it was through seasons of doubt, distance, or heartbreak, our church community has been a steady presence—offering grace, truth, and unconditional love.

After losing Amy, it was our church family who sat with us in the silence, who prayed when we couldn't find words, and who reminded us that we weren't alone. They didn't try to fix our pain; they simply showed up. That kind of faithful presence is the body of Christ at its best, and I'm forever grateful.

What did you learn about God at a time in your life you found hard?

Through the loss of my daughter Amy, I learned that God is omnipresent—everywhere and timeless. Even in my deepest grief, when it felt like God was distant or silent, He was there. Not just with me, but in the past, present, and future all at once.

I learned that God was with Amy in her final moments, He was with me in my darkest nights, and He's with both of us now in a way that transcends time and death. Love doesn't end at goodbye; it simply changes form. God's presence isn't limited by our circumstances or our pain—He meets us in the ache, holds us in the silence, and reminds us that nothing can separate us from His love.

What are you passionate about?

I'm passionate about helping people find joy within their hard places. Not a shallow happiness that ignores pain, but a deep, sacred joy that can coexist with sorrow—the kind that rises when we discover God's presence right in the middle of our mourning.

Through my chaplaincy work and my writing, I want people to know that grief doesn't silence faith; it reveals it. That healing doesn't require forgetting, but learning to dance with what remains. That beauty can bloom even in the darkest soil.

I'm also passionate about continuing Amy's legacy—ensuring that her courage, her faith, and her light continue to inspire others long after her dance on earth has ended.

What do you enjoy doing when you rest?

I love the ocean tickling my toes. There's something about standing at the edge of the water, feeling the waves wash over my feet, that grounds me and reminds me I'm alive. The ocean has become a sacred space for me—a place where I can breathe, remember, and reconnect with God's vastness.

And reading. Getting lost in a good book is one of my favourite forms of rest. Whether it's fiction that transports me somewhere else or memoirs that remind me I'm not alone in my journey, reading nourishes my soul and gives my heart permission to pause.