In working with people for over 20 years as a pastor, I have on numerous occasions said to a person in some great struggle, “I think seeing a counselor would be really helpful.” One of the most frequent objections that I hear to this suggestion is some version of this:
“What could a counselor possibly tell me?”
This response reveals a number of profound misunderstandings, but I want to zoom in on just one, born from my own personal experience.
Over the past several months I’ve submitted myself to formal counseling and personal coaching with two different professionals. The focus of this process has been on cultivating a healthier, whole inner-self. To be totally honest, I entered the process mostly from a pragmatic motivation. “If I can work on ____, I’ll be better at ____”. I entered the process the way I might take my truck to the mechanic. I just wanted to “get the thing fixed” and get out of there.
But I was blindsided.
A few carefully crafted questions into my first session and I went from being emotionally neutral, to weepy basket case. Even typing this sentence has conjured up some of those same tears.
Here is my problem (one of them) in short: I don’t navigate two critical emotions very well: Sadness and Anger. I tend to short circuit both of them. The first, so I don’t have to feel lingering grief, disappointment, or shame. The latter because I’m trying to avoid compromising my persona, or my tendency to people-pleasing.
Yet, it goes much deeper.
As I’ve worked further into my own healing and wholeness, the proverbial layers of my inner onion continue to unravel – showing unhealthy aspects of my inner-self that I have been completely oblivious too. As I’ve had to confront a particular disappointment in my professional life, I’ve been confronted with a hidden shadow side of my soul. Here is my honest and true confession:
I’ve frequently sought to heal my own soul, by trying to heal other people’s soul.
Ugh.
When this realization first came to me, I cringed and dropped my head in deep shame. Honestly, I’m still grappling with this shadow side of my soul.
Here is my point: A counselor didn’t reveal this to me. At least didactically.
This self-revelation came to the surface when I confessed out loud, honestly and rawly the sadness and grief I was experiencing around a particular event in my life. When this suppressed grief came to the surface, I was confronted with two questions: “why am I so sad about this?”, and even more telling, “why do I refuse to admit and deal with this particular sadness?”
After a few months of wrestling with these questions a sudden revelation occurred, unlocking an ugly truth about me. But there in that ugly revelation, I was met with grace from Jesus and a friend. Understanding, empathy, and kindness was extended, thereby beginning a deeply redemptive work in my own soul.
And yet, a counselor didn’t tell me any of these things. The soul healing work came when I confessed my shame out loud to someone who knew how to receive and hold my sadness. Ken Shigematsu says in his book, “Now I become Myself”,
“When we take the risk of allowing ourselves to be seen – including the parts of us we feel are hideous and shameful – and the other person says, “I am not going anywhere,” I am not ashamed of you,” or “Welcome to the human race,” deep healing can occur.”
Two keep components are at play here. Honest Confession and Empathetic Listening. A confessor takes a major risk. The listener takes on a major responsibility.
“… deep healing can occur.”
I’m not healed, but I’m on my way. I hope this confession will encourage you to talk with a wise friend, pastor, or even a counselor when you need to.
Grace & Peace,
Brad
bradraby.com 