What it's like to be a Counselor, Part One

So what exactly is it like to be a counselor? Do you ever get tired of hearing people talk about their problems? Do you worry about your clients when you leave work? What's the difference between a christian counselor and a regular counselor?

When I am out in my non-work life and friends, or even people I barely know, find out what I do in my work life, I get questions like these a lot. I am always careful in my answers, but have often thought it would be good to explain some of what I do as a counselor, in case as I suspect, the questions might be a way of deciding if going to a counselor is something a person can feel comfortable doing. This will be a two part blog so as not be too lengthy but get to all the questions. Here is my disclaimer: my experience as a counselor is limited to working in a christian counseling center with a brilliant clinical director, a compassionate boss and gifted, caring coworkers. I have no idea how it might feel to be in private practice or work in an environment where you are judged and criticized or overworked. There are many, many variables that could alter the way any one therapist or counselor would answer these questions. This is my attempt to explain my experience and perhaps show why counseling is a wonderful avenue for receiving help.

So, what is it like to be a counselor? Well first, I'll tell you my official title: Licensed Pastoral Counselor and Temperament Therapist. (fancy!) It means I am first and foremost in the ministry of counseling and I view my responsibility to my clients as one of leading them toward healing by embracing God's truth in their lives. It also means I can tell you why you don't like crowds, love hugs, hate being told what to do, enjoy crossing things off a list or wait to be invited before you join a group- God made you that way!  (explaining temperament, often called personality, is one of my favorite things to do) I suppose the best word I can use to explain what being a counselor is like is sacred. People invite me into their deepest pain, fear, shame, dreams and hopes. I get to walk with them through dark valleys and remind them they will come out on the other side. I rejoice with them when they finally realize, often for the very first time, God really does love them. I feel truly honored to be part of my clients' journeys. Of course in dealing with broken people there are hard moments. Hard because I am just a safe person on the outside in a sense. I have no control over the choices my clients make, or don't. No control over the other people in their lives who may be wrecking havoc. And ultimately I am reminded that they are in God's hands and I know His purpose is to love them and expose their need for Him. So when my clients lives go from hard to harder, I pray for them. Sometimes with them if they are willing.

In a typical day I see between 6-8 clients. I take notes to keep it all straight. I return emails. And I depend on God to guide each session. I aim to be three things to my clients: compassionate, consistent and confrontative. (my brilliant clinical director taught me that!) I do not succeed in these every session, every day- but it's my goal. It helps that I have something called peer supervision. This is where we allow a group of other therapists to help us stay on track as a counselor. It keeps me honest about where I need to have better boundaries, when I need to choose a different approach with a client who is struggling and on a personal level, make sure I am doing okay so I can do my job. This is a common practice in this industry and also peer supervision is a wonderful biblical concept, as Proverbs says "He who walks with the wise, become wise" and "The way of a fool seems right to him, but the wises listen to advice." (Proverbs 13:20 and 12:15) If you were in private practice you would have to find other therapists to form a peer group. In my counseling center, it is a monthly group we simply attend as a part of our policy.

The most common question I get asked "Is it hard to listen to people talk about their problems all day?" is easy to answer. No. It's really not. In fact, I like it. Because as they open up and talk about their problems we work on goals to help them get through them. Not all problems can "go away" but we can set goals about learning to cope and establishing healthy community and growing in their faith. I am so thankful people are brave enough to open up and tell me their problems and hurts. That's where healing begins. You gotta get all that stuff in the light so you can really look at it. I'm not saying however that sometimes what people share isn't hard to hear. I care deeply about my clients pain, but I don't carry it myself. The way I have learned not to worry about clients outside of work is to remind myself God is in control of their life and to pray for them. Plus, I just accept that people are where they are. "Everybody gets to pick" is a truth I have to come believe- it's okay for people to not do it all "right" and I am not responsible for anyone's life but my own. This keeps me from worrying for the most part, and while I'm not perfect at that boundary, it gets easier the longer I am counseling.

Just for fun, here's a tour through my office. Remember, when working for a non-profit, you are thankful for free, cheap and donated!

Welcome to my office! Notice the high tech flyer for the Codependency Group created by yours truly.

My somewhat messy desk with my non-working phone and family photos

My clients view from their seats- a favorite Bible story often called The Emmaus Road. I love it for counseling because often we are wondering where God is in our life, only to discover He's been walking with us all along.

My view from my chair.

My favorite recovery scripture and because counseling can be hard work, I always have Jolly Ranchers!

In sickness and in health.....

It's been a tough month for me. I have not been well. I have been well enough, to you know, keep doing all the mom things and wife things and work things, but sick enough to feel misreable while doing them. At first I thought I had a virus, but then it kept going. Then I went to the doctor and we thought it might be something really difficult and overwhelming. But so far none of those possibilities have played out. So we're still in the middle of trying to figure out what exactly is interfering with my normal good health, health I will add that I have take for granted, but will not anymore. But in the midst of all this "not knowing what's wrong" misery, there has been some sweetness and humor and a chance to see God's goodness to me.

My favorite thing has been the support, concern and love that I have experienced over the past two weeks as I have let people know to be praying. So many precious texts of encouragement, facebook messages with scripture I needed to hear, hugs and "check in's"......I realize how beautiful community is! It has been a blessing to see that not only do I have a very supportive physical family, I have my City Church and Branches family too. So if you are part of those groups, thank you for praying and loving me- it has blessed me so much!

Another sweet thing has been how my kids have been so concerned about their mama. You know, of course, your kids love you. But seeing their reactions to me not being well has let me know they have a genuine concern for me, which you don't always get a chance to see when you're operating normally.

The funniest moment was three nights ago. I woke up in the most misery I have ever felt. Ever. Every bone in my face hurt, my cheek was swollen from a hideous canker sore, I could not breath at all, my mouth was like a bowl of cotton, I was coughing, there was a random pain in my chest every time I coughed- you get the picture. It was not good. Oh, and the arm they had drawn blood from the day before was weirdly numb and kind of just hanging to my side. So at 2am I came staggering into the living room and my husband (who is sometimes up that late writing) looked up at me and tried hard not to laugh because he knew I really felt awful, but had a hard time holding it in.  (He told me later I looked like a zombie from The Walking Dead. I know it was true becaue I had caught a glimps of myself in the mirror on the way out of the bedroom and even in my state of misery I thought "whoa. that look needs some help." but didn't care enough to do anything about it.)  He shuffled me back to bed and brought  me some water, some medicine and the best thing EVER if you find yourself in that state of misery- Vicks Vapor Rub. I had forgotten about that stuff, and normally don't even get sick enough to consider it, but sweet nectar of life, it was heavenly. He slathered my face and neck and chest down with it, tucked me in and got in bed himself.  As we lay there and he began the breathing that lets me know he's fallen asleep, I thought, "this is the beautiful part of marriage. I have quite possibly never looked or felt this awful. I'm about as much fun as root canal to be around. I have no ability to even care about his needs right now. Yet I am absolutely certain he loves me all the same."

my night stand while sick- never have I been so thankful for Vapor Rub!

Titus Two 4 U - Learning to Follow

I did not grow up in an era where couples dancing involved memorizing steps and patterns. Our dances did not have names. I always thought the formal dances such as the waltz, or foxtrot, seemed more romantic than the slow-dancing we did in my high school gym, basically consisting of hugging while swaying and occasionally shuffling feet. And do not get me started on dirty dancing, which, while being a romantic and entertaining movie ("Nobody puts Baby in a corner!") was really just "messing around" set to music. No, there was a generation before me that made dancing look fun, and beautiful and seamless.

I think one inclination we lost in both dancing and life was the willingness for a woman to follow a man's lead. About two months ago I was getting really excited about a wonderful ministry in my city. It is a prison ministry for women, with the goal of helping them to transition into life outside jail in a healthy and godly way. It's basically about helping them encounter God through lots of his people reaching out and teaching and serving. Love, love, love it! And, as all good extroverted, excitable types like me do, I called the founder of the ministry to chat about how I could help connect others to them, and how I could be involved myself. The wonderful woman who began the ministry graciously took an hour and poured her heart out about her passion for what God has called her to do. It was inspirational, in a real non-cheesy way. So I left thinking about what role I was going to take, called my husband to tell him of my excitement when he promptly burst my bubble. 

"Um I don't think this is a good time for you to get involved so heavily. You have a lot on your plate and you are tired all the time. I usually support your ideas, but I just don't feel good about this." 

Total joy kill . And I was hurt and annoyed and starting down the path of self-righteousness, when God reminded me I was to follow this man's lead. It was kind of a quiet reminder- a thought that perhaps my repsonse wa not reflecting a wife with a submissive or willing spirit. More joy kill. Not only do I NOT get to be all excited about my fun new ministry opportunity, I don't even get to be mad at my husband for pouring water all over it. (I may or may not have mentioned something along those lines via text before sensing the nudge of God to simmer down and listen to my husband. Sigh- I'm working on not firing off snarky texts anymore.)

So, I will admit this was begrudging, but I decided to email the founder and let her know I'd need to wait for a time to get involved. Fast forward two months. Low and behold my entire body begins to lose a grip on health. I'm noticing fatigue getting higher, starting to run a pretty consistent fever and feeling generally bad. At the same time, Little Miss Fluff and Sparkle brings home two C's on progress report and it becomes clear she needs more attention and structure in homework time. Suddenly, the thought of another weekly committment to a brand new role doesn't look like such a good idea. In fact, it sounds totally overwhelming. I am heading to doctor appointments, work and bed until I can recover. I am cancelling fun plans, busyness and housework just to get through the week. 

Somehow, in God's wonderful plan He set things up to work in a truly good way. My husband is my protection, often and mostly it seems, from myself. I am ever so thankful God reminded me to listen. I am humbled by how my attitude was so crabby with him instead of trusting that he did, in fact, have my best interest at heart and could offer some wisdom where I was blinded by excitement. It's not a common or popular message in our world to allow yourself to be led by a man. But in marriage, God set up a way to be protected, cherished and served, which sometimes looks like my man doing the dishes for me. And sometimes it looks like him telling me to slow down, hold back or stop. I realize not every husband embraces that role and not every marriage is loving. But I also know when both people live out the roles God gave them, it's pretty amazing.

Embracing Age

In my younger and sillier years, I wanted to be older so I would have credibility. I felt called to help others, especially women, but didn't think anyone would feel I had anything to say. I was only in my 20's, looked like a teenager, but was a young mom in a dysfunctional marriage and truth be told, I really didn't know what I didn't know. As I aged some and finally learned through life experiences that age doesn't equal wisdom, I quit worrying quite so much about looking credible and began wondering if I was credible. Did I even have anything to offer others? My picture perfect life had fallen apart. I was a divorced, single mom of two boys. How could I help anyone else, anyway?

I realized it wasn't what I had to offer others that mattered, eventually. It was God who qualified me to begin ministering to women, and it all happened quite naturally. One woman at a time, God began to use His work in my life to help others understand His purpose and love for them. I have found that one of the hardest parts of working with women is helping them deal with the tendency to earn love and approval. I know that struggle well, and God has had lots of work to do, removing idols from my heart. I have found also, that the more I share my weakness, lack of faith, sin and struggles- the more credible I become. Mainly because in exposing the real me, God clearly gets the glory for who I am today. It's been the most freeing part of my spiritual journey- letting go of the image I wanted to project and just being myself. Accepted by God, I no longer have to freak out if I suspect someone else doesn't quite approve. I know I am loved because of who God is, not who I am (or am not) and the older I get the more I am confident in that love. So much so, that lately I do not mind so much the visible signs of age that are appearing. Wrinkles around my eyes, obstinate gray hairs to be colored, gravity taking hold. No doubt about it- I do not look like that 20 year old girl anymore, but I am okay with it.

39 and loving it! Trust me girls, it just keeps getting better!

Because Daddy's Can't Have All the Fun!

My super cute acomplice in our secret mission to get ice cream!

In a normal week, my life is fairly routine. Partially, because as previously established, I like being a hamster on a wheel. Partially because being a mom of three kids requires some structure to make sure they all have clean underware, lunches for school and rides to and from all activities. And also, it seems like the role of mom is keeping the household running smoothly. Mostly evverything we do in the Russell family has some kind of plan: dinners? Meal plan. Dirty house? Chore plan. Sassy pants kids? Discipline plan.

So in general, mom takes the role of planner. And in our house, dad takes the role of "big softy". Sure the kids have a bedtime, but, wee'll let them stay up tonight because we're having so much fun. Sure, you planned for us to eat leftovers, but, we're going to get Taco Bell instead. (This is not to say dad takes the role of softy about sassy pants kids, however. In fact, in our house, dad takes the role of drill seargant if disrespect/defiance are involved) So over the years of day in day out mom and dad living in their respective roles, the kids come to know what to expect. Which dear friends, is where a wonderful ooportunity lies. Every so often, you need to startle your kids with something silly/spontaneous/unexpected. I have come to call these secret missions. My favorite secret missions involve creating a mess, which historically I never sanction, or getting junk food late at night, which is equally unusual as I am the Health Patrol. If you combine the two, all kinds of hilarity ensues! When my kids were much younger, the unexpected twists were geared toward their ages and me not losing my mind the next morning. Playing in the rain, eating popcorn for dinner while building the world's largest lincoln log village on the dining room table, going out after bathtime in our jammies to get an ice cream cone: fun but not anything that would create the world's crankiest kids in the morning. As the kids have aged, my favorite secret missions still remain breaking the rules on food and messes. And let me tell you, nine year old girls, LOVE a good secret mission. So last night, when Emma told me she was craving some ice cream, I seized the moment. She and I were going to play a little Chutes and Ladders downstairs by ourselves. All the boys were otherwise occupied. So I looked at her and said, "Come on sister! This is the perfect time for a run to Dairy Queen for a Peanut Buster Parfait!" It was 9:30 and she was in her jammies, so we bundled her in one of my zip ups and snuck out of the house. Ice cream tastes better when there is a level of covertness involved, I assure you.