Catharsis at church

“You need to let that out.” I remember my therapist saying these words. I remember because it was the first time in our years together that they cut the “I get you to talk / you figure it out” bit and flat out gave me some advice. This happened years ago, but I still remember, as if moments ago, those words and the emotions they were speaking to: frustration at disappointments recent and aged, anger I had been so afraid to get in touch with, and deep sadness I had found a way to “busy” myself through. All of these were there, lurking, as long-held emotions do, and beginning to seep into my ministry.

I found myself less patient with staff, a bit angrier from the pulpit (and not in that “prophetic fire” kind of way), far more cynical, and just so tired. Your body may be different, but mine’s way of telling me something is to make me tired. Even though I could sleep like a teenager well into my 30s, I knew something was off. And to my therapist’s credit, they had known long ago and were risking their laurels to commit an act of grace.

“You need to let that out.”