Q & A with Sarah Born

by J. Michael Blackston, M.A.

This month Sarah Born joined our team after graduating from Reformed Theological Seminary.  She lives in the Lake Nona area and has a heart to provide soul care in this growing area of Central Florida.  I had a chance to ask her a few questions so you can get to know her more.

Michael: How did you become interested in becoming a counselor?

Sarah: I can think of a number of opportunities over a period of years that culminated in me pursuing this profession. Part of my interest grew while I was in college from a year of working in the Dean’s Office and another year as a Resident Advisor on campus. These opportunities really peaked my interest in working with people. After college I spent two years as a Professional Advisor for over 600 college students. Many of my conversations during this time revolved around their personal struggles, plans, hopes and disappointments in addition to academic planning. Additionally, significant people in my life encouraged my interest in becoming a counselor. But I think it was really my own personal counseling experience that solidified this as my own personal vocation. It is such an honor to sit with people, often during some of the most difficult seasons in their lives, and extend care and offer hope.

Michael: Congratulations on graduating with your Master’s degree last month. Share a highlight and a challenge from your two-year experience.

Sarah: One of the highlights from the past two years was working alongside my classmates in the clinic. There was always a sense of support and encouragement. The program was also challenging because it really threw off the routine that my husband and I were so used to. I spent many late nights in the clinic and I don’t think we ever quite adjusted to that change in our schedule.

Michael: How would you describe your counseling style and approach in working with your clients?

Sarah: I’m trained in a relational style of counseling. I believe the relationship between the counselor and the client is considerably important for contributing to therapeutic change. I am passionate about a counseling environment that provides the client space to begin to speak honestly about their life.

Michael: Tell me about your heart for the Lake Nona area.

Sarah: Three years ago my husband and I moved to the Lake Nona area to be close to my husband’s new employer, Wycliffe. We never imagined we would plant ourselves here long-term. However, three years have gone by and now we can’t imagine living anywhere else. As I started the counseling program I was aware that there were NO counselors on a full-time basis in the area. I was sure that by the time I graduated someone would have opened a counseling office, but no. This provides a really exciting opportunity for me to offer a needed service in Lake Nona. I value being connected to and contributing to the community where I live. I look forward to continuing to build partnerships with pastors, churches and other organizations in the area as we seek to serve Lake Nona together.

Michael: What do you enjoy doing for fun?

Sarah: I love cooking with my husband, beach trips or just an evening hanging out with friends and family. I also enjoy playing with my pup, Winston.

More Than Mud Pies

by Lindsey Coates, M.A.

It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.  –C.S. Lewis in The Weight of Glory

I have never met anyone who did not find C.S. Lewis to be one of the most prolific writers to span generations. Even if you don’t agree with him, he will make you think, laugh, cry, and ponder the very essence of who we are and what we were meant to do, both in this world and in the next. Lewis’ quote comparing us as humans to ignorant children slapping together mud pies is one of my favorites, and it also describes, in a nutshell, my beliefs about counseling. The main reason I am so passionate about what I do is that I have experienced healing and redemption through counseling as well. Like many of my clients, my life has been full of great joy and profound tragedy. While I will never tell someone else I understand what he or she is going through (because I have never been in your shoes and I will not pretend I have), I truly believe that empathy is one of the most important ingredients in the counseling relationship. And it is a relationship. It is an odd one, for sure. Where else do you pour the most intimate details of your life into the hands of someone whom you just met?

This is why Lewis’ words drive home the core of what I believe. We are all capable of living “half-heartedly”, settling for the slums rather than fully recognizing and living into our God-given desires. I am not a woman who has it all figured out–far from it. I am a woman who is passionate about helping people discover what their “mud pies” are, whether they include addiction, sexual brokenness, abusive relationships, broken marriages, or trauma. Once we know where our hurts live, we can begin the process of healing. It takes time. No one becomes whole-hearted over night. But the process is worth the investment of time, resources, energy, and emotions. It gives me no greater joy than to introduce men and women to the freedom of hope. Hope is scary, because it leaves us yearning for more. But, like Lewis wrote so truthfully, we were all created for more.

The Ache of Goodbye

by J. Michael Blackston, M.A.

My 2-year-old daughter, Hannah, already has two boyfriends (cute now, not so cute in about 10 years)! When she sees them, she lights up. A morning full of meltdowns with mommy instantly changes to a glorious day of smiles and laughs in their presence. Bryce and Xander are their names, and in the first two years of their lives they have seen each other multiple times a week. When it’s been a few days without a play date, you’re bound to hear Hannah say something like “I want Bryce.”

Over the past month, and in particular over the last week, Rachel and I have found ourselves talking frequently about Bryce and Xander, but our conversations have been filled with heartache. You see, Bryce and Xander are both moving this summer to different parts of the country. Although we have known it’s been coming for quite some time, we’ve avoided thinking about it. The thought of Hannah not having her buddies around makes us so sad. Rachel and the moms have gotten so close to one another, sharing honestly about the joys and triumphs, as well as the agony and frustrations of motherhood. These women have been such a gift to Rachel.

But they’re leaving. In my attempts to make it better, to “fix it” if you will, I’ll say things to Rachel like, “We’ll still go and visit them,” or Rachel might say, “Hannah will bond with her other friends.” Both of which are true, but both are also attempts to avoid the agony of goodbye. The other night we were lying in bed, and Rachel said something so simple yet so profound. “We just need to name it as it is—a painstaking loss, a loss for us, for Hannah, for them.” It’s so true. No matter how we try to spin it, these relationships that have brought such joy and fullness will forever be changed.

I hate goodbyes. I always have. For years I wondered why, and then one of my seminary professors Chuck DeGroat put words to it: “We weren’t meant for goodbyes.” That statement resonates with me. Our hearts weren’t meant for separation. This is the essence of sin—separation from God, from others, from ourselves. We were made for union with God and one another. That’s why divorce or death or 2-year-olds saying goodbye at the park on their last play date hurts our hearts. It’s not the way it was meant to be.

We’re sad to announce that Redeemer Counseling is also saying goodbye to two of our therapists, Kim Trouten and Becky Valentine. Kim, who is actually Xander’s mom, gave birth to her second child, Zack, this month. She will be moving north with her husband who is pursuing a call to pastoral ministry within a church. They are looking forward to introducing their boys to the four seasons which they have missed while living in Orlando.

Becky is packing her bags next week and heading across country to Wenatchee, Washington. She is a mountain girl, and her heart has longed to be back on the west coast where she grew up. She will be joining a team of Christian counselors to continue providing soul care to individuals and couples.

While we are so excited for the new adventures God has for Kim and Becky, we will miss them dearly, both professionally and personally. They are good woman, who love God and care for others well. I am tempted to talk about the new therapists that will be joining us this summer (and they’re great, but more on that at a later time). Instead, I’ll take my wife’s advice and sit in the loss of these very fine therapists and two wild and adorable boys. By doing so, my heart hurts, but I also find my heart more expanded and grateful to the One who is the giver of every good gift.

Vulnerability: Beauty in the Midst of Adversity

by Kim Trouten, M.A.

I enjoy jewelry.  I especially like big, chunky and colorful necklaces that add a pop of color to my outfits.  But one of my favorite and most meaningful pieces is not big or chunky or colorful but is rather small and doesn’t make much of a statement.  It is a 1”x1” picture of red flowers on branch hung on a simple wire loop.

It is handmade by an artist in California utilizing Japanese art and techniques.  On its own it’s beautiful, but it carries a deeper meaning.   When I bought it, the artist shared with me that the tree branch with red flowers is called winter plum and to the Japanese it symbolizes beauty in the midst of adversity.  The tree blooms when the weather is hard and frigid.  The blooms thrive when the world seems dead, hostile, even.  There is no other sign of life around the tree but yet it blooms, its beauty sounding like a bell in a silent world.

Beauty in the midst of adversity has become a precious phrase to me.  It gives my heart a picture of what it means to flourish as a tender yet strong woman in an often harsh world.  But what is this beauty in a woman that can grow in the midst of adversity?  I believe it is the paradoxical strength of vulnerability.

In her book Strong Women, Soft Hearts Paula Rinehart defines vulnerability as “that paradoxical place where you discover the strength God has placed in you by actually risking the pain you would normally run from—especially in close relationships.”  Vulnerability literally means “able to be wounded,” which seems to have nothing to do with our usual ideas of strength.  We all have a difficult person or situation in our lives that causes us continued pain.  It could be a bank account that’s always hovering near zero, a lingering illness or health problem, a husband who is difficult or impossible to connect with, parents whom you only seem to disappoint, children who want nothing to do with you, a miscarriage or being left out of a group.

To be vulnerable in these situations means to “voluntarily place yourself, for the sake of a larger purpose, in a situation that could bring pain.  You see something at stake—your own spiritual growth or someone else’s—and you are willing to risk your heart in a vulnerable way.”  It takes courage to be vulnerable and share your heart.  It may mean telling a friend, co-worker or relative how they impact you.  It might mean interrupting your husband’s video game to share a low point in your day and hoping he listens and responds with care and sensitivity.

To do this requires us to be aware of our desires and feelings, which can be scary, excruciating even.  We have to ask ourselves such questions as What do I really feel about this situation?  What do I think?  We allow our dreams, fears, needs and losses to matter and this takes courage.  Taking time to know our own hearts isn’t selfish but part of a process that allows us to more wholly offer ourselves to others in love.  How can I deepen a relationship if I don’t know how I feel about it?  Your feelings may be the very instrument that God uses to draw someone closer to him as they see the impact of their sin or mistake.  Or by simply sharing your own need (sharing your heart isn’t always about telling others how they hurt you) you allow someone else the opportunity to give of themselves.

I wish I could tell you that if you become aware of how you feel in a difficult situation and then offer your feelings that the other person/people will respond with understanding, gentleness or a willingness to help.  I wish I could guarantee that for you.  Sometimes that does happen, but sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes it all blows up or falls flat and you feel worse than before.  You feel shame in your gut from their response.  How others receive our vulnerability feels huge.  And it is a big deal to our hearts at first.  But over time the response we get is secondary.  “Real success is measured only by the courage it takes to do and say what needs to be done or said.  Strength becomes the amount of vulnerability you can offer.  What it comes down to, essentially, is this: What will you do with your heart, even if no one understands or offers validation?  Will you honor your heart with the dignity God does—regardless of how you are met by others?”

Vulnerability is the beauty in the mist of adversity that we are called to.  It is tenderness, openness, courage and strength all combined in our hearts and offered to others in the face of daunting circumstances.  May God give us the grace to boldly pursue it.

Hope for the Guilt-Ridden Heart

by Becky Valentine, M.A.

We have all been there. We’ve said something we regret, made a thoughtless comment, or behaved badly. Afterward, the memory of our reproachable behavior rolls around in our heads in an unrelenting, repetitive loop. In an effort to alleviate our shame, we rework the event to create a different imaginary ending, a better ending—any ending other than the one we chose. But it does no good. We are buried under a landslide of guilt and appalled in the face of our profound failure.

Guilt is powerful. It can alert us to problems in our lives and relationships. It can provoke us to action. It can also hang on us like old Marley’s chains, send us into hiding, or even masquerade as remorse so the path to change and growth is obscured from sight.

So, what is the scoop with guilt? Is it good or bad? Is it from God? Maybe so, but I have a feeling it is not where God intends for us to live. Instead, I believe our Heavenly Father calls us to walk with him down a much more hopeful path—the unlikely path of godly sorrow.

What is the difference between guilt and godly sorrow? Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend differentiate the two in terms of four categories:

1. The Subject—on whom we are focused

2. Time—on what point in time we are concentrating

3. Resolution—how we solve our guilt problem

4. View of God—how we see God when we fail

Guilt

1. Guilt bends us inward. It keeps us focused on “me” and it functions to disconnect “me” from others. Like Adam and Eve, we hide and blame when faced with our own sin. Hiding and blaming always, always, always cut us off from relationship. It is impossible to experience forgiveness or offer love when we feel guilty. The very best we can do from this position is try to salvage our reputation.

2. Guilt keeps us locked in the past. In this place, we ruminate on a bad, unalterable thing we did. Our heart is like the Dead Sea—murky and void of fresh solutions. We marinate in the muck of past failures and wonder why can’t reinvent ourselves despite our sincere vows to do things differently.

3. Guilt leads us to believe we deserve punishment. When we feel guilty, our tendency is to beat ourselves up in hopes of evoking lasting change. Self-condemnation is a splendid way to find temporary relief from an accusing conscience. But it is not transformational.

4. Guilt sees God as a punitive judge who is waiting for us to screw up. We become adversarial, tight-fisted and defensive when we feel guilty. We may feel unlovable, beyond hope, or even self-righteous. It is very hard to receive forgiveness or experience joy in God’s presence when we are pounded by guilt. We are trying too hard to protect ourselves.

Godly Sorrow

1. Godly sorrow, on the other hand, focuses on “us” (you and me) and how our actions affect each other. This is a humble, vulnerable stance—and it is very unnatural. When we truly admit how we have hurt someone, we naturally feel shocked and ashamed. Godly sorrow reverses the effect of guilt by turning us outward to God and his great mercy. This heavenly sadness heightens our longing for reconciliation and calls us to deeper levels of healing. It awakens the ache in our hearts for things to be set right. We ache not merely because we are ashamed, but because we hurt another soul and relationship has been broken. 

2. Godly sorrow invites us to be mindful of the present. It also gives us hope for the future. When we grieve honestly over the damage we have caused, it frees us to admit our need for a new solution that comes from someplace outside ourselves. It prompts us to turn to God, open our hands, and ask his Spirit to transform us. We are not condemned to repeat the past. Instead, we have fresh hope for a different future.

3. Godly sorrow leads to grief over the pain we have inflicted. It is honest without being self-accusatory. Unlike guilt, which drives us to hide, blame or condemn ourselves, this divine sadness turns us outward to look into the eyes of Jesus and the person we have harmed. Godly sorrow opens the door for forgiveness, reconciliation, and inner healing.

4. Godly sorrow is our response to God when we know how dearly he loves us. It is hard to admit the full reality of our sinfulness until we feel safely held in love. Godly sorrow enables us to climb into the arms of our gracious Father, and then gives us the strength to hear his voice as divine Judge. We can open our clenched fists to receive forgiveness because we know his goal is not to shame us, but to heal our relationships and restore hope.

Choosing a Path

On what path do you tend to travel? Is your bent toward shame or sorrow? If you identify with the description of guilt, my guess is that you are feeling really guilty about your guilt right now. Take heart. You are not alone. Lift your head. There is hope! Beneath the shame, there is a beautiful desire to be fully known and wholly loved despite your faults and failings. Start by asking God to reveal his loving kindness toward you (Psalm 103). Enlist his help in answering the question: “How is guilt keeping me from being known and loved?” Lastly, take courage. The narrow path of godly sorrow doesn’t lead downward to infinite sadness. Rather, it leads up and outward to freedom and joy.

“Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.” (Ecclesiastes 7:3)

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4)

Q and A with Dave Stelling

by Rachel Blackston, M.A., M. Ed.

We are very excited to be adding Dave Stelling to our team of therapists at Redeemer Counseling.  Dave has a vast array of experience in ministry and counseling.  In 2004, he graduated from Reformed Theological Seminary with his Master’s degree in Counseling.  Last week, I asked Dave a few questions so you can hear more of his heart.

Rachel: Tell me how you got into the field of counseling.

Dave:  After 15 years of working in campus ministry with Cru I recognized that getting some professional counseling training would help me in the work I was doing with college students and Cru staff.

R: What do you love about your job as a therapist?

D: I love helping families and marriages that are experiencing conflict.  I love it when change happens in people’s hearts and reconciliation occurs.

R: What are your specialty areas?

D: My first love is working with couples and families.  I also enjoy working with teenagers that are in conflict with their parents.

R: Tell us about your family.

D: I have been married to my wife Doreen for 23 years.  She is my best friend and partner in life and my work.  We both have similar values and calling for our lives.  We have 3 children.  My daughters are 21 and 18 and are college students and work jobs part time.  My son is 15 and now taller than me!  He is a very good football player and someday hopes to play college football.

R: What do you like to do with your free time?

D: I enjoy many sports both as an activity and as a fan.  I regularly play tennis, basketball and racquetball.  I also enjoy going to the gym with my wife and taking walks with her.  Because I work with people, I do like my alone time reading, reflecting and sitting out by the pool.

Helpless

by Kim Trouten, M.A.

Lately I find myself being “that woman” in public. That woman whose life seems a mess, and you either feel pity for her or wonder why she can’t get it together. That woman with a crying baby in one arm and the contents of her purse falling out in the other. That woman who looks like she hasn’t showered in a few days (and probably hasn’t).

Today it was a pretty small incident. I was at Chick-fil-a for lunch with my toddler. I had him on my right hip, and our tray of food in my left hand. As I wove through the lunch crowd to find a seat, my drink tipped over on the tray and spilled on me and the floor. I put the tray down on a random person’s table, attempting to grab my drink before it all came out. The mess had the potential to get even bigger within seconds. That is when I had that familiar feeling of being “that woman” again. Causing a mess. Out of control.

I was relieved and thankful when a man nearby grabbed my tray and asked, “Where would you like to sit?” Thank you, kind man. “We’ll sit over there by the window,” I replied. Thank you, kind man, for stepping into my small mess and helping me in a practical way. Thank you for not sitting there watching me struggle. Thank you for your kindness that blessed my usually overwhelmed heart.

Since having a kid I’ve had the opportunity to experience the kindness of strangers more than I ever have in my life. Being a mom means being vulnerable in countless ways. Each day my capacity reaches its limit, sometimes at home, sometimes in public, usually both. It’s made me appreciate the small kindnesses of an opened door, a hand to pick up something dropped or a pair of feet to fetch something I needed.

Before becoming a mom I carefully guarded against needing help from anyone, let alone strangers. I guess it’s God’s sense of loving irony that the blessing of having children means that I’m in a position to receive more than I ever would have been comfortable. Ironic because I think I’m supposed to be more competent than ever but find myself facing my incompetency every day. I’m still not comfortable being “that woman”, but I am thankful for the kindness I experience because of it penetrates all the more deeply.

Lazarus Moments

by Becky Valentine, M.A.

I awoke this morning to a horrible story in the news about a man who was swallowed by a sinkhole that opened beneath his bedroom before dawn while he slept. The interview with his brother who tried to rescue him was heartbreaking. The man could not be saved. His brother recounted the scene—the screams from within the vanishing earth, and the desperate, futile clawing at the soil and debris. I can hardly think of a more terrifying way to die, or to see one die.

Instantly, my thoughts turned inward, to potential sinkholes in my heart. I have dropped through the floor a few times in life. Each time, it felt like death. And, indeed, some parts of me did die. It is truly terrifying to experience the collapse of one’s own soul. When God seems absent at best, malicious at worst, but for all intents and purposes dangerous and untrustworthy, where do we go? In whom, or in what do we trust? Are we without hope as the dead man who disappeared while sleeping? It feels like it.

And yet, at the risk of spouting clichés, these descents into darkness have the potential to be our Lazarus moments. As believers in Christ, we can know that falling into a pit is not where the story ends. Whether the sinkhole is of our own making, or one caused by someone else, Jesus does not intend to leave us in the grave.

God is, in fact, at work in several ways. He “redeems us from the pit with love and compassion” (Psalm 103:4) when our worlds collapse. And he seeks to strengthen our relationship with him by “rooting and grounding us in love “(Ephesians 3:17) so we won’t fall through the floor the next time the earth moves.

When our foundations give way beneath us, it is a frightening and disorienting experience. Often, the circumstances cause us to doubt God’s tenderness and compassion toward us. We are easily disillusioned. But where there is disillusionment, there is hope! We don’t have to claw at the soil and debris with futility forever.

In his book The Lazarus Life, Stephen W. Smith says, “disillusionment is normally used in a negative context as in being disappointed and in despair about something. But disillusionment has the potential of being a positive experience.” He goes on to say that “illusions breed false hope and false life.” The man who died this morning went to sleep last night in his bedroom with the illusion that the ground beneath him was solid. That turned out to be a false hope. Disillusionment—in this case, learning the truth about the sinkhole before he went to sleep—would have saved his life.

The first time I recall really falling through the floor, I was in my late 20’s. The illusion by which I was living included a piece of a lie that seemed very much like truth when I first believed it as a child (i.e. a sinkhole waiting to happen). The illusion was this: I want to please God more than anything in the world. Obeying God pleases him. Even if I have to die a horrible death, I will choose to follow Jesus forever (I was very dramatic as a 7-year-old when I first made this vow). This will please God and he will certainly love me. However, as I grew, I encountered a big problem: No matter how hard I try, I cannot stop sinning. That is disobedience. I am unable to please God. I am disgusted with myself. God must be disgusted too. If God is disgusted, there is no hope. I am unlovable.

That is when the sinkhole of clinical depression opened up inside me. I was swallowed by a deep and pervasive despair that felt like death. But it was a death that ultimately led to life. My understanding of the Gospel was flawed. In an effort to please God, I missed knowing him. Had I known him, I would have realized that his love was unrelenting and did not hinge on my performance. There was a massive hole in my soul, void of God’s abiding love and presence. So, my life was sucked into blackness. Yet it was in the depths, when I felt the most unlovable, that I discovered God’s love. A Lazarus moment! I did not stay in the tomb.

Since that time, I have learned to tend to my soul more compassionately and to ask God to reveal hollow places in my heart where his love has not yet touched, changed or filled me. I am learning to welcome the Spirit’s probes as well as his renovation crew (my community, the body of Christ) as God works on strengthening my foundation. It can hurt. It can be scary. But the disruption is eventually welcomed because I know now that pain and disillusionment are doorways to a deeper, richer relationship with my Heavenly Father.

The news this morning was tragic. But through it, God offered a reminder: He loves us too much to sing us to sleep with the illusion of safety when we are actually in danger. He will risk our fury by awakening us to the threat of unaddressed sin that has the power to engulf us. He will allow us to experience the death of a false hope and even disrupt our sense of security so he can tend to unhealed wounds. He will dig around, poking at shaky spots in our foundation to unearth the ways we hide from his love or live shackled by fear. And even if (when) a sinkhole opens up and we fall inside, we are not lost. God’s love extends beneath the abyss. Just like Lazarus, we are brought from death to life.

What a Father Plants in His Son

by J. Michael Blackston, M.A.

“Every moment and every event of every man’s life on earth plants something in his soul.” –Thomas Merton

The other day I took my daughter to the park.  While on the swings, I noticed the arrival of a father with his two children, a girl around 8 years old and her brother a few years younger.  The kids excitedly ran to the swing set.  It was a different story for the dad, however.  He sat on a bench mostly talking on his cell phone.  His body language clearly communicated he didn’t want to be there. I could tell the boy really wanted to play with his dad.  The more the boy asked his dad to play, the more irritable the father became.  Eventually, the boy stopped asking.

As a therapist, I naturally began to wonder about the father.  Why was he so annoyed by the boy’s desire to connect?  Maybe it had been one of those long mornings where the children’s energy level was too much to handle, and he needed a break.  I get that.  It happens some days.

But maybe it was something more.  The boy eventually caught on.  He stopped asking from his dad and went about his play, seemingly unaffected.  I wondered what would become of that boy.  In twenty years, he most likely won’t have any memory of that interaction at the park with his father.  But, I think that event–and repeated events like it–plants something in his being.

He may land in a therapist’s office as an adult.  Maybe he’ll come because the pressure at work is impeding his ability to function, and he feels a constant level of anxiety.  As he processes the pressure, he shares that he lives with a nagging sense of inadequacy and fear that he will be exposed as incompetent.  The man has foggy memories about his father but clearly remembers never feeling his dad’s approval.

I believe more men than not carry around wounds from their fathers.  We ignore the wounds or minimize them or deny them altogether.  They are disguised, but they are there nonetheless.  The disguises are often very clever.  The wounds hide themselves in the empty bottle of beer or the vow to not look at pornography again.  They hide in the CEO’s need for constant success or a husband’s critical responses to his wife.

Acknowledging this father wound to yourself and others is a difficult but necessary step.  The goal is not to blame our fathers.  Many of them did the best they knew how.  We acknowledge our wounds so that we can heal.  Also, if we don’t do this critical inner work, we are likely to hurt others, particularly those closest to us.  But, if we do, a different seed will be planted in a man’s heart–one of courage and true masculinity that will set us free to live more fully, to love more boldly.

Treasures of Darkness

by Becky Valentine, M.A.

Take a moment to think about a seed. What comes to mind? Maybe you think of how it symbolizes the birth of a great idea. You may have a memory of a toothpick-pierced avocado pit sprouting from a cup in your kitchen window. The parable of the mustard seed may pop into your mind. Or, if you just ate a poppy-seed bagel, there is a good chance you are wondering if you successfully sucked all the tiny black specks out of your teeth.

All these seeds have something in common. Each holds the promise of life. And though not all seeds must be buried in soil in order to sprout, most require the dark embrace of a hidden place for life to take root and grow.

In his book, A Timbered Choir, The Sabbath Poems, poet and author Wendell Berry writes:

          The seed is in the ground.

          Now may we rest in hope

          While darkness does its work.

I love this little verse. I think it is my favorite in this whole collection because it so beautifully describes a part of the growth process that most of us desperately try to avoid—seasons of darkness.

We like to see where we are going. We like to know what’s going on. We really like the illusion of being in control. We tend to equate darkness with evil. And beside all that, we are terribly uncomfortable with waiting – especially when we are suffering, confused or afraid.

And yet God asks us to rest in hope, to rest in Him at all times including the times when our vision is obscured. When we do, we can actually welcome the Mystery knowing that God does some of his best work in the dark.

It’s true, you know. God really does do some of his best work in the dark. In Genesis we learn that God created the endless universe from “beneath the hovering darkness.” Pearls are shaped while hidden from light. A chrysalis conceals a squirmy caterpillar as it transforms and is reborn as a completely different creature. A child is conceived and grows within a mother’s womb and waits in darkness to be fully formed.

And then there is the tomb.

So how do we “rest in hope while darkness does its work?” Followers of God have wrestled with this question throughout the ages. There is no easy answer. I certainly don’t have the answer. But that is one reason for why I am drawn to the lines above by Wendell Berry. When the apostle Paul assures us that God will be faithful to complete the good work he has begun in our hearts (Philippians 1:6), I believe one of the things he longs for us to understand is that we have LIFE within us—the Seed, who is Christ in us. It is in Christ that we find rest and hope knowing that God cannot only see when we cannot (Psalm 139:11-12), but that at times his transformative work actually requires darkness.

When we are buried in the depths of our sorrow, anger, confusion or just plain uncertainty, he invites us to look inward with hope and certainty that his Seed is in our hearts. Life will return. His resurrection power is at work—especially in the dark.

Creating Beauty: The Heart of a Woman

by Kim Trouten, M.A.

A 2006 Time magazine poll reports that women own an average of 27 pairs of shoes, and men own an average of 12 pairs.  In our house, it is 23 and 5 respectively.  Is it just a coincidence that most women have more pairs of shoes than men, or is there something to this?  I believe this small feature of our wardrobes can provide a glimpse into the magnificent glory of God that’s present in women.

I often fall asleep at night composing my outfit for the next day in my head.  I like to think of new ways to combine shirts and pants to make a new and interesting outfit.  I get a thrill when I come up with a combination that I haven’t tried before.  The shoes I wear with the outfit are an essential part.  They often provide a pop of color or help pull the outfit together.  Today, I am wearing a navy shirt with white jeans and bright yellow necklace and sandals.  I enjoyed taking a few minutes to consider how to make a plain navy shirt special.  Our desire for beauty and creativity reflects God’s creativity and the delight that He takes in his creation.  “Walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers.  They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it?” Matthew 6:28-9.  “God looked over everything he had made; it was so good, so very good!” Genesis 1:31.

Consider just a few examples of God’s concern for beauty, variety and creativity.  There are over 350,000 known species of beetles and probably millions more to be discovered (Science Daily, Dec. 26, 2007).   Millions more to be discovered!  Are you kidding me?  The sheer variety of beetles is staggering.  Besides being found on every continent except Antarctica, in every shape and size, beetles come in every color of the rainbow.  They are not the only such creatures on the planet.  Butterflies and birds, flowers and figs all come in multitudes of hues, patterns and designs.  Each one uniquely designed by God.  His care for beauty and creativity are on display.  This enormous earth that God created is not monotonous.  I suppose he could have made 5 types of trees, birds, bugs and fish to cover the earth.  But he did not.  He went far beyond that.  He went so far as to create a staggering number of insects that most people will never even see in their lifetime.  God is that creative.

In one of my favorite movies, Sleepless in Seattle, the main character Sam, played by Tom Hanks is trying to describe what made his late wife special.  He says, “She made everything beautiful.”  I believe that the desire to make things beautiful lies within the heart of every woman and is at the core of what it means for women to reflect God’s image.  Deep within every woman is the desire to unleash her creativity to make something in her world beautiful. It is her desire to make something beautiful, lovely, attractive, or enticing that reflects the character of God.  It is an attention to beauty and details that gives people pleasure.  In her heart, a woman has tremendous capacity to see what is not and imagine what might become.  Every woman is a dreamer.  Women, what are your dreams?  What do you long to create?  I bet it’s beautiful.

Healing from Sexual Betrayal: The Gift of Vulnerability

by Rachel Blackston, M.A., M. Ed.

Several years ago, a client came to me for counseling.  Laura*, a mother of two children, had been married for 6 years.  One day while paying bills online, she stumbled upon a sexually explicit email between her husband Allen and one of his coworkers.  This soon led to the shocking discovery that Allen was involved in a sexual relationship with a woman from work and had been looking at pornography since the first year of their marriage.  I will never forget the look on Laura’s face as she described these events to me in detail.  It was a look of horror and fear.

Unfortunately, I have heard countless heart-wrenching accounts of women–like Laura–who have endured the pain of sexual betrayal.  A recent statistic reports 1 in 4 marriages will be impacted by infidelity.  Discovering that your spouse has been unfaithful can feel like you have been hit head-on by a drunk driver.  Feelings of shock, panic, and anger rise up in the initial hours as your marriage feels like a pile of wrangled sheet metal surrounded by shards of glass, but it may take months, even years, to feel the full weight of the damage to your heart and soul.  Not only do you feel the agony of being deceived, but you may also begin to blame yourself.  If only I was prettier or sexier then my husband wouldn’t have done this.  The betrayal feels incredibly personal when you are hurt by the one who has been called to love, cherish and protect your heart–despite the fact most men report their sexual addiction is more related to their own feelings of inadequacy, anger, or powerlessness.  Tragically, the woman feels an incredible amount of shame and may be tempted to keep the situation a secret from close friends and family.

When I meet with women who have been through this heartbreak, I encourage them to let their hearts be vulnerable to the pain and allow themselves to feel the full weight of the betrayal. They must not do this alone.  Having a trusted support system is essential—whether a reliable friend, an experienced therapist, or a support group of other women who have experienced infidelity or who are married to sex addicts.  These relationships can offer much needed support and hope.

Many women respond to their feelings of anger, hurt and powerlessness by trying to grasp for some sort of control. They may want to hire a private investigator, install hidden cameras, or research inpatient programs for sexual addiction for their spouse. While these options may be valid, they may also keep the betrayed spouse from facing her emotional pain. The betrayed spouse must come to the realization that, in order for true healing to occur, the offending spouse must take ownership over his own healing process. Whether or not your husband seeks healing is beyond your control, but allowing your heart to be vulnerable before God and other safe people is a crucial step in the recovery process.

On the other hand, some women may want to skip over the healing process by moving too quickly to forgiveness in order to resume the life they once knew.   Women in this situation must surrender to what they thought their marriage was before having the hope of reconciliation.  Short cutting the healing process does not benefit anyone.  In fact, research shows this can increase the likelihood that the situation will reoccur.  The offending spouse must acknowledge and empathize with the other’s pain.  One of the greatest gifts a woman can give her spouse is her honest emotions.  A man who struggled with sexual addiction once told me after hearing his wife’s hurt and tears, “I didn’t know how much my actions impacted her and how much I mattered to her.”

If you are a woman who has experienced a betrayal, take comfort in knowing God invites you to bring the pain of your heart to him. The psalmist says, “I am worn out from my groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears.” No one knows the pain of betrayal more closely than Jesus who was deceived by those closest to him.  Your broken heart is very dear to the God who loves you. As David says in Psalm 34, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed.”  While it may be tempting to try to take control of the situation or avoid the pain by offering a quick forgiveness, it takes a brave woman to enter the pain of this betrayal and bring your honest emotions to God and trust that He will bring beauty out of the broken pieces.   A compassionate response to sexual addiction does not mean shortcutting the recovery process for either spouse.  Hope and healing are available to couples impacted by these issues.

For additional resources for men and women impacted by sexual addiction and sexual betrayal, visit our online bookstore.

*Names and details have been altered to protect confidentiality.  While this article addresses women as the betrayed spouse, sexual addiction is not exclusive to men.  Many women struggle in this area as well. 

What's In a Name?

by J. Michael Blackston, M.A.

The moment is still etched in my mind.  It was the 4th of March, the day our daughter was born.  For anyone who has witnessed the miracle of birth, it is hard to find adequate words to describe such an experience.  Worship. Joy. Wonder.  While this experience will stay with me, this is not the moment that haunts me.  It is the one that occurred about three hours later.  Friends and family had come and gone, we settled into the room we would call home for the next few days, and the nurse had just completed a check of the baby’s vitals.  “Get some sleep,” the nurse said.  “I’ll be back to check on her in a few hours.”  It was midnight, and Rachel was exhausted.  She had just labored with determination and sheer beauty for close to 17 hours.  She quickly fell asleep while I reclined on a chair with our beautiful girl sleeping soundly on my chest.  And then, as I stared at both of them, it hit me.  “She’s ours…she really is ours—what a good gift from God.”  To appreciate this gift—who we named Hannah—you must know more of the context, more of the backdrop.  To know Hannah and the meaning of her name, you must first know her story.

The desire for a baby began almost four years earlier. Initially, Rachel and I thought it would take just a few months, but after the first few pregnancy tests were negative, we began to fear.  What if we cannot get pregnant?  Is God punishing us for something?  What if He does not want us to have a child?  Month after month, as I saw the crushing disappointment in Rachel’s face, my fear turned to anger.  I demanded answers.  Why? Why, God?  Why can’t my life work the way I want it to?  Yet, even in my demanding questions, I knew God was up to something.  He always is.  Psychologist Dan Allender writes, “Tragedy always moves our story forward.”  Sometimes life just does not work.  We are hit with tragedy—both big and small.  You discover your husband’s infidelity or addiction to Internet pornography.  You get the 2 a.m. phone call with news that your teenager has been arrested for drug possession.  You wonder if there is more to life than getting through the mundane workweek–only to find it is Monday again.  You long for a child but are met with persistent rejection.

For us, the months turned to years.  We wrestled with God, shed tears of longing and grief, and tried hard to surrender to His plan.   Just when we thought we were surrendered, a new surge of anger or grief would surface.  Friends encouraged us and discouraged us in their attempts to make sense of the situation.  And then, after more than 36 months of resounding nos, we got a yes.  We laughed, partly because we knew we hadn’t deserved it.  It had been one of those months we doubted, closed our hearts to hope, resigned ourselves to self-protection.  But isn’t that how God so often works—He meets us when we feel we least deserve it?  Hannah’s name, which means gracious, is rooted in the barren Hannah of the Scriptures.  She was a strong woman, one who persistently pleaded her case before God for a child.  Many in her time thought she was mad, even a drunk, but this did not stop her from praying her deepest desire.  The story does not say how long she waited, but we do know that eventually God answered Hannah’s prayer with the blessing of her son, Samuel.

But the stories of our lives do not always turn out so good, do they?  You may find yourself in a situation filled with disappointment, loss, or hopelessness and wonder why or how you should keep your heart alive with desire and hope.  Yet we as humans are hope-filled creatures.  No matter what the adversity, we cannot kill the hope that is within us.  It is an innate part of who we are as image bearers of God.  Last October, Rachel and I started a new chapter in our story when the doors to Redeemer Counseling opened.  Just like Hannah’s name, the name Redeemer is birthed out of our belief that God longs to bring healing and hope to every life marred by the inescapable brokenness of this life.  We sometimes get glimpses of His redemption, like the moment I sat holding Hannah on the day of her birth when “all is good in the world.”  We also still wait–sometimes patiently and sometimes not so patiently–for Him to restore other places in our lives.  Do you know the unique stories God has given you?  What about the unique names of your stories?  Discovering them is risky and requires you to discover the plot, the triumphs, the tragedies, and the characters that accompany every good tale.  Indeed, the adventure is paved with uncertainty, but you soon may find yourself caught up in the much bigger Story and the great Author behind it all.