Hopelessness and Hope

“Hopelessness is the doorway to hope.” I’ve read that quote from Paul David Tripp twice in the past 24 hours. At face value, it seems rather harsh. Who wants to promote hopelessness as a way to hope? And yet the quote really resonates with me, both on personal and a professional level.

There was a time in my life when I was very hopeless and literally had no aspirations for the future. I remember doing an art therapy project (remember my post about going to therapy?) where I drew my feelings on a continuum and shaded it. I had literally no hope and all of life seemed blase and lacking in meaning. But that hopelessness was what led my parents to seek help for me, bringing both professionals and lay people into my life to restore my health and hope. It was one of the darkest seasons of my life, but going through that hopelessness helped make me who I am today.

On a professional level, I often wonder if I am making any difference. It’s not my job to tell people what to do, or even to demand that they find hope, but to sit with them at their darkest and support them if and when they want to crawl towards the light. It’s a high and hard calling, and walking in it often hurts. But if hope is the doorway to hopelessness, than maybe what I’m doing does matter. I’m being given the privilege to sit with people at their lowest, but when at their lowest, they are at the cusp of finding hope. How amazing is that?

I don’t really have a conclusion to this post, but maybe rather an encouragement to those reading. If you’re feeling hopeless, maybe you’re almost to hope. (If you are feeling suicidal at all, please reach out for help to the National Suicide Prevention Helpline at 1-800-273-8255.) You’re realizing all the things that don’t work and being able to recognize and reach for what really matters. Ultimately, I pray that you find Jesus and salvation in Him, because He is the only way to freedom from hopelessness and eternal hope forever.

I've Been In Your Chair.

I've been in your chair. I've been in that place of darkness and depth and desperation (and sometimes I still find myself there). I've needed insight and help and encouragement and guidance and motivation. And people were there for me.

I've had several kids ask me why I do what I do over the past few years. Quite simply, I've been there. I went through a long period of darkness in my early teen years, and even into college and my early adulthood. (And I'm not saying I don't have dark days now. I do.) But I was in a period of life where I was incredibly self destructive, where I didn't believe anyone loved me, where all I saw was darkness, and I needed help. I needed professional help.

I went to a variety of professionals (both physical and mental practitioners) during that time. Some were helpful. Some were not. But the helpful ones, the counselors who propelled me towards the Lord and towards freedom were the ones that gave me information that made a difference. They were the ones who walked with me through hard times, who didn't tell me it was going to be okay, but who held hope for me that one day my life would be better. And praise the Lord, it is. Some of those people know where I am today. Some don't. But those who knew me then and know me now can testify that I am a different person.

As a counselor, I'm not saying I'm beyond counseling. I've been back to counseling several times since my intensive days, and I'm not against going again. As a Christian, I'm not saying that prayer and accountability and lay person encouragement don't make a difference, either. They do. But sometimes you just need professional help. You need an outside observer, an impartial party, someone you can yell at, and be angry at, and not have to be in an everyday relationship with. Someone who will help you process the hard things. Someone who can give you insight and perspective and guidance. Some days, I'm honored to be in that chair.

I've been in your chair. That's how I got to my chair. By God's grace, I'm a counselor. And if I'm your counselor, I'm honored to hold hope for you, because others once held hope for me. And by the Holy Spirit's power, I'll keep holding hope for you, and for a better world until Christ returns and makes all things new.

We're Always Getting There.

Three years ago. Three years ago today, I took this picture of this important piece of paper lying on the worn dashmat of my 1998 Saturn. After five years of graduate school and months and months of study, I had finally passed the National Counseling Exam. It was something I never thought I could do, or at least doubted I could do without God's strength and guidance and wisdom. And I'd done it. Praise Him!

I thought that passing that counseling exam would lead me to my preferred profession. But in reality, I'd already taken another job, and it wasn't counseling. I worked at that job for a year, and then went back to my core desire to help others and took a job in behavioral health. I thought that job would be something different than it was, or is, because I'm still at that job. And I like my job. I'm thankful for my job. But it definitely isn't the one I expected to have when I walked across the stage with my graduate degree in marriage and family therapy in 2015.

Life isn't what we think it is. Somehow, we think we'll someday arrive, but we don't. We don't ever quite find our perfect job. We don't ever quite reach our financial goals. We don't ever quite figure out who or what or where we want to be when we "grow up." My husband and I were just having that conversation with teens at our church, and we're both in our thirties.

No. We never quite arrive. We're always getting there. But I think that's God's way of reminding us that He's in control, that He's God, that we always need to be humble and willing to grow. Because growth is part of the journey, and in this life, the journey isn't over until we see Jesus. As believers in Christ, we should always be working toward getting there.

"Good Enough" and the Golden Rule

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I always took this verse to mean that I needed to serve others more than myself. In my younger days, I would sometimes take it to an extreme of being a martyr or an ascetic. I sometimes thought I should be less feeling and more of a doormat for people.

As I've grown in my faith and in my work as a counselor, however, I've realized that the way I feel about myself affects how I treat others. When I feel less than, not good enough, or down, I am less likely to see the needs of others. I feel less love in my heart. I am more irritable and easily angered. I am susceptible to anxiety. I perceive the actions of others toward me as more negative. I tend to be unforgiving and bitter.

Conversely, when I know who I am in Christ, when I accept my identity as a beloved child of God for whom Christ died, I have more love in my heart for others. I forgive more easily. I am happier and more able to spread joy. I can serve better.

I'm not promoting self-aggrandizing pride or narcissism or egoism, but I am challenging myself to consider where I'm at when I don't like how I'm interacting with others. Often, I need to examine my heart to see what's internally wrong and resulting in externally wrong actions. I need to ask Christ to ground my heart and cleanse me of my sin. I need to ask for Holy Spirit power to forgive myself. I need to feel God's love so I can give it to others.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." 

For me, that means treating myself with the care that Christ does, so that I can then go out into the world and treat others as close to how Christ would treat them as I can. I'm a perfectionist, but certainly not perfect, after all. This is why the way I treat myself needs to be grounded in my God-given identity, not in how "good enough" I feel on any given day.

I Don't Want to BE the Best, Just DO My Best.

Back in December, I read a post in The Joy Squad Facebook group about finding joy in work. I didn't think too much of it. Sure, I was tired and frustrated about how much I was working, but I'm an achiever, and honestly, I took some pride in how much I was working and how efficient I was being. And then the flu (or a flu-like virus) hit. I ached, ran a fever, had a terrible runny nose, and went to the doctor twice. I was out of work for a almost a week (but thankfully some of the days fell on scheduled vacation/holidays, so I only had to take two days off). I've been lacking in energy since, and thinking more about one particular comment on that post.

A lot of women replied to the post last December, but one response stuck out to me.  That woman wrote, "Now I am back at a corporate job and want nothing more than to break the culture of martyrdom and the glorification of busyness." Those words have resonated with me as I've returned to work. In the past, I've found identity in matryrdom and busyness, but now I find myself thinking differently. I find myself thinking, "I want to do my job and go home" instead of, "What's the most I can work today?" I've been thinking, "I want to meet my efficiency goals," rather than, "I want to exceed my goals this week." I've been thinking about how I want to identify myself as a human, and not as a workaholic.

My mom picks Bible verses to pray for us each year, and for me this year, she chose 1 Peter 4:10. It reads, "Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms"  (New International Version). This verse really applies to my current outlook on work. I want to do my job and I want to do a good job, because that is what God has called me to do. Sure, I feel a little guilty when I come home early and don't get into overtime, but overtime is not my best work. My best work is when I allow God to fill me up, pour out, and then leave work and go home and get refilled.

Overtime is a part of my job, to be sure, but I want to stop pursuing it. I want to stop looking at our efficiency reports each week and feeling guilty because I'm not leading the pack. Constantly trying to BE the best is exhausting, and at some point will lead to me DOING work that is less than my best. So me new motto is to stop trying to BE the best and start DOING my best. May God give me strength.

I'm linking up with Amanda at Running with Spoons for this Thinking Out Loud post.