Home > Christianity, Faith > My Trip To The Psychologist

My Trip To The Psychologist

It was probably during the summer following my ninth grade year.  The summer before was when my mom got sick again.  I had been away at 4-H camp.  I came home struck by the same illness she had faced during my seventh grade year.  I’ve blotted a lot of that time period out.  I just didn’t like life then.

I was a runner at this point.  I had given up baseball a couple of years before because it was just too hard for my folks to get me to practice and back.  Maybe they would have worked it out somehow, but something had to give and it was my favorite sport.  So, I moved on to track.

I was supposed to go to a Junior Olympics meeting.  My dad dropped me off and said that he would be back to get me when he was done.  If I finished first, he told me to walk to where he would be.

I’m not sure what happened, but no one else showed up.  Maybe we had gotten our wires crossed.  There I was, about fourteen years old, all alone at my high school in the summer.  So I started walking to where my dad was.  I walked about a mile and a half.  I made the trip.

My first and last trip to the psychologist.

I really had no intention of talking to anyone.  I planned to sit there until my dad was done.  I guess they had other ideas.  I soon found myself sitting there in a room with a woman who was a stranger who was asking me even stranger questions.  Only one has stuck with me all of my life.

“Who are your friends.”

I don’t know how long I froze there unable to answer.  I remember looking at her for a long while.  Finally I named some guys I went to school with.  I told her what she wanted to hear.   What I didn’t do was tell her the truth.

I didn’t really have any friends.  It took a long time to really figure it out.  I was afraid to have friends.  If I had friends, I might have to talk about what was going on in my life.  I might have to tell them the truth.

I wanted some friends.  In fact, that drove me for so long.  It didn’t matter what they were like, I simply wanted friendship.  Yet I was afraid at the same time.

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A good chunk of the gospel of John deals with that last few days of Jesus’ life.  In chapter 15, Jesus says something that I find truly amazing.  Here he is, the Messiah, God with us, telling his disciples something extraordinary.  He tells them that they are no longer slaves of His.  Now they are His friends.

Think about that for a moment.  We think of guys like Moses being God’s friend.  David was a man after God’s own heart.  We expect him to be a friend of the Lord.

The disciples?  You?  Me?  A friend of God?

I have the most important friend I can have.  What a friend I have in Jesus.

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Here’s the thing.  It’s taken me 44 years to figure out that I don’t have to get over some of those old hangups.  The Lord is my friend.  He has friends.  I have an incredible assortment of friends to choose from.  There’s no need to be afraid.  I’ve told Him everything.  Time to move along.

Do you find it easy or difficult to have friendships?

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  1. March 13, 2013 at 5:11 am

    I have generally found it easy to have friendships, but it has gotten a bit more challenging to have deeper friendships as I’ve become older and life has crept in. I think I’m less likely to share some of the “deep” details from the caverns of my mind with others.

  2. March 13, 2013 at 5:13 am

    I am a naturally outgoing person so meeting people is not hard. Making and keeping friends-surface “friends”- is really easy. Finding someone to be honest with, now that is a different story. As a pastor I have to be careful whom I choose as friends because betrayal is a real threat. Oh, I’m not on any of the social media but I will keep coming back. 🙂

  3. March 13, 2013 at 7:27 am

    Larry, good thoughts. I have a couple good, good friends. So thankful to have them in my life.

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