![]() Below is a blog I was asked to write for the counseling ministry I work for, Biblical Counseling & Training Ministries (www.bctministries.com). It is a story from my time in seminary that shows the principles and process of biblical counseling at work in a very difficult time of my life. Enjoy! There I was - a seminary student afraid to preach. Worse than that, I was afraid to even speak up in class. Everyone else seemed so bold and confident about public speaking, some even enjoyed it. But for me, the daily pressure of the classroom left me feeling anxious. I felt hopeless at the looming thought of preaching classes later in the curriculum. Victoriously battling this fear seemed an impossible task. I began to doubt my place in seminary, even my calling into ministry. Would I ever get past it? Years earlier in college I’d had several very negative experiences in public speaking. The kind that leave you with unshakable shame. I searched the Scriptures prayerfully for some kind of guarantee that I would not fail in this way again. But I found no such guarantee in the Bible and therefore no solace. I wanted certainty. Certainty of success. Certainty of approval. I couldn’t pray the fear away either. Prayer certainly helped me find some measure of peace in the midst of this battle, but nevertheless, when I walked from my apartment to class, my heart was not beating rapidly merely from the uphill walk; my palms were not only sweating from the heat of the day. No, these were the bodily symptoms of a fearful heart and a worried mind at war. Was the Bible I so diligently studied in seminary insufficient for such a problem? Was prayer simply a therapeutic exercise to take the edge off the troubles of daily life? One day I was on a camping trip with two good friends, and I mentioned “my fear of public speaking.” That was the way I always said it: “my fear” of public speaking. One of the friends in the car said to me, “David, maybe you should re-think the way you consider this fear. Sometimes it seems you use it as a crutch to avoid things you don’t want to do, things to which God is calling you.” I hardly had time to process the sentence before I was cut to the core by the Spirit’s conviction. I knew he was right. “My fear” of public speaking was not something that had me helplessly in its grip. I had it in my grip, and was using it for my own selfish purposes. I was using it as a way to protect myself. I was using it as a way to preserve my reputation. I had justified what the Bible calls “fear of man” by thinking of myself as a helpless victim of this fear. Ironically, the fear was not only a crutch of my own sinful heart, but also an invitation to rest in the faithfulness of my Savior. The Spirit was gracious in granting repentance in that moment and throughout the rest of seminary. It was not until I saw my fear for what it was that I could read God’s Word and be truly, profoundly helped. His Word is sufficient after all! It was not until I saw my fear accurately that I could pray properly, confessing my mistrust and finding grace in time of need. And in the end, I made it through the preaching classes just fine, even through the “roasting” that occurred after the sermon was preached (the students were given time to critique the sermon). And then it was over, I graduated. But the battle was not over. Just a few months later, as I was in an internship at a church, it was time to see if I was truly “over” the fear. Thankfully, this time I knew where to fight the battle. After all, peace is a fruit of God’s Holy Spirit, not a personal feeling. Peace did not come through certainty of success. Peace did not come through a guarantee that I wouldn’t embarrass myself. Peace came through fearing God rather than man. By “fearing God” I mean putting God’s purposes above mine, seeking his kingdom before mine, proclaiming his name at the risk of mine - things that we only do as we trust the One who died for us. There was no Scripture that brought this home more than Acts 20:24: “But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.” Paul left the comfort of the Ephesian church and headed toward Jerusalem, where he knew suffering likely awaited him. And even though he had no guarantee of safety, he pressed on, knowing he could trust a God who had given his Son for him. Likewise, as I climbed up the stairs to the stage and stood behind the pulpit, I didn’t know what was about to happen before this congregation. Would words come out of my mouth? Would I be able to keep breathing? Would I have a panic attack? I didn’t know. But I did know that I could go forward into this moment of risk because this moment was, as John Newton says, “held in hands that bled for us.” I have preached many times since. And after six years in ministry, I still get nervous. Every time. It will probably be a struggle for the rest of my life. But I have learned this: that there is nothing that remedies the fear of man like the fear of God; that there is no balm that heals worry like worship; and there is nothing that cures the anxiety of self-preservation like throwing your life away in the service of the King.
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For those who don't know, I have recently quit my IT job of 3 years at AFS Logistics (in a field that I was in for 9 years) to become a biblical counselor. I was hired by Biblical Counseling & Training Ministries of Jackson, MS (www.bctministries.com) to start an affiliate office in my hometown of Shreveport, LA. Yesterday was my first day full-time.
This is the kind of thing I have been wanting to do vocationally for years now (since seminary). In many ways it is a dream come true to be able to take the grace and truth of Jesus Christ and apply it to peoples lives in a transforming way. So is that why I've left my IT job? Because this offer is a dream come true? That may be a secondary reason, but if that my primary, ultimate reason for taking the job, I am in trouble. Because, you see, this "dream come true" could fail. This is no guaranteed success. If the church partnerships don't happen, if the counseling referrals don't come in, if the donations don't come in to cover folks who can't pay for counseling, this could be a failure. A flop. A puff in the wind. I could be like Radioshack, who is considering bankruptcy for the third time. Or like Outback, who (I believe) is closing all of their stores due to massive losses in the last two years. Now, it is tremendously helpful to have a main office that takes care of accounting, billing, training, marketing, website, 501(c)3 status, and so on. I don't know if I could do this if it weren't for having all of that done for me. But still, there is no guarantee of success. If my reason for leaving a steady IT job is because of a dream job, I am setting myself up for a nightmare of anxiety and disappointment. Because if the success of my new job is my hope and peace, what is going to happen when that success is threatened? What happens when the money is short one month? What happens when a counseling session goes bad or I lose a church partnership that I was heavily dependent upon? I will become anxious, disappointed, despairing. I will be like Israel, looking back at my IT job saying, "Oh how I miss the garlic and leeks and meat pots of Egypt!" No, a dream job cannot be my primary reason for leaving. I have to have a better reason. I have to have a more stable reason. I must have a holy rationale for this risk. So what is it? As I asked myself this several months ago, I thought of a scene from 2 Samuel 10. The Israeli army has been sent into battle against the Ammonites. But in a scene akin to Braveheart, they did not know the Ammonites had hired an extra 30,000+ Syrians to flank Israel from behind. So Joab, the Israeli general, sets up part of the army against the Syrians and sets his brother, Abishai, against the Ammonites with the rest of the army. And as these enemies close in on them from all sides, in what was likely certain death, Joab says this to his brother: "Be of good courage, and let us be courageous for our people, and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him.” What an incredible call to courage! That phrase "let us be courageous" is more literally translated "let us play the man for our people." Maybe that doesn't speak to women, but to me it speaks to an instinctual desire to protect, to fight for, even to lay my life down for those in need of help. Hooah! But did you hear what his courage consisted of? It wasn't, "God will prosper us in this holy crusade, so let's fight!" It wasn't, "God ensures us we will come out of this battle with our lives and limbs in tact, so be brave!" No. Victory, life, limbs - those things are not guaranteed, and so they are not sufficient places of hope and peace and courage. Joab admits as much, saying, "May the Lord do what seems good to him"! He has no idea what's about to happen. In fact, there's a good chance he may die. But he risks everything, leaving the success or failure up to God. And then comes the holy rationale. Joab presses on in courage "for our people and for the cities of our God." Joab risks his life for God's people, not because the people are worth it, but because God is worth it! Joab risks his livelihood for the cities of his God, not because the city is worthy of such devotion, but because the God to whom the city belongs is worthy! Compared to the glory of God, Joab's life is cheap. Compared to the worth of God, Joab's life is disposable. And so he recklessly throws himself into battle because, win or lose, the God of Israel deserves it. (And he does win by the way.) And so, in summary, the holy rationale behind Joab's risk is simply that God is worthy of such risk. The Apostle Paul understood this well when he headed toward the trap that awaited him in Jerusalem, saying, "But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God." That is what I'm holding onto as I go into this new vocational venture. My situation is a little less extreme than Joab's. But only quantitatively so. God's glory is at stake in my hometown of Shreveport, LA. God's grace and truth need to be worked into the lives of the people of this city. In comparison to such things, my livelihood is cheap and my career is disposable. And so, by and for God's grace I press on into this career as a biblical counselor. May the Lord do what seems good to him! I was asked recently to write a blog for the counseling ministry I work for. I decided to write on the "stigma" of counseling in the church, and why it shouldn't be there. If you want to read more about this counseling ministry, go to www.bctministries.com. Here it is:
The stigma of counseling - we all know the feeling. A brother suggests we go to counseling, and our wall of defense immediately goes up. Or perhaps we admit our need for marriage counseling, but a friend raises an eyebrow of surprise. Or even if we go to counseling, we worry about who might see us walking into the counseling office with our spouse. A friend of mine recently poked fun at the irony of the stigma of counseling in the church. It is so illogical it is almost humorous. How can we believe in the depravity of man and be so afraid of a church member seeing us walk into the counseling office? Is the body of Christ not in agreement that it is made up of broken sinners? And how can we gladly confess our desperate need for a savior but be ashamed of our need for counseling? Our case is so bad that the only solution was the death of God’s Son! Clearly, we are in serious need of help. Of all places, the stigma of counseling should be absent in the church because, the fact is, we are all in need of counseling. In his book Life Together, German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it this way:
But more than that, as I mentioned earlier, we believe in the depravity of man! Whatever words we use to describe it – the “sinful nature,” the “flesh,” “total depravity” – if we believe such things, we admit that at our core is a heart that is corrupted by sin, bent towards the self and away from God. How can we readily accept such a devastating doctrine and yet be ashamed when the time comes for marital counseling? We should expect nothing less than conflict from two sinners bound to one another for life. But even more than that, we believe in a Savior. For those of us who trust in Christ, we believe that our world was so broken that God’s Son had to actually leave heaven to come and fix it. We believe that we are so bad at doing what is good and right that God’s Son had to come and establish a righteousness apart from us. And we believe that we are so sinful that nothing less than the death of God’s Son could atone for our sins. If we so readily admit our radical need for the help of a Savior, why should we so reticently admit our ordinary need for the help of a counselor? As I said earlier, of all places, the stigma of counseling should be absent in the church. Chase recently wrote that the church is a hospital for sick and broken people, not a country club for people who think they are righteous. In a hospital, one patient does not scoff at another who meets with a doctor. Nor is one embarrassed to call the nurse for help. Likewise, whether you feel the need to call a friend for a word of wisdom or you hear a sister admit that her marriage is on the rocks, there is no need to be ashamed of the need for counseling, for we are all suffering sinners in need of the Great Physician. |
This blog is written by the authors of Cypress Press, meant for the creative illustration and application of God's Word.
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