This is Serious Business. Don’t Forget to Laugh.

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by Jonathan Trotter, Licensed Counselor, Remnant Member

Welcome to the mud, to the ground level we call the counseling room. Welcome to the place where, day after day and week after week, we sit in the dark with brave people as their voices tighten and their tears smack the floor. Welcome to this beautiful, horrible, terribly glorious place.

After decades spent in this place, renowned trauma expert Dr. Diane Langberg warns us that “there is a cost in doing this work” because “we are handling toxic things.”[1] In this place, there is no denying that suffering is real, evil maims, and the thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy. If we are not careful, our newfound excitement for the career can careen into the monstrous walls of despair. If we are not careful, we might begin to gasp, along with Tolkien’s Theoden, “So much death. What can men do in the face of such reckless hate?”

So what can we do? How can we survive years of sitting with people in pain and relational destruction and detachment?

We can dance. We can laugh with the rebellious grin that knows what lies beyond the shadow. Yes, we can cry with people who are crying. Yes, we can truly feel with our clients, sitting with them in the dark. But we can also know, deep in our gut, that darkness does not have the last word. We can (and we must) protect the flame of hope that has been lit inside us. This hope remains a bright and clear hope, always threatening to burst at any moment into a long-awaited sunrise.

Laughter as Prophetic Rebellion

I’m no stranger to sad things. Or places. I worked at a Level 1 Trauma Center/ER in a downtown Kansas City hospital. I watched people yell and scream until their bodies ran out of blood, their brains starved, and they just died. My parents are still dead from cancer and my sister is still dead from a chromosomal abnormality. And I still miss them.

So no, I’m not talking about a laughter that requires outlawing grief. I’m not talking about a floppy dance that’s fueled by alcohol or idiocy. I’m not talking about a discounting humor that minimizes a client’s pain. I’m talking about a hopeful laughter that is fueled by Christ deep in the core of the therapist. I’m talking about a counselor who believes that dancing in the downpour is a prophetic thing because it will not always storm.

So what can we do?

We can remember that yes, the thief comes to steal, but Jesus comes to offer life to the full. We can remember that we have not been asked to carry the weight of the world, little Atlases bearing up as best we can.

No, first and foremost, we have been called to be little children, chosen and adopted by the Father of Love. We have been called to stay close to him, listening to him, dancing with him. Do we war against the darkness? Yes. Do we sit with clients in their traumas and their pains and their dark nights? Of course. But we can do all that and more to the soundtrack of a baffling joy that makes no sense.

And that mud we’ve been welcomed into? It’s not just messy and dirty. It’s also where we, along with our clients, will plant some things too. If we’re patient and if we pay attention, it’s where we’ll see small green stalks of life and hope begin to poke through.

We will see it. And we will see that there, in the mud of the land where death casts its long shadow, the light has shined.

And it shines still.

 

References

 Langberg, D. (2014). In our lives first: Meditations for counselors. Diane Langberg PhD & Associates.

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Jonathan Trotter (RN, MA, JD, NCC, PLPC) is a writer, international speaker, and counselor. He has served among the local and global Church for over twenty-four years and continues to walk alongside of folks in Southwest Missouri and around the world. He is the author of Digging in the Dirt: Musings on Missions, Emotions, and Life in the Mud, and he and his wife Elizabeth are the authors of Serving Well: Help for the Wannabe, Newbie, or Weary Cross-cultural Christian Worker. From 2012 to 2020, he and his family served as missionaries in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where Jonathan provided pastoral counseling to couples and individuals and helped pastor an international church. Prior to that, he worked bi-vocationally as an ER/trauma nurse and youth and worship pastor. He is a licensed attorney in California and recently completed his master’s in clinical mental health counseling.

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