She wears in her body the scars of one hurt and confused, and her eyes tell the story.
She bears the weight of yesterday and the relentless burdens of today, her shoulders tense, head bowed, heart sagging under the load.
She hesitates, and fumbles nervously, and speaks cautiously, her soul longing for safety and learning to trust.
I see her: the young woman who enters my counseling room.
I see distance and brokenness and wounds. I see trauma, grief, and shame. I see dozens of experiences and circumstances and questions. I see layers and patterns, perspectives and beliefs.
But at the core of it all, I see her. A woman much like me – in need of hope.
And so, in the counseling room, I offer her hope. For an hour a week, over the course of a year, in that comfy little room with the two yellow chairs, I sit across from her, and I see her.
I take in every verbal plea and every silent one. I see her expressions, watch her emotions, and observe her person. From a place of deep love and compassion, I hear and listen and pour every ounce of energy into understanding. And when the time is right, I speak into her space. Though my words are not always sufficient, I gently and boldly speak Truth. Life. Hope.
For there is a God who sees. And He is her Hope.
He knows her name and sees her tears. He understands her pain and grief like no one else and becomes to her an unparalleled source of Comfort and Peace. He looks into the aching, empty crevices of her being and offers to fill her with Himself.
And as her heart opens to the One who knows her most, her hope becomes more than a forgotten dream.
She relaxes her hold and bares her soul as chains fall and walls begin to crumble around her.
She seeks answers and learns truth. She courageously presses onward and perseveres in the fight for a new life.
She experiences forgiveness and healing and redemption. She sees a promising future and learns to dream again.
By the sweet grace and mercy of God, the woman who enters the counseling room is not the same as the woman who leaves, for her soul has been captured by the God who sees.
So she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, “You are a God of seeing,”
for she said, “Truly here I have seen him who looks after me.”
Submitted by a SH Counselor