People have told me for — wow, a long time — that I’m “wise”. I took pride in that for a long time, which is a patently foolish thing to do. But I’m coming around to a sincere appreciation of wisdom.
I’ve recently started counseling again (this will be my third time with someone trained in Biblical Counseling as described by ACBC). I’ve seen therapists off an on since I was a child in family therapy. You’d think with so much therapy in my life, I’d be one of the most balanced people you could meet. I think I might appear that way to those who don’t know me well. I know all the correct language; I am often surprised about the lack of general knowledge most people have regarding various disorders; I am aware and practice several coping skills that I learned in therapy such as thought management (thinking about what I’m thinking), documenting “triggers”, asking myself why do I feel this way?
When I started seeing a Biblical counselor in 2013, I did not have any real hope that it would help. I just went because I knew if I didn’t do something, I would ruin another marriage. It seemed inevitable. I could see so clearly everything I did wrong; I knew my separated husband had hurt me deeply as well, but to my thinking I had caused all of that pain myself. And when I walked into that small room inside a church about twenty miles out of my way, it came as a huge sigh of relief that this counselor didn’t zero in on the hurts that others caused me and attempt to get me to see how I was a victim of some sort. She determined in one session my deepest spiritual need at that time, and over the next few months worked with me until I had to humbly admit that despite my sin God did love me and that it was only His love that had the power to change me. I still turn to Psalm 139 and Ephesians 1 on a regular basis to remind myself of the most anchoring truths I had ever received in my life up to that point.
And I say all that to say this: I have grown to love wisdom. And I am writing this now because I want to share this love; I want to encourage others to seek wisdom out for themselves. I want you to know that if I seem convinced of anything, it is only because I have been persuaded that God is still performing miracles and He longs so very deeply to share true abundance with His children. If I seem confident, it is not in my earthly abilities or earthly “wisdom”. May God deal with me, as He has, if I boast in anything but Him.
I started this post in response to something that seems far away and unimportant now. May 2020, I started this, after someone was apparently flabbergasted that I would dare to be certain about the spiritual needs of anyone. I was supposed to humbly admit that I could be wrong — about something I am just as certain of as the sun rising in the east. As recently as a few months ago, I probably would have “admitted” that I could be wrong (what a silly notion anyway; should I also “admit” to breathing, to needing rest, to all other aspects of humanity?) and frankly I would never have even expressed that this person (like everyone else) had any particular spiritual need; I would have decided it’s not my place.
The very little wisdom I’ve gained over the last few months is teaching me that it is very much my place to point people back to God and His ways if they tell me they want to follow Him. It’s not only my place, it is commanded. I am failing my brothers and sisters in Christ if I am too afraid of being seen as prideful to speak the truths of Scripture.
July 2021 brings me back here to this draft, and I think I am finally ready to post it. I still struggle with hesitating to speak the truth. I feel as though God asks me to willingly walk on hot coals for the trouble I know it will cause me to dare say, “I think you might be sinning”. I fail frequently.
I need so much wisdom. I am forever grateful for the counselors that have shown me where to find it.
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