I was so nervous.
For years I had told people that this was a place they should go. I would tell them that it was a place they should not be afraid of or ashamed of. Yet, I had never taken my own advice.
But here I was on a sunny September day, standing outside of my car looking up at the church sign. The church does not seem like much from the outside. It is located in a shopping center between a barbershop and a pawn shop. The sign that was staring back at me is simple. It is white with blue writing. I had been in many churches before, but this time was different.
Today marked two weeks from the day my heart shattered into thousands of pieces. The breakup hit me hard and I immediately drove home. My mom gave me a huge hug and let me bawl on her shoulders.
And then I saw my step-dad. This was the man who spent countless hours playing video games with me. This was the man who helped me learn what it meant to be a man who took care of his family. This was the man who showed me the type of love my Heavenly Father had for me before any of us were Christians. We have hugged before, but this time was different. It was the first time in my life that I ever got a fatherly, “everything is going to be ok” hug. As he listened to me weep about the pain I was in, he kept telling me he knew and that it was going to be ok. I will never forget that moment.
The next few days were a blur. One of my best friends took a day off of work and hung out with me all Sunday and I finally went home on Tuesday.
We met again one more time and it was officially over.
I went to Huntsville to be with some other friends for a few days. While there, I started making some phone calls.
Those phone calls led me to this point.
In a polo shirt and khakis shorts, I carried my North Face backpack filled with a Bible, journal, and pens into the church.
“Hey, how can I help you,” asked the receptionist.
“Yes,” I stuttered. “I have a counseling appointment for 1 o’clock.”
There have been many times that I have stood in front of a group of teenagers and even full congregations and said, “It is ok to not be ok.”
Funny enough, the last message I preached before the breakup was on Matthew 6:25-34. One of the main points was that sometimes God performs miracles and delivers us from whatever trials we are in. But that is not normal. Recovering from being hurt usually takes a process. And a part of that process could include going to counseling.
“What a liar!”
That is what I think when I look back on that message. I did not lie on purpose. I would never do that from the pulpit. But it was a lie.
There had been several times throughout my life when I needed help, but I did not get it. From childhood trauma to teenage depression to personal struggles as an adult, I have often ignored some pretty big things all for the sake of saying, “I am ok.”
The fact is that we are in 2020 and there should not be a stigma behind mental health. Going to a counselor is not a sign that we have somehow failed as adults. It means that we have succeeded in understanding where we are struggling and are seeking guidance to overcome those struggles.
“What brings you here today,” my counselor asked.
“Well, I just went through a breakup and I want to make sure I am processing everything correctly,” I responded.
I have a basic understanding of psychology and the grief process. I know the five stages. Trust me, I have gone through all five a few times during this process.
But I wanted to make sure I was going through the process in a healthy way. And honestly, I would feel like a complete hypocrite if I didn’t go.
Long term obedience starts with daily obedience.
Marc Hodges, Senior Pastor, FBC Thorsby
It has been just over a month and there are days where things seem normal. I go to work and I hang out with friends. I go to some of my students’ football games.
But man, some days are awful where I do not want to do anything. And let me tell you, Facebook Memories are the worst. And engagement photos. And The Office. And that stupid coffee shop. And Spanish. And Ed Sheeran songs. On those days, I just want to cry and not get out of bed.
But, I get up. I get dressed. I go for a run. I read. I pray. I journal. I go to work.
Why?
One of the first conversations I had after the breakup was with my old youth minister. I told him about my confusion and concern about the future. I am someone who likes to have a pretty good picture of what the future looks like. Not necessarily all of the details, but I like a good outline. And for the first time in almost five years, that outline was gone.
He told me this:
Long term obedience starts with daily obedience.
I am not sure who I’m going to marry. I am not sure where I am going to be in five years.
But, today?
Today God has called me to do a large number of small things. I can’t map out my future, but I can be obedient today.
It is ok to not be ok. It is just not ok to stay there.
The truth is that I am not ok. Before I started writing this, I cried. I’m probably going to cry a few more times this week. I’m probably going to get angry over a random memory.
I am not ok.
But I am getting help.
I will drive to that church on Thursday. I will get out of my car, look up at that white sign with blue writing, grab my North Face backpack, and walk through those doors. I will tell my counselor about how rough my week was. I will ask my friends to pray for me. I will ask my church to pray for me.
And each day, I will seek to be obedient to what God is calling me to do.
It is ok to not be ok. It’s just not ok to stay there.
If you break your arm, you go to the doctor to get help. If you flunk a test, you go have a conversation with the professor.
If you are living with depression, anxiety, grief, or any other mental health problem, I want to encourage you to get help.
Two of the most difficult things for me to do was finding a counselor and walking through those doors.
If you, or someone you know, needs help, I would love to help with that first thing. Please reach out and I will do whatever I can to get you or them connected with a local counselor.
And if you are in the area, I will go with you to your session.
PS Keep praying for me.
PSS if you see me crying in my car, just let me be. My crying sessions are getting shorter every week and I will be done in a few minutes.
James Dubuisson 