God Groans, Hope Heals

contributed by Jacqueline Larraga

Please note: This article contains references to suicide.

I found out on Easter Monday that a counselee I worked with years ago took her life. There are simply times when words fail. What do we say? What do we pray? What does God say? I have been ministered to by three different places in God’s word this week as I have mourned with those who mourn.

Psalm 88 is a surprising psalm, especially for those who, like me, are not from faith traditions that sing through the Psalter. These are God’s words for God’s people to sing corporately. I read the Psalms on repeat, and when I land here again, I am always surprised at how honest, raw, and without immediate resolution they are.

“I am overwhelmed with troubles
    and my life draws near to death.

I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am like one without strength.

I am set apart with the dead,
    like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
    who are cut off from your care.”

Psalm 88:3-5

These words were true for the people of Israel, true for the church, but as Christopher Ash points out in his commentary on the Psalms, they reach the peak of their fulfillment in the mouth of Christ. He is the Man of Sorrows. He knows.

I’ve also been reminded of Romans 8:26-27:

“The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”

It is comforting to me that God the Spirit, who has command of every language, groans for his children to God the Father, to God the Son. He is groaning for a believing family as they sit, still reeling with the unexpectedness and depth of their loss, groaning with them as they grieve.

As I have walked with my own family and friends and also with women in the counseling space this past week, I’ve been especially mindful to ask God to work and will and, yes, intercede for them because I am again reminded of how often I do not “know what to pray for as I ought.” And I am asking him to do things in them that will be light to them when it is very dark.

Finally, in reflecting on hearing the Easter story again this past week, I was moved by my pastor’s description of Peter’s grief turned to joy. He recounted Peter’s failure and inevitable regret, imagined his thoughts, “I didn’t want it to end this way.” And it didn’t. And because of the empty tomb…still empty this week, some two thousand years later, it doesn’t have to end that way for us either. God help us believe that resurrection means something for all the places in our lives that seem beyond hope. God, help me trust that you are always at work in the dark, even when I can’t see.

Easter Hope in the Arghandab Valley—A reflection on Psalm 121

contributed by Reggie Fuller

Every year around this time, my mind drifts to the celebrations of Holy Week that I’ve experienced. Especially the one where my life was being threatened. I, along with a small contingent from my infantry unit, had been on patrol for about a week in the Arghandab Valley in Afghanistan. As the sun began to rise on that Easter morning, I thought of my wife and knew that she would be driving to church to rejoice in the risen Christ. I wanted to be home. I was nearing the end of a lengthy military career. I was weary and anxious. I was ready for the next installment of God’s plan for my life.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?” Psalm 121:1

In a place like the Arghandab Valley, the hills are not just scenery. They are places of vigilance, danger, and memory. You scan them because you have to. You remember what came from them. Peril is both expected and yet still unexpected. Pilgrims heading to Jerusalem could certainly relate to threats, and the Psalm meets us right there, not by denying fear but by redirecting it.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:2

This Psalm is not a cliché reassurance; it is a reorientation of reality. The psalmist does not look inward for strength, nor outward to circumstances for control. He looks upward to a sovereign, covenant-keeping God.

This redirection matters deeply for the soul shaped by trauma, anxiety, or moral injury.

Because what Psalm 121 confronts is the illusion of self-sufficiency:

• If I stay alert enough, I’ll be safe.

• If I manage my thoughts perfectly, I won’t spiral.

• If I carry this alone, I can control it.

Nice try, but Scripture gently dismantles that:

“He who keeps you will not slumber.” (v. 3)

You are not the one holding everything together. God is.

And then Easter speaks.

The resurrection of Christ is the ultimate proof that the Keeper of Israel does not fail. The God who “does not sleep” watched over His Son, even through death and separation from Himself, and raised Him in power. That means your safety is not defined by what you can prevent, but by what God has already secured.

In counseling terms, this reshapes both fear and identity:

• Fear is no longer ultimate—it is real, but it is not sovereign.

• Control is exposed as limited—but you are not abandoned.

• Identity is no longer “the one who must hold it together,” but “the one who is kept.”

Not partially. Not temporarily. Not dependent on your performance.

“The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”

On Pollen and Humility. Or, How I Learned the Truth of 1 Peter 5:3-8 the Hard Way

contributed by Jacqueline Larraga

All of you clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your cares on him, because he cares about you.

1 Peter 5:3-8 CSB

It has been almost twenty-five years since I lived in seminary housing at Southeastern (SEBTS) in Wake Forest, North Carolina. I was not the student in those days, but I was learning a lot. It must have been this time of the year because I remember walking to the playground with my blonde pig-tailed two-year-old and being baffled that the metal slide was covered in yellow dust. “Is there a sulfur plant near here?” Ahhhh… the introduction of pollen to a native Texan who grew up wondering what all those allergy med commercials on TV were for. “Northerners who aren’t as tough as we are, I suppose.” Ahem. The ignorance of youth.

I wish my ignorance and arrogance were limited to my lack of understanding of spring allergens. (And sulfur plants undoubtedly.) But, of course, they weren’t. I was in the midst of a long season of confusing suffering. A foundational belief that made my suffering more acute was misunderstanding the way God works in the world. I had thought that if I was a “good girl,” things would go well for me. I thought that’s how God treated people. I was not unexposed to suffering as a child, and I had read read through the book of Job, but somehow it was still really easy for me to interpret people’s suffering through the lens of what I perceived as their failure. I aimed to do better and assumed I would receive better. I was both ignorant and arrogant. In, Suffering and Heart of God: How Trauma Destroys and How God Restores, Diane Langberg describes it this way:

Our egocentricity says to us, “You have experienced these things because you have “_____,”—not been responsible, not loved your spouse well, not made moral choices, etc. Implicit is the idea that if they did what we did, made similar choices to ours, or behaved well, then injustice would not be present in their lives. If someone is downtrodden or oppressed, it is probably their fault.” (p. 17)

But there I was, experiencing “these things” even though I’d checked the right boxes. Something to note in 1 Peter 5:3-8 that I am certain I could not see clearly at the time is that while God humbles his children, He does not humiliate them. His response to our humility is lifting us up, showing us favor, and caring for us. This informs how we can care for friends, family members, and others we seek to serve who are brought low by their suffering: seek to understand their situation from a place of humility, gently encourage them to seek God’s perspective of their situation, remind them that God cares for them, and point them towards the hope that as they trust and obey, God has promised to lift them up, “at the proper time.”

As a young believer, I was quick to assign blame when I encountered certain types of suffering. I did that with myself, and I did it with others. Sorrow did not soften my stance on sin, but it did humble me and help me be slower to make assumptions until I know someone’s story more deeply and understand the context of their lives well enough to discern what biblical commands speak into their situation. It is one of the many places we can see God’s wisdom given to us in his instruction, “Clothe yourselves with humility toward one another.” For my part, the pollen on my windshield in spring always reminds me to dress myself with with that humility.

Hope and Anticipation

contributed by Berry Hudson

Do you enjoy looking forward to things? Maybe it’s the anticipation of going to a restaurant you have heard is really good or visiting a new city or a national park you have never seen before. It can be a lot of fun to go “all in" on anticipation. You look at the menu before you visit the restaurant to see what you might order, or you look up all the sites you might visit at the new destination. It is not a coincidence that we do this. Neurological research shows that there is a unique “anticipatory dopamine” release when we look forward to something. This “feel good” part of our brain chemistry means that looking forward to something causes us to experience pleasure as we anticipate pleasure. This effect can be so powerful that Seven Habits of Highly Effective People author Stephen Covey would organize his family life so that they would all consistently have some anticipated fun event to anticipate. This was not by accident. He knew the power it could have to create positive experiences and motivation in those whom he loved. To cultivate a positive anticipation means we can turn a fun day into a week of excitement. There is a lot to like about this life strategy. God has clearly designed us to be people who live in anticipation of good things. In fact, it’s hard to think about life in a way where we don’t look forward to things in some way.

There is a downside to this. We can have this part of our design manipulated by others who know how to create that response in us. Think about that the next time you find yourself doom scrolling or suddenly realize you’ve taken a four-hour online shopping trip. Those things don’t happen by accident. As well, we’ve all had the experience of looking forward to something that doesn’t quite live up to the anticipation we had. Maybe that excellent restaurant overcooked your entrée, or it rained all day on your visit to that place you thought would be so great to see. We can lose the ability to hope in anticipation.

Me (as a counselor): What is something you’ve enjoyed doing in the past?

Person (who wants me to help): I used to like to take walks early in the morning as the sun rises.

Me: That sounds like a great thing. How about taking one this Saturday?

Person: No, it’ll probably be too cold.

Me: Ok, what else have you enjoyed?

Person: I used to have fun hanging out with friends.

Me: That sounds like a fun thing to do this week.

Person: Not really, they’ll probably just talk about themselves all the time, and I'll just get annoyed.

We don’t have to be in a major depression to find it challenging to look forward to things that have not lived up to expectations. It happens. Hopeful anticipation can be a risky business.

Thankfully, Scripture has much to say about hope and anticipation in our lives and how to direct our hearts in the process.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work in us(Ephesians 3:20).

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him (Isa. 64:4/1 Cor. 2:9).

And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. (Rom 5:5)

There is no doubt we are called to live in anticipation of a good that is beyond our full understanding. God is working in our lives in ways that will not just meet expectations but make us desire a stronger ability to anticipate. The common ground of these verses is that each situation calls on Christian hope and anticipation to strengthen hearts and minds in faithful living in the middle of challenging circumstances. So, it’s not just a way to feel better now; it’s the path to know the greatest truth about who we are: we are designed for an eternal good that is better than the best good, the most enjoyable experience that we could ever imagine (2 Cor 4:17-18). C.S. Lewis says it well:

These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire, but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, or news from a country we have never visited.

In other words, Heaven. So, how do we put God’s truth to work in our lives? First, it is good for us to seek out goodthings to anticipate in life. It’s healthy and the way God has designed us. Find good experiences, healthy habits, interesting places, and quality relationships, and put in your best effort to enjoy them as fully as you can. If you find a great place to eat, make the most of every bite, which is not always easy to do. At the same time, let those things you anticipate and then experience point you toward what you are really designed to enjoy—God’s perfect presence and the world to come.

In Praise of Love and Fear

contributed by Berry Hudson

I lived for many years in a beach town. One of the constant warnings local officials gave to those who wanted to go for a swim in the ocean was to beware of rip currents. These strong currents were common with certain weather conditions and could carry a swimmer far off the coast despite the swimmer’s best efforts to swim against the current. Ironically, it was a healthy examination of a swimmer’s fear that was the difference between life and death. A well-used fear of these currents prepared swimmers to know that if they were caught in a rip tide, then they needed to think clearly enough to resist the natural inclination to swim toward the shore—useless against a powerful tide—and instead swim parallel to shore and out of the deadly current. How a swimmer dealt with the frightening experience of getting caught in danger determined everything.

Fear is never an enjoyable thing to experience in life. Physical danger aside, when it is the fear of some unsettling circumstance or the fear of losing a valued relationship, we don’t like it.  When we are in the midst of fear, the natural reaction we have is to make it go away as quickly as possible.  We look for safer ground. However, there is a redemptive way to use the fear we experience. In fact, it is through fear that God calls us toward himself and away from spiritual danger. In Religious Affections, Jonathan Edwards writes,

Fear and love are the two deep feelings that drive our lives. As one grows, the other diminishes. When we fall into selfishness, when our love falls asleep, we are exposed to spiritual danger; that is why God has wisely created us so that these two opposite feelings, love and fear, rise and fall in our hearts, like the two opposite scales of a balance; when one rises, the other sinks… Love is the spirit of adoption; it affirms the childlike inner person who is intimately connected to God. If we lose touch with this part of ourselves, we experience anxiety and a spirit of bondage; we become slaves to our selfish drives. drives. But when love, the spirit of adoption, grows in our hearts, it drives away all fear.

When we experience fear, a thoughtful examination of exactly what is making us so scared is a good move. What is it that we want that we are not getting? What aspect of our lives is in jeopardy? We often sense that “something’s not right” anxiety rising in us. This is exactly how God uses fear redemptively, for he is letting us face the darkness of losing sight of His love for us. The natural “drives” of our hearts move us to pursue things that seem good to us but in reality wall us off from Him and His purposes. It is that darkness that speaks to us and tells us not just to prop up that thing we fear losing, but to move back to a place of intimate connection with God. If we miss this, we get caught in the dangerous cycle of swimming hard against the current of our fears yet never escaping their control. We may work very hard yet never overcome the obstacle. It is not mainly our effort but our orientation that makes all the difference. We must find our direction back toward God. Our fears are often a gift of God—a severe mercy—to reveal the drift of our hearts. Fear teaches the superiority of God’s love for those over that thing we chase that promises life yet produces only worry and darkness.

So, the next time you sense fear rising in your life, don’t automatically choose the quickest path to make it go away. Instead, ask how this fear pushes you away from danger and back toward the “perfect love that drives out all fear.”

4 Ideas for Making the Most out of Counseling (Even if You’re Nervous)

Contributed by Jacqueline Larraga

I’ve sat on both sides of the counseling room, and it’s easy to remember the jumble of emotions and thoughts that run through your head that first counseling session. Whether you are walking into the room or tapping on a Zoom link, everyone enters counseling with his or her own set of concerns, expectations, hopes, and questions. Some of the more familiar ones are…

Will I be understood?

Will this work?

And perhaps, scariest of all…What if it doesn’t?

While I can’t answer all those questions, as a counselor, I can do my best to address some of the underlying fears.

One of the initial ways I seek to do this is by inviting my counselees to fill out a personal background questionnaire before we meet. I used to say that having this document in hand before the first appointment helps us to “hit the ground running.” I’ve adjusted how I describe that because what it really means is that both counselor and counselee can take a deep breath at the start of a conversation and know that we aren’t beginning from the beginning. For many, putting some of their story on paper before an appointment helps bring clarity. And on my end, every time I receive this document from someone I will be meeting with for the first time, I read it prayerfully beforehand, asking God to help me understand well and be ready to listen compassionately.

As a counselor, I want to honor the investment a woman I meet with is making. I know that often it’s not easy to share your story and ask for help. I know that there is an investment of time and resources. Besides these, I know that the practicalities of finding childcare, making sure the iPad is charged, taking time off work, or finding a quiet place in your schedule (or house!) are real costs. A pressing question for many is, “How can I make the most of this opportunity?” Here are some suggestions I’ve learned along the way that you might consider.

1. Be committed to counseling. Come to each session with as hopeful and humble a posture as you can, seeking to learn how God wants to offer you direction and comfort.

2. Be as open and honest as you can. I realize that talking about hard places in your life might be difficult and that feeling comfortable can take time. I’m honored to hear what you are ready to share. But the more honest you can be, the better we will both see how God might want to speak into your life.

3. Be patient (with me, with yourself, and with the counseling process). No one’s problems develop in a day. It may take me several sessions to obtain a good understanding of your situation. Be patient with yourself. The change process is often slower than we hope it will be. I have certainly seen some real “aha!” moments and breakthroughs happen early on in counseling conversations. But the truth of the matter is, growth will often be incremental. It is not accidental that Scripture uses agricultural and construction metaphors to emphasize gradual growth and progress over time. But, take heart! Jesus has promised to finish what he starts, and counseling is one way to see him fulfilling that promise.

4. Complete any growth assignments given, and review and pray over the matters discussed during previous sessions. Towards this end, it might be helpful if you bring a notepad to write down things you want to remember in between sessions. I’ve had other counselees send themselves a text message during a session, recording something they don’t want to forget. On occasion I will give assignments aimed at undergirding counseling goals to be completed between sessions. In my counseling conversations, I finish by helping you identify at least one way we can ask God to help you in the circumstances you are facing. You can use this request to help direct your prayers for yourself in seeking God’s wisdom and provision in the counseling process.

Though our problems often feel insurmountable, our help comes “from the maker of heaven and earth” (Psalm 121:2).  Jesus Christ knows and cares about every personal and relational struggle we face. He always works through his word, through his people, through his indwelling Holy Spirit, and through the power of the gospel of Christ. And sometimes, he chooses to use counseling (and the steps we take to make the most of it) to do that work too.

From the Bookshelf: Esther Smith’s, A Still and Quiet Mind: 12 Strategies for Dealing with Unwanted Thoughts

Contributed by Berry Hudson

One of the most common counseling conversations we have centers on unwanted thoughts. From the unsettling idea of doing harm to a loved one to the more benign tendency for one’s brain to want to plan out next Saturday’s dinner menu at 2 AM, our thoughts are very often uncontrolled and unwanted. To make matters more challenging, usually the most obvious strategies to combat these thoughts and the least effective ones. They tend to rely on our power and will instead of God’s mercy. As well, our common strategies focus on eliminating unwanted thoughts ASAP instead of doing the more uncomfortable but more helpful work of listening to them in a way that allows us to respond in the healthiest way possible.

Esther Smith walks us through a process of how to avoid simply reacting to the thoughts we do not like (often for very good reasons!), showing us instead how to respond with a well-planned mindset that leads us to a quieter mind. 

We often think of examination as a process of searching our hearts for sin. But the goal of discerning our thoughts “is not to simply avoid the evil in this life; it is to learn what is good so that we might embrace and enjoy it.” Yes, one of our goals is to take sinful thoughts captive. But the larger goal of examination is for us to cultivate still and quiet minds filled with enjoyable thoughts that are pleasing to God. (Chapter 1, p. 27)

I find it particularly helpful to begin with listening to the unwanted thoughts to understand them and then pray through those thoughts specifically before God. The temptation to react quickly to an unwanted thought to make the pain it may bring go away leads us away from a deeper dependence on God and an ability to locate Him in the midst of our thoughts. Smith wisely encourages us not to fall into that trap.

Smith’s perspective on thoughts is particularly proactive. She challenges the broader thought world that we live in that often becomes the seedbed where unwanted thoughts grow. It’s an uncomfortable but needed challenge for us to consider how much our reality is shaped by social media and cell phone use to the point of dominating our thought world. 

It’s ironic that we often turn back to technology to alleviate our thought-related problems. Our phones have become “digital pacifiers” that help us to avoid difficult feelings and problematic thoughts. (Ch 3, p. 47)

She invites us into—or back into—the world of Christian meditation as way to reshape our thinking. A conscious reflection both on truth in God’s word as well as the “occasional meditation” on God’s world—the physical experience of living in God’s creation—reset our thoughts to a more restful pace.  As embodied souls, we need both body and soul aligned to transform and renew our minds.

Throughout the book Smith weaves in practical steps in how to pursue a quieter mind. In each concept she covers, she walks us through a step-by-step process of how we might practice this new approach to more fruitful thinking. So, the reader can both learn and do what the book says. To make the best use of the book, it is best to take the time to practice her suggestions rather than just reading for information only.

A Still and Quiet Mind gives a roadmap in how to “repair” thoughts that need to be evaluated and redeemed in light of God’s grace and power. I find this very useful when people realize there is an element of truth in how they think though the thoughts themselves are not healthy or productive. Smith advice on thoughts about trauma are particularly useful since painful traumatic experiences can have a profound impact on the way a person thinks and acts. Though the trauma is real, the mind’s interpretation of it and the thoughts that flow from it may not lead to true and free life. Again, with specifics, she walks the thinker through how to bring steadying truth from God’s promises to bear. In this path, the traumatic experience is not minimized, and God’s power and healing truth become a place where the still and quiet mind can rest.

Making sense of our thoughts is deep work.  It can be a great challenge to discern what is true, what is not, what helps us live well and what holds us captive.  In this book we have a path to travel.  It’s not a quick fix, but it’s faithful to the promise and command to “renew our minds” (Rom. 12:2) that leads to greater freedom and hope.