No Agenda

One warm afternoon, Emilie Thomas and I met at a quaint coffee shop in town. We carried our lattes outside and sat at a bistro table beneath a lamppost. One of the many things I respect about Emilie is that, in both her profession and daily life, she carries a deep desire to help others. As a local therapist, she describes her mission as “service without an agenda.” When opportunities arise, she offers clarity and wisdom without pressure or expectation. In doing so, she meets people where they are, listens with intention, and helps them recognize who they hope to become.

As I consider the courage it takes to step into a therapist’s office, I am reminded of the four royal titles Isaiah speaks of in describing an expected king: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Christians hear these four royal titles and understand them as names for Christ, pointing to the Messiah foretold by Isaiah. Looking closely at the Hebrew for the title Wonderful Counselor, we hear the word yo’eitz meaning “counselor” and pe-le meaning “wonder.” Together, the words reveal a new version of the royal title for me: Counselor of Wonders.

Our Counselor of Wonders surprises us with his presence. Whether we catch a glimpse of his glory while seated in a church pew early on a Sunday morning or encounter him while resting on a park bench, we begin to realize that it is up to us to notice his abiding presence. Regardless of place, mood, or circumstance, he is always near. He appears in our most significant wins, and, often, we come to know him best in our deepest losses.

One fall season, I became aware of several people who were experiencing the heartbreak of divorce alone. Although I could have simply offered a listening presence, I sensed God calling me to do more. The individuals needed a place of support and others to walk alongside them. Since leading a divorce support group was new to me, I asked Emilie to co-lead, and she graciously agreed. Serving alongside her was an honor and allowed me to witness her compassionate wisdom as she extended much-needed care to a small group of hurting people.

The group gathered for six weeks in a room at the church that felt like a living room with its pale green carpet, couch, and wingback chairs. All the participants were women, and most did not attend our church. There is something sacred about entrusting your saddest stories to strangers on a Wednesday night, knowing you will not have to greet them with a polite smile on Sunday morning.

After the small group had met several times, church member Andy Shifflett walked into my office and asked if I had a minute to talk. He sat down in the chair across from me, and with a slumped posture, poured out his thoughts about how deeply he felt for the women attending the evening sessions. He remembered walking a similar path when he was a young man and recalled it as one of the hardest years of his life. After sharing aspects of his own divorce, he said, “But it gets better. I hope they know it gets better.”

Then I asked, “Andy, would you be willing to share your story one night with the women? Your words would mean so much to them, especially coming from you rather than from me.”

He hesitated and shifted a bit in his chair. As he considered the offer, I mentioned that Emilie had a scheduling conflict and would be unavailable to attend one of the upcoming sessions. His words might be exactly what God had in store for that night. He reluctantly agreed and went home to mark the date on his calendar.

Most people in our community know Mr. Shifflett for his forty years of teaching history in our local high school and community college, and for his several decades as the chairperson of a polling site held in our church’s social hall. Many admire his passion for history and his knowledge of our government. My oldest daughter even asked his advice on an amendment before she voted in her first election. Anyone who has had the privilege of spending time with Andy can tell his love for history is matched only by his deep compassion for others.

Andy and his wife, Andi, are a faithful couple whose care toward others often goes unnoticed because it happens in the background of life. While Andy spent decades tending the church property, Andi has led and continues to lead a weekly free clothing ministry in the community. She also ensures that our church’s Blessing Box is always well stocked for neighbors in need. Andy and Andi are humble servants whose everyday care blesses our church and community more than words can express. Often, their names appear in my prayers of thanksgiving, along with a nod of gratitude to God that Andy’s better half finally came along.

I will never forget the night Andy sat among the women, sharing one of the hardest lessons of his life. Speaking in a soft, confident voice, he began by using his notes, but by the end, he was telling his story while looking each of them in the eye. Although I had never been a student in one of Andy’s classrooms, I became one that night. I listened to his compelling story once more and sensed the room fill with a genuine kindness and wisdom that comes only from facing life’s most difficult lessons and learning from them.

Andy offered the women a true gift that night: a compassionate love many of them had forgotten, especially from a man. His words did not change their reality; divorce is complex, and the pain is real. Nevertheless, his gentle words and sincere spirit helped the women know they were not alone and reminded them to cling to the hope that better days were surely ahead.

That night, with that small group, reminded me that therapy can look like an evening encounter in a comfy church space with an exceptional human being, or like time spent on a couch in a trained professional’s office. In both places, I have personally witnessed how the Counselor of Wonders shows up and all feel healing love.

Unfortunately, therapy still carries a social stigma, but anyone who has visited a counselor’s office can tell you how life-giving that space can be. Seeking counseling takes humility and vulnerability on the part of the individual. It begins with noticing that something is wrong and admitting that the struggle is bigger than what can be managed alone through books, internet searches, or advice from loved ones.

In one-on-one sessions, a therapist offers tools to navigate transitions and seasons of hardship. People may be invited to go deeper into their own hearts than they have ever dared to go before, and with gentle guidance and trained wisdom, they can begin to see a path where before there was only fog. A counselor’s neutral perspective lifts individuals above the immediate weight of chaotic circumstances, helping them catch glimpses of a bigger, and, eventually better, picture ahead.

Sometimes therapy lasts only for a season. Other times it continues for a year or more. I am deeply grateful for the therapists and counselors in our community who offer tender care in times of great need.

The work of therapy is not so different from the work of mission. Both begin with the courage to show up just as we are and the willingness to be met without expectation. When a counselor offers presence without judgment, healing begins to unfold. In the same way, Christ meets us with a love that is not earned and a grace that asks nothing in return. This is the mission we are called to live, a mission with no agenda at all.

Therapy Reflection

• What are your initial thoughts on therapy?

• Have you or someone you know seen a therapist? If so, what were some of the challenges and positive outcomes of that experience?

• Do you have a list of counselors in your community to reach out to when needed, either for yourself or for a friend? Along the same lines, are there support groups in your area, such as DivorceCare, GriefShare, or respite groups?

If you are going through a transition or a difficult season of life, therapy can help. Often during these seasons, we carry emotions such as worry, grief, or anger that negatively impact our relationships with God and others. Speaking our troubles aloud with a compassionate, trained professional can bring a new understanding to a lingering problem. Sometimes healing begins simply by picking up the phone, stepping through a door, and allowing another human being to share the weight. Know that the Counselor of Wonders is never too busy to meet you there.

Two of my favorite books by therapists are ones that weave stories from their sessions and their own lives into every page. Lori Gottlieb’s Maybe You Should Talk to Someone: A Therapist, Her Therapist, and Our Lives Revealed was one of the first books I read by a therapist, and it opened the door to many others. Her book is packed with wise truths, such as, “Most big transformations come about from the hundreds of tiny, almost imperceptible, steps we take along the way.”

Recently, I read Leah Marone’s Serial Fixer: Break Free from the Habit of Solving Other People’s Problems. She shares stories from her counseling practice, her childhood, and her years as a Division I athlete. One phrase I have carried with me since reading her book is, “Support, Don’t Solve.”

If you prefer listening to podcasts, I recommend Ginny Detweiler’s PRN: Pause, Renew, Next and Kimberley Quinlan, Your Anxiety Toolkit. Ginny and Kimberley are both licensed therapists who bring calm and clarity to their clients, and they use their skills and experience to offer the same gift to those who listen each week.

Take care, and find joy in serving in the week ahead.

Serve and Love Well,
Rev. April H. Cranford