Counselor


Recently my son (whose almost forty), and I were reminiscing about his grandmother My mother played a tremendous part in his upbringing.  For the first five years of his life she was basically his mother, they had a very endearing relationship.  She and my Father called him Rooster because he was born bald headed, with the exception of a two inch patch of hair in the top of his head that stood straight up.  My son was a mild mannered child, never did anything to get him into too much trouble, in fact I can't remember ever having to physically punish him.  He was obedient, never had to ask him twice to do anything, seldom had to ask him if he did his homework, however, he had this thing about food that my mom found quit amusing; he had to have his food fixed and/or placed on his plate in a certain way: for instance if he had a plate with chicken, the chicken had to be fried and it had to be a drumstick, greens and beans had to be put on a separate plate because they couldn't touch the meat.  If he had a hotdog, it could only have mayo and it had to be put on the hotdog bun a certain way.  My mom would always oblige him and sometimes taunt him a little because she thought it was so funny.

On one of our daily phone calls my mother was relaying to me a new food fetish my son had displayed that day, she could barely get the story out for laughing. My moms laugh was so contagious; when she laughed she would put her right hand over her mouth,close her eyes and her whole body would shake, as she shifted from one side to the other soft sounds of laughter took over.  Once she got started laughing, it was hard for her to stop and you often found yourself laughing with her even though you didn't know what she was laughing about.  After she finally got the story out she said, Lissie you need to take that boy to see a psychiatrist.


Isaiah 9:6 For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder. And His name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.


I never took my son to see a psychiatrist for his food fetish, but around my mid twenties prior to surrendering to Christ I was feeling very insecure, and overwhelmed by life's struggles so I chose to go see a Psychiatrist.  I found out in our first session that my psychiatrist was a Christian, prior to our sessions he would pray with me and after our sessions he would pray.  He sat and listened to me grapple about the unfairness of life and then he prescribed me pills.  The pills made me walk around like a zombie with seemingly not a care in the world although everything was still the same, happiness for me during that time was just an illusion.

One day while on these pills I went to my moms house, apparently I was acting out of character, so she called me back to her room and said, Lissie what is wrong with you, your eyes are so glassy and you seem like you aren't here.  I told her I was seeing a psychiatrist and taking antidepressants, I told her how the psychiatrist would pray for me and how much better I was feeling.  She looked in my eyes and said, you can pray for yourself, you don't need those pills nor that doctor, call on doctor Jesus.

I went home that day and cried myself to sleep, the next morning I woke up and refused to take the daily pill.  My next appointment was a week later, as I walked into my Psychiatrist office and sat down, he prayed and asked me how I was doing. I looked at him with a smile on my face and said "I am doing great," he asked me how was I adjusting to the medication, I looked him in the eyes and said, "I am no longer taking the medication and I came here today just to let you know that I will not be coming back."  He tried to convince me that I needed to continue with the treatment in order to get better but I wasn't hearing it.  I walked out of that office with all my problems and I never felt freer.  It wasn't long after that that I joined the body of Christ and never looked back.

I appreciate the prayers that my psychiatrist prayed over me, they were needed, I even appreciate the medication because it was those two things combined with the wisdom of my dear mother that pushed me into the arms of a Wonderful Counselor. From Him I learned how to cope with life's ups and downs in the mist of trials, I learned how to ask God for help when I felt overwhelmed.

I don't think there is anything wrong with Christian's going to see a psychiatrist nor with them taking prescribed medications, I think that's why God put them here, but I see these things as only a temporary reprieve from having to deal with the issues of life and we may need that from time to time, but don't forget to make an appointment with your Wonderful Counselor, your Mighty God, your Everlasting Father, your Prince of Peace.  He has timeless experience that can get you through life's rough season.

Much Love
Melissa

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