Listen to the blog:
My hand was actually getting tired. Pen to paper, pouring out my heart to Jesus. Jesus probably felt me hanging on to the hem of his robes and couldn’t shake me loose.
I was at a crossroads, which to me just felt like limbo. Being an all-or-nothing person doesn’t accommodate in-between well. But here I was, in between and trying to choose. Faith being my newest thing, I wanted God’s path for me.
I was still burned out from my years at Community Coffee. I was tired, but I still wanted to do big things. Do I get over myself, level up, and step back into the corporate world?
I had virgin faith in Christ, but simultaneously was introduced to Satan through God’s word. And he was active in the doubting section of my brain. “You can’t move into a bigger corporate job. You’re stressed out and burned out in a smaller company. Besides, you would most likely have to move, and you said you didn’t want to do that to your kids.”
Ok, then I can go back to school and do something totally different. I like helping and mentoring people. What about becoming a counselor? The Lord knows Baton Rouge could use some good counselors.
The enemy jumps back into the conversation. “Are you kidding me? A counselor? You have a degree in finance and an MBA. You are all about success and achieving goals. You are not a sensitive, touchy-feely counselor type. What are you even thinking?”
A counselor is as far in the other direction as I could get. Isn’t it?
Continuing on the lined pages, a verse pops into my head:
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
I felt God giving me my argument back to Satan.
I have clung strongly to the illusion of control.
But I have never really been in control. That was obvious when Rachel lost all of her hair from alopecia, and nothing I could do would restore it. And even at this time, the Lord wasn’t letting me settle on a career trajectory that matched my obvious strengths.
Another verse surfaced from somewhere in the back of my mind.
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.
Weakness.
That wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for.
I wanted qualifications. Experience. Credentials. A five-year plan.
Instead, I felt God reminding me that he wasn’t asking me to do this because I was strong enough. He was asking me to trust him enough.
I have education and work experience to back up any business or management career.
I would be in control. I knew how to do those things.
As I cried out to God… okay, it was more like continuous whining… he wouldn’t give me peace about following my obvious strengths. I wasn’t interested, inspired, or motivated to action.
But I found myself looking at psychology and counseling programs at LSU and Southeastern. I set up informational interviews with people to get outside opinions about how crazy it would be for me to pursue counseling. At this point, I was thinking of Christian counseling.
This was comical to people from my past life, as for most of my years in business, I had been a take-no-prisoners, we-will-hit-our-goals-no-matter-what business leader. And I was Jewish. Some in my circles were a part of this come-to-Jesus transition, but most were not.
I walked into the familiar setting. The sound of the coffee grinder met me with the aroma of fresh-ground beans. I was meeting my old boss and mentor for coffee. “Hey, I want to get your honest opinion about something I am thinking about. You mentored me for most of my career thus far.”
“Ok, shoot,” he said. Pat was unique in his 100% always-calm demeanor. I was amazed that, regardless of the stress Community Coffee rained down on us, he handled it with professionalism and thoughtful responses. He was anything but reactive, and I had studied and practiced this in my own leadership because I admired it so much.
“Ok, I know this will sound crazy, but I found a two-year master’s program in community counseling at LSU. I am thinking of going back to school so I can pursue becoming a licensed professional counselor.”
I think in my head I closed my eyes and braced myself for laughter.
But staring back at him, he, on brand, responded thoughtfully. “Sue, you have always been a counselor. Everyone seeks you out for advice and guidance. Even when you would move from one department or division, all the stray dogs you collected would follow.”
Stray dogs, huh? I take a sip of coffee to hide any forthcoming expression.
“I just mean that most people are directionless. You have always helped people find themselves and reach or exceed their perceived capacity.”
“Really?” I responded like a hopeful child. This was sounding better than the stray dog introduction.
In a nutshell, he said absolutely, it makes total sense, go for it.
This was a man I wanted in my corner.
Next up was a meeting with someone I had known for only a few years. Bill Phillips was a licensed professional counselor who ran a company that helped organizations with succession planning. I had met him at Community Coffee.
“So you know me, and you know counseling. Could you ever see me and it becoming one? Could you see me as a counselor?”
His response was immediate. “Yes, and you can come work for me while you are in school. I can give you flexible hours. You can start practicing by doing executive coaching and helping me grow my business into more of a leadership development company.”
Yes, I am now two for two and seeing a path emerge.
I still had a piece to figure out, though. I didn’t just want to be a counselor. I wanted to be a Christian counselor.
The obvious answer was New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. The problem was that I had already spent a year commuting to New Orleans for work. I was exhausted. The thought of making that drive for school now felt overwhelming.
Then I remembered Murphy.
Murphy Toerner was a licensed professional counselor who had spoken at a women’s event at church. She had mentioned the master’s program at LSU. She somehow managed to be both deeply Christian and a practicing counselor without a seminary degree. Maybe she would know what I was missing.
As I walked into yet another coffeehouse, I saw Murphy waving from across the room.
Murphy is a gregarious, outward-loving extrovert. I think of her as a bundle of love. She has almost immediate positive regard for most people. At least she did for me, and we built rapport instantly.
Wide-eyed like a Christian toddler, I asked, “So what is a Christian counselor? What makes it Christian?”
I probably can’t do justice to her response at the time, because my two-year Christ-following heart and mind didn’t have the vocabulary to match my budding faith.
Knowing what I know now, and after a long-term working and personal friendship with Murphy, I am sure it was a lot of Christian worldview, Holy Spirit guidance, and this-is-what-the-Bible-says description.
“How can I learn that if I go to LSU and not a seminary?”
“Well, what if I help you integrate the faith part, Sue!”
Just like that. The last section of the red carpet rolled out.
This must be God’s plan, right?
Why did the doubts keep coming? Maybe I wasn’t qualified. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe this whole idea was ridiculous.
But Pat said I had always been a counselor. Bill offered me a job. Murphy promised to help me learn the Christian side of counseling.
All the doors stayed open.
Maybe God wasn’t nearly as interested in my resume as I was.
How else does a business-minded, secular Jewish, burned-out workaholic quit the corporate world, go back to school again, and become a Christian counselor?
