A year of living with (chronic) fatigue


There have been a number of popular books about living a particular way for the year. AJ Jacobs’ book about living Biblically or Rachel Held Evan’s book on living biblical womanhood may be the most well known but I think my favorite title in this genre is a The Year of Living Danishly. Maybe it is all that hygge (cozy living) they enjoy. I hope to find out soon in my trip there in January. 

This post details a similar genre, though entirely involuntarily so. 

On December 31 2015 I found myself being tested, stuck, and interviewed at my local ER. I had been more tired than usual since my trip to Amman Jordan the previous month. I chalked it up to a heavy travel schedule and the end of semester fatigue. I would soon be 50. Was I slowing down? But on that day in the ER, I was having trouble moving my muscles to go up and down stairs. Standing for more than 5 minutes was out of the question. Larger muscles seemed to all want to twitch with a mind of their own. Having traveled to Brazil, DR Congo, Rwanda (twice), and Jordan, the doctors thought I must have contracted something exotic and interesting. 

I spent the month of January and February teaching from a stool and spending a lot of time in bed…or at various specialists. The results all came back negative. I didn’t have a known exotic infection. Neurology didn’t turn up anything that would explain my fatigue. I was able to keep working but exercise and basic exertion was next to impossible. I had felt tired before but didn’t know that fatigue makes things like raising your hands or even chewing food to be a chore…or that fatigue makes sleep even more difficult. 

After 6 months of seeking mainstream answers and getting nothing, I turned to integrative medicine and began a regimen of massive supplements and treatment for a possible chronic lyme infection. Certainly, my level of fatigue has dropped considerably even if I cannot walk long without fatigue. I can teach for 3 hours and only need to sit from time to time.

So, what have I learned during the last 12 months? 

  1. Fatigue colors everything. Sleep is non-existent. Eating is tiring. Even thinking is a challenge. Memory, mood, and libido are seriously disrupted. Fatigue of this level is all-encompassing and cannot be escaped. 
  2. Planning is nearly impossible. What will I be able to do next month, next week, the next day? Should I cancel that speaking engagment? Should we cancel family vacation? I wouldn’t know how I was going to feel in the afternoon even when I felt great in the morning. I realized how little ability I had to predict my energy, especially last winter. 
  3. Fatigue messes with identity. For 50 years I have done what I wanted to when I wanted to. I have been able to push (even over-extend) my body with little seeming consequence. Fatigue, on the other hand changes how you see yourself and how you relate to your loved ones. Once used to being the one to do things for others, you become the helped. When you feel 80 but you think you should feel like 50, it begins to change your sense of yourself and your place in life. At times I wondered if my career was about to be over. If you make your identity what you can do, fatigue will soon remind you that such an identity is certainly fragile and soon lost. 
  4. Unknown causes of suffering is its own form of suffering. During the months of testing, I regularly had to consider what to do have the next round of “negative” results. Should I keep digging? Even after accepting an “equivocal” chronic lyme infection diagnosis, the treatment consists of medicines/supplements that are not fully supported by mainstream medicine (i.e., double-blind study results). Is it working? (Or better, what part of it is causing the positive results?) Should I continue? 
  5. There is a secret fraternity among fell0w sufferers. Over the last year I have come to know many invisible sufferers. Individuals with chronic pain, fatigue, and/or disease states that limit capacity are quick to empathize. They offer support and help with ease but also with the knowledge that there isn’t a magic bullet to solve the problem. I have felt  loved and cared for by many but those who know are the best at understanding. 
  6. Weakness offers an opportunity to trust God anew and to see life with new eyes. When you can only trust God (and not your own strength) you see mercy and grace you might not have seen before. When you can do what you want, you are filled with gratitude. 

I would love to say that on December 31 2016 I was able to learn all I needed to learn from my year of fatigue and revert to my former physically capable self. While I am not back to where I was, I am happy to report that I am much improved over last year. I can walk further, stand for as long as I need to, and travel internationally as I have opportunity. And I hope I continue to be more prayerful as I steward what resources I have been given. 

10 Comments

Filed under "phil monroe", health, Identity, personal

Your lack of self-care harms others, so what are you going to do about it?


Advent and the end of the year provide opportunities for some self-reflection in preparation for the start of the coming year. So…how are you doing? Are you taking care of yourself? This is especially important if you are a service provider such as a counselor or caregiver. 

Last October, a meta analysis of healthcare providers’ self-care (or lack thereof) and its relationship to quality of service indicates a clear negative relationship: lack of self-care leads to great likelihood of harm to patients. 

Eighty-two studies including 210,669 healthcare providers were included. Statistically significant negative relationships emerged between burnout and quality (r = −0.26, 95 % CI [−0.29, −0.23]) and safety (r = −0.23, 95 % CI [−0.28, −0.17]). In both cases, the negative relationship implied that greater burnout among healthcare providers was associated with poorer-quality healthcare and reduced safety for patients

What is even more telling is that patients can tell and do perceive when we are burned out. You think your bitterness, your lack of sleep, your losing your first love of helping isn’t showing? It is. 

Now, there are many reasons why we don’t steward ourselves (hearts, bodies, and minds) well. Sometimes we are in systems that actively discourage taking care of the self. In Christian settings, focusing on the self doesn’t seem to comport with “being poured out like a drink offering.” Others of us never learned how. Still others struggle with guilt. How can I take care of me if others have less help than I do? Yet others don’t take time to pour back in to self because it isn’t comfortable. Serving others is easier and provides more immediate rewards.  

What is your reason? 

If you were going to do something on a consistent basis to recognize your need to be cared for, what would you do? For your spiritual needs? Professional growth? Physical needs? Relational needs? See if you can come up with one thing for each arena–things you can do on a consistent basis. For example, you might decide to read Diane Langberg’s daily devotional for the next 40 days, In Our Lives First, as a means to do something for both your ministry skills growth and spiritual vitality. 

Don’t over-think it. What is just one thing you can do (or stop doing if it isn’t helping) to make your self a bit more refreshed? 

2 Comments

Filed under christian counseling, continuing education, Meditations, Uncategorized

Over-confidence? Under-confidence? Assessing counselor tendencies


Every counselor desires to be effective, to handle client concerns and problems with competency. We do this work because we long to see others recover quickly and we do not want to get in the way of needed and desired growth. Early career counselors often feel out of their league and so seek out all the help they can get: supervision, books, essays, and peer-consultation. This is the proper way to learn and become better at our craft.

But what happens when we begin to feel competent and confident? Do we stop feeling needy? Stop seeking input? If we do stop pursuing growth and increased competency, skills and capacities will erode. We might think all is well, we’ve got this under control, but in reality we would enter dangerous territory. Imagine wanting to be an Olympic athlete and yet forgoing training.

Erosion happens.

So, should we want to feel less competent? No. The goal is not to feel ineffective nor to lack confidence in what we do. I would not want a second-guessing surgeon to operate on me. Rather, it is important to maintain regular (not obsessive!) self-examination and invitation to others to give you input and feedback.

For the possibly under-confident counselor:

Where do you feel you need help, are less competent than you would like? What are your common responses to that feeling? Who have you talked to about this problem? Where have you sought help? What continuing education have you completed? While it is good to get help to “know what to do” don’t forget that a large portion of therapeutic success is attributed to who you are in the session. Be sure to focus on your listening, and “bearing-witness” skills. Remember to be a student of the client.

For the possibly over-confident counselor:

Do you still have supervision? If not, why not? Look over your caseload. Who are you working with who you have not reviewed assessment, diagnosis and treatment plans with another (note: peer supervision can be done without revealing confidential or private information)? When was the last time you verbalized your case conceptualizations with a critical eye to the potential myopia that plagues us all? What continuing education have you completed that can revise and improve your skills?  While relationship-building skills are the most important, do not stop learning and growing in knowledge and understanding.

It is good to remember that  our skills WILL erode without attention, just like muscles with grow flabby without exercise. One such muscle for the Christian counselor is that of prayer. Consider your recent counseling activities and ask how prayer has fit into your work. Is it a perfunctory or an afterthought? Does is change depending on how you feel about your competency? What does it reveal about your therapeutic operating system (e.g., what is the source of power to change?)

2 Comments

Filed under biblical counseling, christian counseling, counseling, counseling skills, teaching counseling, Uncategorized

Finding hope in a hopeless world


The world has always been falling apart. Well, at least since Genesis 3. But there are times when we are far more aware of just how busted up we are in this world. This is one of those times. Those of us who work in the social services get a front-row seat at seeing individual, family, community, and society level brokenness.

Frankly, this vantage point tempts me to become cynical, skeptical, and in despair. Listen in on some of the thoughts we Christian counselors might have: people don’t change; leaders serve themselves; God doesn’t care… Out of this experiences, counselors may find themselves becoming complacent, settling for palliative care only (vs. recovery), or worse, using clients to sate their own appetites.

So, where do you find hope in an otherwise hopeless world?

Cynicism and skepticism illustrate conclusions we have made about our world. file-nov-28-5-16-13-pmThey illustrate that we have stopped looking for other data. Consider instead these three activities as a reminder and cultivator of the hope available to us:

  1. Waiting and lamenting. I’ve written on this quite a bit over the years. This post was my most recent, but this one and this one may be of use as well. You might wonder whether lamenting leads to more cynicism. But notice that the goal is to actively wait on God for an answer. When we lament in front of God we talk to him about the state of our soul or the state of the world. Waiting requires that we prepare to listen to God’s heart on these same things.
  2. Waiting and looking. This is the season of Advent, of remembering the birth of Jesus, the messiah. †Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist had stopped looking for God to show up. Who can blame him, God hadn’t seemed to show up for a mere 400 years or so. It took being struck silent by an angelic messenger to wake him from his disbelief. Where are you no longer looking for God’s hand in your life? In the world? Look to your present. Ask your friends to tell you where they notice God’s activity. Look to your future, imagine yourself as a child waiting eagerly for Christmas morning. Be like that child and keep talking to God, “Is it Christmas yet?” Look even to the past. See what God has done in your life in the past and let that remind you that he is at work in your present and future. Read Hebrews 11 as a reminder of God’s faithfulness to his people.
  3. Waiting and loving. While we wait, we are not passive! We move and act in love, even when it seems the good we do will not change the outcome. That loving may be acts of palliative care, or it may be an act of planting a dormant seed that one day springs to life and full bloom. This act of loving others grows out of Jeremiah’s lament (Lam 3:21f): because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed. Therefore we recognize that our minuscule capacity to love, to care, even to call others to repentance are all signposts of God’s ongoing love for his people.

Is it crazy to hope in this world? Absolutely. But the signs of birth are around you if you look. Notice in Luke 1 how Zechariah sings of present-tense salvation and redemption, even though Jesus is merely in utero. How much more ought we to be able to hope as we live in the age of the Resurrection.†

†I got these ideas from a sermon preached by Marc Davis on 11/27/16.

 

4 Comments

Filed under Advent, Biblical Reflection, Despair, suffering, Uncategorized

Lament During Thanksgiving?


First published November 2013 at www.biblical.edu, this continues to be my primary experience today and so I offer you it again, slightly revised.

Thanksgiving is that time of year when we get together with family to enjoy good food, maybe a football game, and to be thankful for God’s provision during the past year. Sometimes, though, we don’t feel all that thankful. Yes, we recognize that God indeed has given us many good things, things like food, water, salary, housing, and the like. We acknowledge that we have no rights to demand these things. We acknowledge that there are many who are far worse off. Given recent events, we can imagine how much more blessed we are than those who refugees from civil wars in the Middle East.

And yet, despite our knowledge of grace and mercy, there are times when all we notice are the broken things in our lives—our bodies, our families, our communities.

I confess this is my state this Thanksgiving. I won’t bore you with the details but I struggle to stay focused on the many good things God has given me.

But it might surprise you that though I am noticing a lot of brokenness, I am not embittered or angry with God. I am full of lament. I lament the length of time it is taking God to act in some matters. I lament how much active and passive hatred for the other is present, even in there is in our Christian communities! Have we not lost love for those we consider outsiders? I lament that Jesus has not returned and ended death and suffering.

I am thankful for lament

Here’s what I am thankful for. We serve a God who has encouraged us to lament to him. Laments are cries of our heart where we question God (sometimes even accuse as in Psalmfile-nov-19-7-46-37-am 89), cry out for relief, ask for understanding, and grieve over sins done by self and others. Think about this for a moment: what King in all the earth not only invites such communication but even writes words for his subjects? He is not afraid of our questions or our complaints. Giving him such can be an act of worship.

Enter Isaiah 64. Isaiah is a book of confrontation of sin, call for holiness, prediction of judgment, and vision of restoration. In addition, we find windows of Isaiah’s lament for what is going to unfold for Israel. Listen to portions of his lament and some of my commentary:

Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you! As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you.

Ok Lord, act already. Do it! What are you waiting for?

But when we continued to sin against them [the vulnerable, the righteous], you were angry…all of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags…no one calls on your name…you have hidden your face from us and made us waste away because of our sins.

We so deserve your wrath Lord, but we are wasting away here Lord, if you don’t help us!

Yet, O Lord, you are our Father, we are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure O Lord…Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are your people.

Lord, we know you are our creator. We deserve no special recognition. Yet, remember we are your image bearers. Oh Lord, shape us, don’t destroy us.

Thankful I can vacillate?

Notice how Isaiah 64 and other laments (e.g., Psalm 42-43; Habakkuk, the book of Lamentations) bounce between recalling God’s goodness, questioning his plans, grieving own sin, yet imploring God to vindicate. Are these writers wishy-washy?

I don’t think so. Too often we think the best theology is all neat and tidy:

Problem + Victorious God = No Problem

While this will be true one day, it isn’t yet. And so we lament in vacillating and non-linear ways. Even as we proclaim God’s sovereign power, we also acknowledge that we are in great turmoil. These laments give us examples of how to hold on to our faith even as we have no answer for the moment. We are not required to end on a happy note. Look back at Psalms 42-3. See how the Psalmist cries out in despair, recalls better times, enjoins himself to hope in God, but then again remembers that he is great pain. Notice that neither Lamentations nor Habakkuk end in victory for the “good guys.” Lamentations, like Isaiah 64, ends with a question mark—“if you haven’t forgotten us already?” Habakkuk acknowledges the victory of being able to praise God in a terrible famine, but that doesn’t remove suffering or the reason for the lament in the first place (ongoing sin by Israel and her destruction by a pagan nation).

So, I’m thankful this season that we worship a great God capable of holding our laments and recording our tears. I am thankful that I do not have to pretend all is well for fear God will strike me down. He knows my pain. He has suffered in every way and so is a High Priest who can relate to my feelings of abandonment. And he is working for our future Good. But for now, I can lament that it (victory) hasn’t arrived in its fullest form and take comfort in a more realistic equation:

Problem + Presence of God = I Lament and am Not Alone

3 Comments

Filed under Biblical Reflection, Christianity, Meditations, suffering, Uncategorized

What is more important to your church when it fails abuse victims? Gospel-driven behavior or reducing liability


Over the years I have had the opportunity to walk with church leaders through the difficult waters of abuse, whether done by leaders or done by congregants. One of the first conversations I try to have with those tasked with responding to the situation is this: What core values do you want to shape your response? Another way of saying this could be, “At the end of the day, who do you want to be, who do you think Christ calls you to be?

These values do not tell you what to do. They do not give you steps. But, they will help evaluate if a particular response is moving towards or away from those values.

If we don’t start at this point, then a couple of other values will control the conversation and control the decision-making: limiting legal liability, damage control, reputation management, and the like. These are understandable but do not comport with Gospel-driven responses to abuse.

Consider this fictional case.

A decade earlier a youth pastor is caught engaging in sexual activity with a teen. The church does not name it at sexual abuse and allows the youth pastor to leave and does not tell the congregation why he left. All this was done for complex reasons: lack of understanding of the gravity of the situation, desires to protect the victim (requested by the parents), and desires to protect their own identity. Years later, it is discovered the youth pastor has gone on to abuse more children in two other settings. Through a variety of reasons, the church is confronted for its failure to handle the situation properly. They are publicly accused of misconduct. The leadership of the church calls their attorney and their insurance company and get the strong advice to not admit any wrongdoing. Instead they are to make a bland statement and initiate an internal investigation (some of the leaders now were not there ten years ago). The report is issued some time later with policy changes made public. While it reveals “mistakes were made” by one of the leaders no longer present, it offers regret but falls short of an apology or indication that the church bore any responsibility for the subsequent abuse experiences.

What core values shaped the church’s response?

What would a church response look like if shaped by deep apology and behavioral repentance? What would it look like if the church considered the plight of the victims and their needs? Would they feel a responsibility to support their recovery? What if they cared more for kingdom values more than worrying whether they would be sued?

Sometimes, times of trouble reveal which god we really serve the most. And sometimes it is not very pretty.

It doesn’t always go badly. I do know a number of churches who opened themselves up to increased liability in order to speak truth about their failures. Take heart. It is possible!

3 Comments

Filed under Abuse, Christianity: Leaders and Leadership, church and culture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Uncategorized

Election Anxiety after November 8?


In a little more than 24 hours we should learn the identity of our next President of the United States (We hope; recall the hanging chads and drama of the 2000 election). And we hope we will be able to take a collective sigh and return to daily life without being bombarded by attack ads and new revelations about the character (or lack thereof) of the candidates.

It has, by every account, been an especially long and  difficult election season. We are tired. We want it over. But will the angst really disappear on Wednesday?

Probably not. But maybe you can do something about your own anxiety and distress.

  1. Detach from social media.
  2. Engage in a face-to-face conversation with a person about their history and future. Find out what excites or energizes them.
  3. Detach from the faux breaking news sites. If you want to look, look to stories that have depth of reporting and which avoid clickbait titles.
  4. Engage other important stories of our day, both here and beyond our borders.

Remember, your true safety does not come from a president or a king. Your future is truly in God’s hands. Do talk to him about your angst. Do ask him to intervene. But also listen and look for evidence that God’s kingdom is expanding. Look for where he has placed you “for such a time as this.”

Leave a comment

Filed under News and politics, Uncategorized

Is your empathy really self-serving?


Empathy, or feelings of understanding or identification with another, seems to be a primary vehicle of human expression of love and compassion. In the world of therapy, empathy seems the foundation for all good counselor work. Sure, we can act in kind, compassionate, yet robotic ways but knowing that someone gets you and helps you is better.

But this begs two questions: Are empathy and altruism connected and parallel? And, is our empathy really self-serving? Taking the second question further, could our empathic responses be destructive to the very people with whom we want to help? Psychologist Paul Bloom thinks so (short video of his contra empathy point of view). While I think his argument against empathy is seriously flawed and really merely an argument against naïve, superficial, and self-serving do-gooderism–a significant problem in our society where we solve problems on emotion and often without taking the time to understand either cause or consequence–the bigger question is whether or not we ever really have concern for others outside of self-interest. And if we discover that all empathy is self-serving, does that deny the Christian virtue of self-denial and voluntary submission to others?

What is at the heart of our empathic, altruistic behavior?

We all have numerous instances where we have witnessed self-sacrificing behavior. The reason these instances stand out in our memories is that they are unusual and somewhat rare experiences. But consider the more run-of-the-mill expressions of empathy. You see a GoFundMe page for a friend in need and you give. Your church is seeking donations for Thanksgiving baskets and you buy groceries. Your neighbor is sick and you mow her lawn. Do we do these behaviors for them? Or do we do it, in large part, for ourselves?

Josh Litman’s paper “Is Empathy Ultimately Just Narcissism?” seeks to summarize the research literature about whether empathy and altruism are positively correlated and whether empathy is really about the other or about self-interest. His answer? Empathy and altruism may not be all that connected. Empathy is better understood as feelings of “oneness” or connectedness to the other. When I identify more with someone, I’m more likely to feel empathy and do self-sacrificial for them.

In conclusion, this paper defends a non-altruistic, egoistic strain of empathic concern. It might be heavy-handed to call it narcissism, but evidence has shown that empathic concern is certainly motivated by self-interested factors rather than selflessness.

Could this be the reason why more people changed their Facebook profile images to a French flag after the Paris bombings and far fewer chose a Turkish flag after the most recent airport bombing? Do we more closely identify with one group over another and thus feel more empathy and make more statements of support and care?

Does this proclivity to more strongly identify with some more than others reveal self-interest and self-concern? If so, does that make our caring of others all about ourselves and cause us to suspect the warmth and empathy we get from others?

So you, too, must show love to foreigners, for you yourselves were once foreigners in the land of Egypt. (Deut 10:19, NLT)

Oneness and love in the created and the Creator

I think empathy can be self-serving (I care for you because I want to be cared for) but I do not think it must be this way. Rather, I would argue that we have been designed to understand our world by means of our experiences. Because I understand what it could feel like to lose my home to a flood I am moved to donate time and talent to help rebuild a home. Because I see your humanness, I am able to empathize with your losses and then consider what possible ways I might respond.

Oneness does help us empathize. But empathy is not the same thing as love. True love, as an action verb, requires a willingness to expend self for the sake of another. True love enlarges the population you are one with. So, straight people find themselves in the experiences of gay people; Christians in the experience of Muslims; liberals in the experience of conservatives. True love moves beyond simplistic understandingfile-nov-02-12-21-19-pms with oneness and best reflects the character of God who self-sacrificially loves beyond measure, choosing to take up our infirmities as his own.

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! (Phil 2:5-8, NIV)

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.(Heb 4:15, NIV)

 

Leave a comment

Filed under counseling, counseling skills, love, Psychology, Uncategorized

Does your counselor have these two important skills? 


I love working with counselors-in-training. We get to discuss everything from diagnoses to interventions, ethics to theology, character development to politics. I know I’m biased but along with the population of Lake Wobegon, our students “are all above average.” 

That said, there are two extremely difficult counseling skills every student needs to learn–frequently the hard way. To be an effective counselor, you have to be able to conceptualize a person and their presenting problems well (e.g., wrong assessment leads to wrong treatment) and you have to maintain a clinical alliance throughout the course of treatment. Of course, a counselor needs to be of good and mature character. She needs to have a bank of excellent questions to ask, a knowledge of common intervention strategies, and a good ear to hear what the client is trying to express. These things are necessary foundations for the skill of conceptualization and alliance.

Conceptualization

When you come to counseling to discuss a challenge in your life you want the counselor to be able to understand and put your situation into proper perspective. You expect them to have some expertise beyond your own–otherwise why go? As you tell your story, it always has missing and disjointed parts. There are dead ends and mysteries that may start out feeling important that in time become less a focus than other issues. Your counselor needs to put the problems you raise into some context. What lens to view the problems should be used? 

  • Is the conflict between a mother and teen best understood by the lens of enmeshment, Attention-Deficit, autism, sinful pride, depression, anxiety, rebellion or…?
  • Is the conflict between a husband and wife best understood as lack of knowledge, demandingness, personality disorder, emotional abuse, etc.

An effective counselor uses multiple lenses to view his counselee and holds those lenses loosely in recognition that first impressions need refinement. 

Do you feel heard or pigeon-holed by your therapist? Does your therapist discuss possible ways to look at the problem you have and thus different ways to approach solutions? 

Alliance

Alliance is a hard thing to describe but it encompasses a trust relationship where therapist and client work in concert to explore and resolve a problem. There is agreement on the problem definition and the process of therapy.  There are several things that seem to be part of this concept but fall in two key categories: techniques and stance. A good therapist asks great questions that enable a person to feel heard as they tell their story. A good therapist validates the person even if they do not agree with interpretations of the client. A good therapist makes sure that the client knows they are more than the sum total of their problems. Finally, a good therapist checks in with a client to find out how they are experiencing the therapy session and approach. But good questions and feedback are not the full picture of alliance. The therapist needs a stance that reflects being a student of the person; of collaboration over action. It reflects an understanding of pacing and the client’s capacity to process information.  

A counselor can understand a problem but if they rush ahead or lag behind in pacing, the alliance will fail. Consider this example. Therapist A meets with a client with a domestic violence victimization problem. It is clear to the therapist that the client needs to move out and that the client is resistant to this idea. The clinician presses the client to leave and challenges her to see her husband as an abuser. While the counselor may be correct, the confrontive and authoritative stance is unlikely to bear much fruit and will either create defensiveness or passivity in sessions. One sure sign of poor alliance is when a therapist is constantly thinking about how to get his or her client to do something. 

Meanwhile, Therapist B meets with the same client and explores the ambivalence she has towards her husband and the abuse. Options are discussed, less for movement sake and more for examination of fears and opportunities, hopes and despair. Both therapists have the same sets of good questions, but one is more aware of the pacing of the client and meets her where she is where the other one forces a pace the client is not ready to match. This does not mean a counselor never pushes a client but it does mean they never do that without the understanding and agreement of the client. 

Alliance is not a static feature. It grows and shrinks during the course of a relationship. There are ruptures and hopefully repairs. Sometimes a rupture leads to an even stronger alliance if the repair leaves the client feeling cared for and respected. Ruptures are not always caused by the counselor but it is the counselor’s job to notice and to work to resolve. 

Do you feel like you are on the same page with your therapist? Do you have evidence (not just fears) that your counselor is frustrated by you? When you have a “miss” in a session, does your therapist acknowledge it and talk about how you are feeling about therapy? If you bring up an rupture, are you listened to? 

2 Comments

Filed under christian counseling, counseling, counseling skills, Counselors, teaching counseling, Uncategorized

Is God eternally traumatized?


The first words of Alwyn Lau’s “Saved By Trauma” essay remind us that the work of Jesus Christ on the cross is the foundation and center point for all of Christianity.§ Without the cross, there is no Christian faith.

The Christian faith is centered around the historical trauma of the suffering, death, and bodily resurrection of Jesus. Christian theological reflection starts from and eventually relates back to the work of Christ. Indeed, for some theologians, the resurrection points back to and affirms the cross. The apostle Paul’s declaration that the Christian pronunciation is essentially “Christ crucified, a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles” (1 Cor 1:23) ontologically entrenches trauma, destabilization, and anxiety at the heart of kerygymatic [sic] proclamation. (p.273)

Sit with that last sentence a bit. Christianity is at its core or essence a faith wrapped up in trauma. Yes, there is an all-important resurrection, but a resurrection cannot happen without a traumatic story (false-blame, injustice, torture, abandonment, and death). If Christianity is ANYTHING, then it is a faith that takes seriously the impact of brokenness.

So then, Lau makes an important next point about what a Christian theology should provide:

Theology proffers a distinct vocabulary to talk about personal and interpersonal wounding and trauma; the Christian community approximates a traumatic community. (ibid)

Victims of trauma ought to find great comfort and help from Christian leaders and communities because they observe a community that really gets their experience, both by word and deed.

Are we that community?

Or, are we a bit more like Job’s friends? Consider Lau again,

 Job’s friends, in presenting all kinds of explanations for why Job suffered the tragedies he did, were attempting to obscure the trauma of the truth of evil in the world. Job’s disagreement–and God’s eventual vindication and endorsement of his views over against that of his friends–demonstrated resilience in the face of such tempting illusions of closure. Job refused to look away from the void in his pain. He refused to accept cheap solutions to the problem and “causes” of his suffering. (p. 274)

To become a safe community for victims of trauma, we must continue to highlight that God and trauma are put together (albeit willingly) for eternity in the abandonment and death of Jesus on the cross. In this God takes trauma (injustice, torture, and death) into his own being–no longer does it exist in creation.  Again in the words of Lau, we need a “theology of Holy Saturday” if we are going to show that “hope can be spoken of only within the context of injustice, negativity, and despair; the joy and the Lordship of Christ takes place in and through sickness, death, and sin.” (ibid)

“If God’s being cannot be comprehended without factoring in the suffering and death of Jesus Christ…” (p. 275) then consider this statement:

“If indeed God suffers in the cross of Jesus in reconciling the world to himself, then there must always be a cross in the experience of God as he deals with a world which exists over against him.” (quote of Paul Fiddes in Lau, p. 275)

God is defined by trauma. But he, unlike creation, is not weakened by this trauma. Rather, Lau encourages us to see that “the God self-revealed  and depicted in the Judeo-Christian tradition is a begin who, out of love for the created order, chose the trauma of death as a central facet of God’s self-definition.” (276) In an immeasurable act of love that had been present in God from eternity past, God chooses self-sacrifice to break the power of sin and death. And since this love is not temporal, then neither is God’s character ever without the knowledge and drive to reconcile a people to himself–even through trauma.

So what? What if we really understood God’s experience of trauma?

  1. The church would follow her head in the care of the most vulnerable even at the cost of her own comfort and safety. “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.” (Matt 12:20, quote of Isaiah 42:3)
  2. The church would regularly make room for lament (individual and corporate) as acts of faithful worship. Like Thomas, we need to see the wounds that remain in the risen Christ.
  3. Hope would be illustrated in her ability to equally cry out about the “not yet” part of God’s present kingdom even while she looks for the “already” present redemption and healing. There is as much hope in Psalm 88 and Lamentation 3 as there is in Revelation 21.

 

§Lau, A. (2016). Saved by trauma: A psychoanalytical reading of the atonement. Dialog, 55, 273-281.

 

3 Comments

Filed under Abuse, Christianity, Doctrine/Theology, Gospel, trauma, Uncategorized