I could only imagine the thoughts that were invading his mind as he lowered himself to the bathroom floor and dialed 911.  My friend/classmate, who I will call Al to respect his privacy, was scheduled to graduate from Loyola University Maryland in four weeks, with a Masters of Science (“MS”) degree in pastoral counseling.  He had taken the National Counselor Examination (“NCE”) that morning, and was still in the building, when tragedy struck.  For the next two months, Al exchanged the classroom for the physical and occupational therapy rooms, as he relearned how to perform basic activities of daily living (“ADLs”), with the goal of regaining his independence. 

Al had suffered a stroke, specifically a right anterior cerebral artery ischemic stroke.  This stroke did not create facial distortions, nor did it affect his mind.  However, his left side was weak, and in addition to an inability to control the affected muscles and limbs, he experienced pain and intermittent muscle spasms.  What the stroke did not affect was his positive attitude and sense of purpose.  And as I read his daily posts on Facebook, and the e-mail updates from his wife, I developed an appreciation for his faith in God and his personal power.  I had no doubt that recovery would occur, and it would happen quickly.

The daily updates were, in essence, progress notes.  Each day offered a reason to celebrate, and on the rare occasion that a relapse occurred, getting back on track was almost immediate.  I knew Al was an active member of his church, and as I followed his progress, I recognized that his relationship with God played a more essential role in his recovery than I had originally imagined.  One evening during a visit, we discussed his faith and how it related to his current situation. 

Al’s faith is rooted in the sovereignty of God.  He is certain that God was responsible for his illness, and he supported his belief with the Biblical teaching that all of our days are written and established before one of them has happened.  Therefore, he accepted the stroke as a marker on the road he was destined to travel.  I suggested a comparison with Job where God allowed the devil to persecute him.  Al did not agree, simply stating “because Christ has ransomed us.”  He said that God’s purpose is to glorify his son, and that God is dedicated to transforming each believer into the image of Christ.  Al also hoped that his illness would benefit someone, and his stroke would not be wasted.  I assured him that he had inspired me, and if I ever were to become ill, I would find a positive role model in him.

After almost 5 weeks, Al transferred to Encore at Turf Valley  to complete his final phase of inpatient rehabilitation.  Encore is located across the street from his church, and he was able to attend Sunday service.  As I sat with him during his last evening at Encore, I wondered what, if anything, in our Pastoral Counseling program could have prepared him to negotiate his life-changing event with such a positive attitude.  Al had acknowledged earlier feelings of despondency, and his fear of being handicapped for the rest of his life.  However, his faith helped him to set aside those thoughts and focus on healing.  And as I looked into his eyes as he spoke, I understood that I had found my answer.  Al’s ability to use his faith to effect healing was pastoral.

Al is at home now, and after two months of being cared for by others, he is testing his independence.  On his first day at home, he posted:  “Today, I am at home.  I made a pot of coffee.  I had breakfast, cleaning up after myself.  I am using a walker around the house, trying to remember to go slowly and to stay safe. But, I’m smiling.”  Al’s sense of purpose, his personal strength, and his faith in God continue to be strong, and have helped him through difficult times.  He still has a way to go to complete his healing, but his prognosis is good.  As I look back on Al’s journey, I am proud to have been his classmate, and to call him my friend.

Today, my day went something like this:

‘Alarm clock, rush, rush, traffic jam, work, work, work, and more work, traffic jam, work, work, work, drive, drive, home, more work to do.’ Sound familiar? The day was so busy that I just wanted to shout, “Stop! Just stop and take a break!”

I know, I know. That is just how your day went too, right? Take a minute with me, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Any better yet?

Life can be so chaotic, so busy, and so full of activity that we often forget how important it is to take care of ourselves. We get so caught up with all of the things that we have to do that we don’t even notice how unbalanced our lives have become. Our society is so fast paced that it is hard for many people to catch their breaths – me included. It is at this time that I stop to reflect on some wise words I have recently read:

“Care must be taken not to be driven in one’s career to the extent that everything else loses value and accordingly does not receive the attention it should.” – Dr. Robert Wicks, in The Resilient Clinician.

I received Dr. Wicks’ book as a gift from the Loyola University Pastoral Counseling Department during a free ‘self-care’ workshop. One of my fellow blog writers has put together an excellent post describing the events of the day. Many thanks JoAnn! To read about our day of self-care, click here.

The Resilient Clinician offers helping professionals practical advice for avoiding burnout through working to maintain balance. Although the text is designed for those working in the mental health profession, the words of wisdom contained in the book are useful for anyone who (like me) is feeling a bit overwhelmed by the pressures life has to offer. Dr. Wicks goes in depth into many different topics from recognizing signs of burn out to developing strategies for self-care. I highly recommend reading the text whether you are a clinician or are simply feeling the physical and psychological effects of stress.

In Appendix E, Dr. Wicks challenges the reader to check balance in the following areas:

1. Stimulation and quiet
2. Reflection and action
3. Work and leisure
4. Self-care and care of others
5. Self-improvement and patience
6. Future aspirations and present positive realities
7. Involvement and detachment

Today, I am going to just pick one off the list. I’ll start with number 1 simply because I am too tired to be all that original at the moment. I have had plenty of stimulation today. When I leave all of you, I am going to take 15 minutes of silence and just listen to the quiet.

Why don’t you join me? Your brain will thank you for it.

In my Introduction to Pastoral Counseling class this past fall, Dr. Dee Preston Dillon asked the class to consider what is the “best and the worst” of being a pastoral counselor.  My greatest challenge is having feelings of inadequacy to provide support and guidance to my clients. Related to this challenge is also what I believe to be the greatest opportunity, the possibility of healing for my clients through grace. My counseling can serve as medium for that grace.

I have continued to reflect on this question. Taking a page out of David Letterman’s Top Ten, I’ve started the conversation with my own Top Three. I welcome my colleagues to comment on my post naming their own “challenges” and “joys.” 

DRUMROLL PLEASE

CHALLENGES
3. Value Dissonance
In my Human Development class this spring we discussed what happens when clients’
personal values are not aligned with our own and their choices do not appear to serve in their best interest. . My role as a counselor is to help clients define their intentions in seeking counseling and to be ethical in helping them make choices which are congruent with their intentions, regardless of what those choices may be. I realize this is easier said than done and welcome advice from my colleagues on this issue.
2. Lack of self-awareness
Self-awareness is a life-long process and as frustrating as it is to discover new “blindspots.” These are the experiences that provide opportunities for the greatest learning and growth.
1. Being able to keep the faith
I imagine there will be many days when I will question my abilities as a counselor. I hope that I can seek support from good colleagues and be open to God’s grace in getting me through these times.

JOYS
3. The ability to both be a travel companion and a wayfinder for clients.
We are all on a journey and it is the role of the Pastoral Counselor to walk with our clients while also helping them discern their path.
2. “Aha!” moments
Just like the name of this blog, we are “meaning makers.”  I look forward to the first time I realize when I facilitated an “Aha!” moment for a client.
1. Transformative relationships
Pastoral counselors can help transform their clients’ lives. As I hope for the possibility of transformation for my clients, I know that my relationships with them will also be transformative for me, thus deepening my own spiritual development.

Where can students and faculty from so many diverse backgrounds come together, respect each other’s opposing views, and learn from each other?

At Loyola’s 10^th Annual Mid-Year Research Conference on Religion and Spirituality (MYC).

As I listened to A Dialectical Paradigm Shift in the Search for the Sacred, the presenter, M. Chet Mirman, PhD outlined what it means to be sacred, mentioned Buber, the supernatural, transcendence, and having a sense of awe and wonder at the mystery of the world. 

I was under the impression that the room was filled with theists on a quest for God (i.e. the sacred).  There were at least two Catholics in the room other than myself: a Jesuit pastoral counseling affiliate faculty member Fr. William Sneck S.J. PhD, and a Catholic nun in a full habit…

Then, someone in the audience raises his hand and asks this question, “What do you mean by keeping the baby of spirituality while throwing out the bathwater of bad metaphysical beliefs?”

Mirman replies, “Well, you know, God parting the Red Sea, bushes spontaneously bursting into flames, and other similar phenomenon.  The inquisitor looked puzzled.  Then the presenter offered, “Well, I guess I’d better come clean and tell you all that I am an atheist.” Mirman continues, “And I am trying to find my way back to belief.”  You could have heard a pin drop.  After a pregnant pause, the conversation continued with the theists and the atheist discussing metaphysical, philosophical, and theological theories and constructs.

I had taken four pages of notes and listened to his lecture for forty minutes before he disclosed that he was an atheist.  I think he was courageous to transparently admit to his views in a room full of theists.  And the fact that the discussion didn’t miss a beat with both theists and atheist learning from each other speaks to the brand of education found here at Loyola. 

Scioli Signs Book for Teri Wilkins

      A Whole Brain Intervention to Instill Hope was another example of the strength of diversity in action.  Anthony Scioli, an American, and Fr. Jen Charles Wismick, a Haitian, worked together in Haiti to instill hope in the survivors of the 2010 Haiti earthquake.  We need each other and work best in community; we do not do pastoral care in a vacuum.

Loyola students are diverse, hailing from all over the world, representing every race, creed, ethnicity, and gender.  Additionally, we are inclusive; we listen to, respect, and learn from each other. 

And that is why I am proud to be a student at Loyola.

On May 3, 2012, I was watching the evening news and learned that an Episcopal priest and an administrative assistant had been shot, at their church, by a homeless person.  No names were given.  Over the course of the next week, more information surfaced.  Apparently, the shooter had a history of approaching the church for assistance but became agitated after being told he had to limit his visits to the food pantry so others could benefit as well.  He killed the two women and then killed himself.

At first, I felt horrified that such a tragedy had occurred, but I was able to distance myself.  I could offer prayers for the repose of their souls and prayers for their families and friends, but I did not know anyone involved.  Or so I thought.  When the names of those involved became public, the pain became personal.  I knew Mary Marguerite Kohn.  She was my friend.

Mary Marguerite, or MM, was a graduate of the PhD program in pastoral counseling.  While she was preparing to defend her dissertation, she spent hours and hours in the doctoral lounge entering data and reviewing and revising her work.  At that same time, I was using the office directly across the hall to help with the copy editing of Research in the Social Scientific Study of Religion.  MM would come in frequently to visit with me and to offer support because she knew I sometimes got impatient with the pace of the academic requirements.  The process seemed to take so long!  She told me many times that perseverance was the key to success and to keep plugging away.  She set a wonderful model in that respect.

After she graduated, she became an affiliate professor at Loyola and at Fordham and sometimes consulted with me about online education.  She had a great love for her students and was deeply invested in their success.  I recall an extended email conversation about the cost of materials for one of her courses where she examined every possible way to keep the costs down and the quality high.  In addition to her kindness, I remember her intense energy, her easy laughter, and her generosity.  While I feel very sad about her death, I am also very, very grateful that I had the chance to know her.

Eternal rest grant unto her, oh Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon her.
May her soul and the souls of all the
faithful departed, through the mercy
of God, rest in peace.
Amen.

I was cruising down St. Paul’s street in downtown Baltimore heading off to class when suddenly three youths stepped out in front of my car. My tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes, just in time. Then I waited. The young men stood in front of my car for about 20 seconds, watching me intently. Then they disappeared back where they had come.  During that time, I was not sure what to do. Had I heard the Multicultural Panel before this incident, and listened to Ryan Heeman tell a very similar story, I might have had a better clue. You see, I am white, and the youths were African American.

 If we are going to meet with this kind of dilemma in normal life, life as a counselor will bring even greater challenges. How can I be sensitive to someone who is LGBT? Am I aware of the cultural differences between Asian or African or Hispanic and the dominate white American? Have I ever stepped into the life of someone of another faith tradition, or enjoyed a celebration in another culture? These are the questions the Multicultural Panel at Loyola Pastoral Counseling Department addressed April 26, 2012.

 Professor Katherine Oakes, who teaches a course on Diversity Issues in Counseling, planed the panel. She brought in a number of MS and PhD students to share personal accounts, dissertation work, and clinical experience. They had a lot to share. 

 For each of us, there are limits to our understanding and our knowledge of other cultures. Dian Adams spoke of the clinical insights she has gained in addressing a client’s cultural context. She spoke honestly about having made assumptions, assumptions about how her client perceived herself. And she was wrong. She candidly admitted that had she asked, she would have been in a better position.

 Ryan Heeman recounted his personal perspectives on what post-racial means to him and what it might look like in his personal experience as a “Generation-Y’er.” His own story mirrored mine, except that Ryan knew to look the individuals in the eye and treat them as nothing more than some youths out to have fun.

 Other panel members addressed the issues of religious tolerance and understanding, and individualist and collectivist world views. They are not unique to a culture, says Inna Edara, speaking of his own findings in his dissertation research. And commonality is also not a given, according to Thomas Skeeter, who recounted his visit to Haiti. He expected to find something similar to his own community. Instead he learned that some Haitians could not understand how the African American community failed to reach out to them when they came as immigrants to America. The Haitian youths envied his opportunities for education.

The session ended with suggestions for more presentations and work in this field. Professor Katherine Oakes hopes to continue discussions on diversity and multicultural issues in the Fall of 2012.

“Do we hafta pray?”

 “I’ve never found religion all that useful.”

“What’s that mean . . .  pastoral counseling?”

“I don’t need God. God won’t pay my rent!”

These are composite statements and attitudes of some clients who have come to me for counseling. Here are my witty responses:

“Would you like to pray?”

 “What do you find useful?”

“What does it mean to you?”

“Maybe if you asked nice He would.”

Okay. I really didn’t use that last one.

My clinical internship is supported by an on-site pastoral care department. They promote my presence as being that of a pastoral counselor. Some people seek me out because they want a spiritual component to their counseling. Others come to me wanting counseling, but expressing reluctance or outright refusal to being “pastoralized” (<–not a real word).

Life in my little counseling room is easy when clients intentionally walk with God or any belief in spirituality or a higher power. At Loyola, I’ve learned to meet my clients where they are at and talk the common theme of spirituality regardless of religion. With non-God/non-spiritual clients, my pastoral presence struggles a bit. Wanting to respect their boundaries, God, Jesus, spirit, and prayer become secrets that I hide in my mental closet.

Meeting the non-spiritual client where he or she is at is challenging because I cannot be a non-spiritual counselor. Like breathing, my spirituality is both a voluntary and involuntary response. Even if I choose not to speak of it in session, my spiritual presence is still very active, humming along in the background, influencing my way of being, and scanning the surface for a chance to connect with the client.

Sometimes, my Type A pastoral presence wants to bop non-spiritual clients on the head and say: “How can you NOT realize and attend to your spirit???!!!” My more reasonable, compromising pastoral presence has come to rely on the concept of Namaste: recognizing the “Divine spark” that lives in all of us.

Silently present, Namaste acknowledges the divine within non-God/non-spiritual clients. It waits with eternal patience at the closed door where their spirituality lives. 

Namaste knows there is always somebody home.