As a first entry into the world of blogging
I guess I want to share a little of my story. I must be honest and say I put
this up with a little trepidation as to what people might think of
our course and me!
Despite my misgivings I hope this entry
will provides a little insight into why we teach what we teach to our
counseling students.
God’s Faithfulness Gets Real
It was my second night in hospital
with serious and unexplained bleeding after the birth of our third
child. I stared at my 3 month-old son who was being cradled
by my husband while doctors and nurses buzzed around.
I didn’t realise it at the
time but I was dying. My body was fighting hard, but was
so weak. It turned out that I had a very rare but aggressive
type of cancer called Choriocarcinoma .
Despite the odds being against his
survival, my son had miraculously survived growing alongside a tumour in
the womb. With further tests it was discovered that the tumour had rapidly
progressed to my lungs. To beat the disease would require me to have many
gruelling weekly treatments, with the good news being that this type of
carcinoma was highly responsive to chemotherapy.
But worse than the gruelling treatment
was the moment when I was told that I was to be transferred to another
hospital, meaning I would have to hand over my son to be cared for by my
husband and mum; Daniel and I had never been parted for more than a couple of
hours. As I breast fed him for the last time I had no idea whether either
of us would be ok. I had gone from being a strong carer and protector to
being as weak and vulnerable as he.
The pain of loss I felt was
unbearable, and the moment I handed him over was one of the hardest
of my life. In some ways it would have been easier to tell me to tear
out my heart, which is how it felt handing him over that night.
Sitting in the A&E
of Charing Cross Hospital, which specialises in this kind
of cancer, I felt stripped of everything I found comfort and
security in, I was in immense pain, and mental torture. When
eventually taken to my room, I curled up in the foetal position and
cried out from the deepest part of my soul to know His Spirit was with me.
Honestly, nothing happened. The room remained bare, cold, and dark,
perfectly reflecting my State.
What followed from that point was what
can only be described as the hardest journey of my life thus far. I went
to places within myself and had experiences that there really are no
earthly words for. As the chemo took its toll I felt at times as if I was in a
kind of hell. And yet, at the same time, I have never experienced such a
profound and glorious sense of God’s presence.
The time that stands out most is the
night the hospital lost my chemo. I was in complete pain and turmoil about
my situation, but as the night wore on I came to realise there was a lady
in the last hours of her life in the bed next to me. I could hear her agony
from behind the curtain and knew that it was an honour to be able to pray
for her as we lay side by side in pain. It was then I saw how even in the
darkest night His Spirit calls us to reach out, and I have never felt so sure
of my calling to simply be His hands and feet whatever the circumstances.
I must also add that I saw His love
through friends and family stepping in and filling the gaps made by my
inability to care for our family and myself. I was often dumbfounded as
people, Christian, Non-Christian, family, friends, strangers came and showed
abundant love and grace to us.
You might think that as a counsellor it
would be my skills as a therapist that would have come to the fore. But in
that first dark night, and the ones that followed, what remained when I
was stripped to my core was a deep profound belief, a sense of God’s
sovereignty, and the pervasiveness of His Spirit.
Of course, I did (and still do) use my
skills as a therapist to help deal with the trauma happening in my body,
mind, emotions, and spirit. But what most impacted my experience of the
diagnosis and treatment of cancer was what I believe about God and who I am in
relation to Him. I also couldn’t deny the repeated experience of what I
could only describe as ‘Spirit saturated’ times with hospital workers and
others in treatment.
Unfortunately much of what happens in
life does not come with an instruction manual, and yet we need to respond,
somehow, to what we experience. What informs our responses seems, to me,
to be vitally important. We need to know what we believe, and why, as this
affects how we see the world and how we respond to it. Our minds need
robust and vigorously thought-out views which make sense of and support
the rigors of life – either to help us process events in our own lives, or when
we spend time working with others.
For the Theology and Counselling course
at the London School of Theology (LST) we teach that the most effective
tool a counsellor takes into the counselling room is themselves. Therefore
self-awareness - knowing what we think, believe, and why - is fundamental in
the ability to walk in the sacred path of the care of others.
So there I was, with the words “We
are fairly sure you have a rare carcinoma we don’t know much
about” echoing around me. In that moment, when I was faced with the
ultimate question which demanded an answer, in the face of possible death, of
everything being stripped away: what stands?
I stared at my young son and felt shock
and horror but amazingly, underneath it all, a profound clarity. I found
that what I was experiencing was supported by the theology I had studied
at LST. Themes such as: God’s sovereignty, my purpose even in the face of
death, the pervasiveness and persona of the Holy Spirit, healing and what
it means, the ecclesia, and the call to care for a broken
world… I could go on, yet it would suffice to say, I experienced
each of these in a new and profound way with thanks to the exceptional
grounding I received as a student at LST.
Rather than feeling tossed around by my
illness and all it entailed I experienced what I can only guess it might
have been like when Jesus calmed the storm for his disciples. The trauma
of my illness did not disappear, and yet there was a calling of order in a
chaotic and scary world through my understanding of the nature of
God.
I love being a counsellor, and teaching
counselling is a gift and privilege. I fervently believe in the body of
Christ being an effective healer in the world. The tools of therapy we
teach through the various counselling courses at LST are equipping people
to be Christ’s hands and feet in a hurting world.
However, without knowing what we believe
and why, I wonder how truly effective we are? I believe that it’s not
what happens to us in life, but what we believe about what’s happening,
that affects our experience of it. Our underpinning philosophies and beliefs
will affect how we connect to God, others and ourselves.
The Theology and Counselling team is
passionate about training well-equipped and skilled counsellors,
pastors, missionaries, youth workers and carers grounded in a profound
understanding of God and His word. We are inspired by Christ’s words
calling His followers to be ‘like a wise man who built his house on the
rock’ (Matthew 7:24).
Some people I talk to question whether
they can afford to do the LST Theology and Counselling course. My reply:
Can you afford not to…?
This was first published in LST’s own
magazine, Insight (Volume 2, Issue 3). Click the image below to
read the original article and the other contributors to this super publication.
If you want to hear more, you can listen to
my recent preach in LST Chapel by clicking on the image below. As well as my sermon you can hear a rich
variety of in-house and visiting speakers.
Kirsty Annable
Lecturer in Counselling and part of the Student Pastoral
Support Team at LST.
Described by her colleagues as ‘Real, warm,
caring, pastoral and funny, sometimes irreverent but having a deeply
spiritual core.’
