God's Not Our Therapist
I visited a friend the other day. I have some friends that bring out my sage qualities, and he's one of them. Whenever we talk, I find myself saying really wise things like, "There's a certain point where you have to start chasing what you want in life instead of waiting for it to come to you," or asking things like, "If you could go back, what would you tell your 18 year old self?" I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm responding to his need for a therapist by becoming one. I'm sure that's a healthy response. Maybe I'm the one who needs a therapist.
But I digress.
I visited this friend, and I wasn't in a particularly talkative or peppy mood, so I just sort of stopped interjecting myself into the conversation. Stopped making an effort to squeeze in a sentence. And the interesting thing was, an hour went by where I hadn't expressed a single thought. I simply listened and nodded my head.
I began to put more energy into this conversation, because I was getting bored. But even then, I found my stories and thoughts falling out of my mouth and laying there motionless on the concrete, as my friend continued talking. Two hours went by. I felt like I should be getting paid for this.
This is a ministry, I told myself. This is like what pastors do. This is awesome practice for ministry or something.
Two and a half hours. I started to feel bad because I was getting antsy. It's not that I didn't care about this friend or his life story, because I did, but I was getting the sense that he didn't really care about me. Anyone could have been on the receiving end of his vent sesh, there was nothing special about me; he was just looking for a pair of ears to listen to him talk for 2.5 hours. I looked a lot like free therapy. I felt a little used, honestly. And I drove away thinking, This must be how God feels.
Because a lot of the time I talk at God. I talk and talk and talk. I tell him about my past, about my insecurities and fears. I tell him how much I need him to tell me what to do, all while just telling him what to do instead. I treat him like a therapist.
And I think he feels like I did that day. I think he cares about our stories and wants to hear our words, and is honestly just glad to be our friend and hang out while we talk, but he wants to talk too. He wants us to value him for him, and not just his listening skills. He wants us to listen to what he has to say so that his words don't die flat on the concrete.
God wants to be our friend, not just our therapist.
But I digress.
I visited this friend, and I wasn't in a particularly talkative or peppy mood, so I just sort of stopped interjecting myself into the conversation. Stopped making an effort to squeeze in a sentence. And the interesting thing was, an hour went by where I hadn't expressed a single thought. I simply listened and nodded my head.
I began to put more energy into this conversation, because I was getting bored. But even then, I found my stories and thoughts falling out of my mouth and laying there motionless on the concrete, as my friend continued talking. Two hours went by. I felt like I should be getting paid for this.
This is a ministry, I told myself. This is like what pastors do. This is awesome practice for ministry or something.
Two and a half hours. I started to feel bad because I was getting antsy. It's not that I didn't care about this friend or his life story, because I did, but I was getting the sense that he didn't really care about me. Anyone could have been on the receiving end of his vent sesh, there was nothing special about me; he was just looking for a pair of ears to listen to him talk for 2.5 hours. I looked a lot like free therapy. I felt a little used, honestly. And I drove away thinking, This must be how God feels.
Because a lot of the time I talk at God. I talk and talk and talk. I tell him about my past, about my insecurities and fears. I tell him how much I need him to tell me what to do, all while just telling him what to do instead. I treat him like a therapist.
And I think he feels like I did that day. I think he cares about our stories and wants to hear our words, and is honestly just glad to be our friend and hang out while we talk, but he wants to talk too. He wants us to value him for him, and not just his listening skills. He wants us to listen to what he has to say so that his words don't die flat on the concrete.
God wants to be our friend, not just our therapist.
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