I’ve had several conversations this holiday that have generally started out with, “AGH Jennifer I need to talk to you about [fill in the blank]!” Sometimes I feel
a bit like a fraud counseling people because I don’t feel like I’ve been successful at much of anything myself. (This is also why I don’t think I can write anything meaningful.) But then again, perhaps the key to wise counsel is the ability to listen well and the willingness to let go of my helpfulness, for after all the other person is the one who must act in the end. My experience certainly informs my listening, but not necessarily the counsel I give, for it’s quite impossible for me to experience EVERYTHING before being able to counsel a person in a specific situation!
I’ve realized today that I am kind of pulling a Moses about the whole counseling/helping professions in general thing. I want a burning bush. I am clinging stubbornly to my demento-Calvinist determination and demanding to know if I am on the right path before I take another step. I want a guarantee that I’m not going to blow my life up again. (And I am reminded again, “Who has control over that, my child?”) And then the excuses start coming: Who am I to help anyone? I haven’t even attained a semblance of healthiness myself. I am too self-absorbed, too stubborn, too unstable, too [fill in the blank] to do this. Which is probably true, but that doesn’t mean God can’t change that rather quickly if I would just get the hell out of His way. And therein lies the rub.