Jesus & Therapy
I grew up in somewhat of a strict Pentecostal household. My father has been preaching and pastoring over 30 years. From my mother’s womb all I knew was church and church conventions. Once my father started his church every time those doors opened, we were there. The services were too many to count. It was the Tuesday night prayer service that stands out in my mind most. Grabbing that prayer pillow to kneel during prayer is my fondest memory.
I felt a sense of comfort and peace being surrounded by the prayers of my parents and the church members. The day and time escape me on when I begin to whisper prayers to God for myself. Once the whispers left my mouth to God’s ear’s I felt my childhood concerns were lifted. In that moment I believed my whispers were heard by God and these prayer whispers continued throughout my life
Teenaged years and college years my prayer moments were tested as life brought about new and overwhelming challenges to me. From navigating new friends on campus, to classwork, the question of what I wanted to do with my life, balancing following the crowd and being myself whispers went to full on prayer moments. Amid all that, life sucker punched me when I found out my favorite uncle had died. I was already struggling academically prior to this news. After I fell into a deep depression the remainder of the semester. All I remember about that time was being in a fog with the curtains drawn. Mental health was not discussed the way it is now. My prayers were stuck within me I struggled to even utter a whisper. I know for certain that God carried me through this time though. He led me right to Beverly McCall, a true angel for me, pointing me in the right direction to gain help with professors and help to put my mental health at top priority, so I scheduled my first ever appointment to therapy.
I had no idea how bad things were for me mentally. Growing up in church we were always told pray, leave it there and watch God work! Growing up in a black household we were taught what happens in this house stays in this house. We had the Vegas tagline long before Vegas did. There was a bit of shame I carried as I sat down to talk to the counselor. I carried the weight of the expectations I had for me and the expectations of others. Along with the grief of my uncle and the worries of a college student. I was taking a step not just for myself. I was destroying generational curses in my family. That one session jumpstarted a place of continued learning and unlearning for me.
It is possible to believe two things at one time. I believe in both the power of prayer as well as the power of therapy. 2020 showed up with so much stress from the pandemic, to racial tension in both the workplace and just in the world, followed with the craziest of times in the political world. The worst heartbreak ever the death of my grandmother hitting me harder than ever before. Prayer carried me to the point of stepping away from work, stepping down from all additional organizations I worked with. I needed time, space, and air to breath! I did my research and found a therapist, a BLACK WOMAN! Thank God.
At this point in my life there is no shame I carried in having both Jesus & Therapy. I believe God hears my prayers; he is close to the brokenhearted. I also believe there are some deep-rooted issues that have aided in my moments of anxiety and sad moments. I believe that when my heart is overwhelmed, I can go to God. I also believe it is helpful to speak to someone who can help me process the root of issues so I can both learn and unlearn behaviors. Mentally I was drowning I couldn’t tell where I ended and where grief took over. What I am realizing is I can walk hand in hand with God as I go talk to my therapist with no shame in sight. Healing is possible, healing is close when you let go the thing that has been causing you to drown.
In this next phase of my life I am letting go of things that don’t serve me. I am embracing that I will always have Jesus & Therapy.