The "C" word
Conjures images of... well, whatever it conjures for you, it's sheer horror for me. Lying back on a cheesy chaise and going on and on about myself, babbling endlessly just to fill the silence because there's someone sitting across from me expecting me to do just that, all the while making little notes about me like "self-involved" and "never shuts up", even though that's what I'm supposed to be doing, right??
Yeah... counselling... (shudder)
So one of my pastors brings up counselling every time I talk to him. And it's the one who will hopefully someday be my boss. He'll be the head pastor at the new church plant we're gearing up for. He wants me to try counselling... (shudder) It drives me nuts on the one hand, because he's just one of those guys that's so real, y'know? I mean, I so completely admire that in him, it's one of the reasons I think he's going to do so well, and why I'm so excited about this church plant--because I want people to be real, and I think it'll happen at the new plant. But anyway... He's one of those people that, when he asks you how you're doing he's looking you straight in the heart, and lying or blowing it off is simply not an option.
I'm a person that has a tendency to hide behind the super sunshiney explosive exterior. I have a natural enthusiasm that, while completely genuine, has a habit of masking anything else about me so that I can hide all the rest of me that isn't quite so happy and zany all the time. He knows that, he's got a real gift for discernment. I told him yesterday that it's really hard to not be real with him. His reply? Typical male cockiness: "Yeah, I know" with a big fat grin. Gotta love him.
So he's finally tiptoed around the subject with me long enough to push me in the pool. He asked me to really think hard about it, and take it to God. And I'm trying to, I really am... But I just have all these mountains of preconceived notions about the whole thing (see opening paragraph). I grew up in a tough, rather old-fashioned, Southern home. I grew up with the idea that counselling is for snivelling babies who can't get their sh*t together, basically. It's for people who are weak. People who can't cope. Poor little rich kids who want someone else to blame.
To an extent, I can obviously see the harshness of such a notion... but to the other extent, soften it up a bit and I believe it's totally true. I mean, look at the history of the early church. They were stoned, beaten, ridiculed, crucified, etc etc etc... and you didn't see them on comfy couches crying their eyes out because daddy wouldn't let them have a dog when they were six which has led to issues with codependence. Right? Who am I to pay someone to listen to me whine about the grave emotional injustices perpetrated on me by little red-headed Luke D. in the 3rd grade?
Ninety dollars a session. That's what it costs to see the counsellor he thinks would be best for me. And he says that if I decide to do it, then don't worry--he'll raise the money. Instantly, my mind flashes to the TWELVE children in Uganda that I could sponsor with what that would cost a month. So I say as much. He brilliantly retorts that the counselling would be temporary---anywhere from a 8 or 12 weeks to a year at most, and that's only if I have some really heavy stuff to work out (little does he know, right? oh wait, you don't know yet either...woops). And he goes on to say that if I want to measure in terms of feeding children, then how many more can God use me to feed if I take the time to heal, and to work through some of these issues that are keeping me from being all He intends for me to be.
Was that not so low??? Ugh... so not fair.
On a side note, is there anyone else out there who thinks like me, with the whole feeding children thing?? Am I just crazy? I actually think about that when considering financial commitments, etc (i.e., "Let's see, I can either sign up for cable, or give two children across the world a chance at life). And sometimes, though admittedly unfairly, I judge others by it (e.g., "Like Britney Spears needs all $52 million--what, she just can't survive on $26 million?? She could save an entire nation!!"). I know it's wrong of me, and I'm working on it, but I just thought I'd take a moment and admit that about myself. Anyhow...
So I'm currently struggling with the "C" word... I'm gonna have to explore this topic more here, I do believe... I have noticed that it helps keep me in check to use the blog as my sounding board, as opposed to my head. That way y'all can keep me in line, since I have a tendency to get off track... Maybe this'll turn out to be therapeutic and then I won't have to go to counselling! That would be really nice. Blogapy... or Therablogging... Counseblog... nah.
I'm not opposed to healing or dealing or whatever... I guess it's just my preconceived ideas about the method... and the flaws I find with the method, all notions aside... I don't know...
I guess I'm just rambling now. I'll shut up.
-Jack
