Months ago I knew I needed to. Weeks ago I said I would. Yesterday I made the call. Today it was confirmed.
“I’m holding space for you, Beth,” the therapist said. “Starting right now, you’re sharing the load.”
And she was right. I instantly felt it lighten.
Admitting a need for help — and then actually asking for it — Good, gosh, that’s hard.
You might think I’d know better. My Dad is a professional counselor, after all. And I saw real benefit from time talking with a psychologist during my infertility struggle many years ago.
So to get such a confirmation, in a conversation of less than 5 minutes, that my heart was being heard. And held. Well, it started pulling together the brokenness. Helping me to gather the fragments into a manageable pile. A place to start from.
The promise of a soft place to land. An advance reservation to be accepted without pretense. A seat at the table with the other Ragamuffins feasting on grace.
“I go to prepare a place,” He says.
Heaven, yes. But here, too.
In Him. In nature. In silence. In each other.
In response to the 31 Day blogging challenge, I will be publishing EVERY DAY in October — reporting on ways I reach out to bravery in my everyday life. (See all posts to date HERE.) To be alerted to new posts, please follow me on Facebook or Twitterusing the links on the right side of this page. Or Subscribe to get posts sent to your Email.