What is your path?

I teach a practicum class for all doctoral marital and family therapy students in which we explore appropriate, ethical ways to address religio-spiritual issues in therapy. It's usually a really wonderful experience, what with all the religious diversity we have in our program. There is a richness that can only emerge when there are differences to compare your own beliefs against.

Our clinic was in the process of moving to a new location last week, so our practicum class site was in an uproar. we had no DVD player and there were boxes stacked up around the room. Students are required to share at least three videotapes of themselves doing therapy with clients, in which they explore or somehow address spiritual practices or beliefs of their clients. Well, it just wasn't going to happen in that mess of a place we had last week. So thinking quickly and creatively, I asked students if they would be willing to share their own spiritual journey up to that point. There were only six of us present, and it seems that everyone was in the mood for opening up.

One after another stammered through stories that included incredible pain and loss, confusion, family trauma and breakups, and uncertainty about organized religion. There were lots of tears. A student would confess, "I've never said this to anyone before--I've been so mixed up and ashamed..." only to have another student tag onto their comment with a similar story of their own. We all shed tears at one point or another. I found it incredibly moving. Students divulged beliefs that to me are heretical, but that have real meaning for them. Yet somehow, it was clear that they are all reaching forward toward God in one way or another. And everyone present was respectful and eager to hear their stories.

As we were ending class two students pointed out that I had not shared my spiritual journey. Would I be willing to talk about this to the class next week? How could I say no?

Surprisingly (to me), I cried all the way home. As I reflected on my spiritual journey, I could see that the times of the greatest spiritual learning were the times when I was suffering the most. I wonder if that is how it is with most people. There is something about feeling helpless and overwhelmed with pain that makes a person lean on God. Maybe, it makes us cling to God because there is no one else. The review of the losses and disappointments was quite painful.

Tonight on the way home from work, I talked aloud, preparing to tell the students my story tomorrow night. Pain is awful. Yet it is also the vehicle for God to become real to many people. I am grateful, even as I lick my wounds.