Much of this life that we’re now living – where we live and the way we do family and the way we handle our grief and how we live with hope – would not be possible if it weren’t for counseling.
Counseling is tough stuff. It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s not for the selfishly minded. It’s not for know-it-alls. Counseling is for folks who are broken and looking for help. And we were so devastatingly broken when we began professional counseling in 2014. Prior to Heidi’s death, we had participated in informal counseling with the teaching elder of our church and his wife; and we’d sought out consistent counseling from a couple older than ourselves during our dating years. But losing Heidi threw us onto the couch of a professional counselor who had experience as a cop in domestic violence and trauma, who had been through seminary, who is a trained clinical marital and family counselor. We needed counseling desperately, and this particular counselor was the man for the job, as it were.
We’ve learned more about ourselves than we would’ve thought reasonable- scraping past the facade and seeing how ugly we are deep down, but at the same time being built up in grace and truth and love and wisdom. A counselor should be a coach, therapist, doctor, teacher, judge, and officer all rolled up into one. This guy has had it all for us- he’s held nothing back but he’s done it in an encouraging, motivating, authentic way.
We’re indebted to him. Counseling has changed us. As difficult as it is to say- we’re better for having been broken.
-BBMIn the hands of the potter,