Tuesday after my pastoral care and counseling class I was feeling incredibly overwhelmed.
We had just went over the details of conducting our first sessions......how to film the session, how to play the session back in order to critique it, and most importantly how to go about establishing a client to helper relationship when a client first walks in.
Our professor gave us an example by sitting in the middle of the class with one of the students and conducting an intake interview while we observed and one student filmed.
It was a bit strange listening to someone's actually intake.
A part of me was intrigued by how smoothly our professor was with pulling out inner emotions from the client/student.
Another part of me was surprised at how open the client/student was about sharing personal issues.
And yet another part of me was fearful that I would never be able to do such a thing. That I would never be able to conduct a session. That I would just clam up with anxiety.
Then I was asked to be the client, the professor the helper, and I was to give a family history.
Asking a client the family history is a way in which to establish a relationship and find some specific issues the client might be dealing with.
A lot of stuff came out.
I was suprised yet again at how smoothly my professor was at getting me to talk about touchy issues in a large group of people.
After class, during the drive home, I kept the radio off and prayed the typical prayer "why me? Oh Lord why me? Why have you called me this ministry of counseling? Lord, I have too much social anxiety issues to actually be able to help anyone? I can't do this? I want to but I just can't."
I turned the radio on after my rant.
This is the song that was playing.
It was a letter straight from God.