I forgot that I knew him. Our pre-marital counselor sat behind his oak desk with a large smile peeking out from under his white mustache. His gentle eyes reassured me. Angel and I slid into the love seat facing him. This, a pre-marital counseling session was my first counseling session. Angel’s, too.
My anxiety grew as I placed where I knew him from. I had taken his daughter to the winter formal a few year’s earlier. My heart rate rose a bit. Unconsciously, I turned on my “make-a-good-impression” mode.
We met with our counselor three times. I didn’t offer him much to work with. Mostly because I didn’t think there was much to offer. But also because I feared his judgment of me. He offered simple but helpful wisdom. We wouldn’t meet with another counselor for twelve years. At that point our marriage was on the brink of divorce.
Solomon reminds us, “Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety” (Prov. 11:14). In case we missed that counsel, he repeats the sentiment three more times (15:22, 20:18, 24:6). I love Solomon’s connection between friendship and counsel: “Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel” (Prov. 27:9). Growing in spiritual maturity gives way to relational intimacy. I am grateful to have received counsel from many wise friends in my life. I have felt the affection of friendship grow with those who have counseled me and those I have counseled.
I haven’t met many who don’t want wisdom. But what are we willing to sacrifice to obtain wisdom? Solomon urges us to pursue wisdom with tenacity, “Get wisdom; get insight; do not forget, and do not turn away from the words of my mouth. Do not forsake her, and she will keep you; love her, and she will guard you. The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight” (Prov. 4:5-7). There is a cost to acquiring wisdom. And if we aren’t willing to make sacrifices, we will squander wise counsel.
The cost of our reputation.
The first cost might be the most expensive: our reputation. If we aren’t willing to give up protecting our reputation, we will waste wise counsel. If we try to control what others think of us while receiving counsel, we will inevitably shield our counselor from the least flattering parts of ourselves. It is only in revealing our weaknesses and sin that we can receive counsel that will be the most helpful to our souls.
The cost of others’ reputation.
When Angel was struggling in her faith and in our marriage, I fearfully chose not to honestly share that with close friends to both protect myself and her. To receive the wisest counsel, we have to lovingly, but truthfully expose ourselves and those we love. If we don’t pay this cost, we will waste our counseling.
The cost of self-reflection.
I’m surprised how often people come into counseling and seem allergic to self-reflection. It takes energy to consider one’s heart. It’s painful to take the risk of uncovering self-deception and sin. But if you do not pay this cost, you will waste your time seeking counsel.
The cost of homework.
Any counselor worth his or her salt will give you homework. Life is busy. The homework will likely push you outside your comfort zone. But don’t expect to make progress without taking the time and energy to make changes between counseling sessions. If you only went to a trainer every other week, you wouldn’t expect to make significant progress on your fitness goals. Don’t expect to make significant progress in your emotional and spiritual health without putting in extra time “after class.”
The cost of risk.
When I sat in front of our pre-marital counselor for the first time, all of a sudden I realized the felt risk I might be taking. Was he trustworthy? Would he hold what I said in confidence or share it with his daughter? Would he share our session with the senior pastor? Could he be unbiased in offering wise counsel? I chose not to take the risk and be transparent with him. I (mostly) wasted his and our time. To maximize your counsel, you must be willing to trust your counselor by being transparent and vulnerable.
With our first counselor, I chose not to be cheap by not paying the costs involved. In our first dozen years of marriage, I accrued debt by choosing not to even go to a counselor. I was foolish. I slowed my own emotional and spiritual growth and placed our marriage in jeopardy. Wise counsel is costly, but it is worth every bit of the cost.
“The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight” (Prov. 4:7).
You may also appreciate:
Photo by TienDat Nguyen on Unsplash