I took a deep breath, we shook hands, and I stepped into her office. I deplored the thought of hashing over the history of events which brought me here. I silently cried out that she would simply let me sit quietly as she read the notes of the past seven to eight months already spent in counseling. I mean, all of that work should account for something, right?
While making informal small talk, someone began loudly knocking on the front door. A severe sense of panic overtook me. How did he find me here? He must have had someone watching my every move again. After all, he had been able to give me details of all who had been to the house before I left, where we went after we left, even what I had been wearing in explicit detail at certain points in time.
He had always become severely controlling on days I went for counseling back home. The constant telephone calls, the sudden appearances out of nowhere in the oddest places at the most bizarre times. He could often recount my every step of the day even though he was supposed to have been at work. This was long before the days when phones could be located by GPS. These revelations were not made out of concern, but with an obvious goal of messing with my head. It was his way of attempting to reinforce the fact that I could not escape his watchful eye.
The counselor observed my reaction to the knock at the door with a sincere look of empathy and pain. She excused herself for one moment, apologizing profusely as she stepped out of the room. She returned within seconds, apologizing once again and explained that she and her husband had originally had lunch plans. After talking with my counselor back home, she had been prayerfully expecting my call to set up an appointment. When she had finally received the call, she wanted to meet with me as soon as possible. She had left a message for her husband about the change, but he had failed to receive it.
Immediately I stood up and began gathering my things. In a concerned voice she asked why I was leaving. I simply told her that we could re-schedule, and that lunch with her husband was much more important than her having to sit there listening to me complain. She looked me straight in the eye as if she were searching for the source of my logic. She spoke firmly with a hint of sadness in her tone. After several minutes she spoke. “There aren’t many situations in which I would say this, but I would much rather you be angry at the interruption of your paid hour of counseling than be disturbed about my lunch. We must work hard to find when you lost your sense of value, and we must restore an understanding of your worth in Your Heavenly Father’s eyes.”
Her goal sounded noble, but I had no clue how to get there. I was so confused about who I was period. I had no ability to equate a sense of value to me, my time, or my talents. I certainly could not see how God could value me. Even though I had accepted Him as my Savior as a child, I had completely messed everything up. I had made wrong decisions. I had gotten so far from any kind of Christian walk. I had allowed myself to believe the lie that my prayers were a joke, and that I could never be anything but a hypocrite in God’s eyes or in the eyes of the world. I had even gone so far as to reject God. Praise God, He never rejected or abandoned me!
I had a long, hard road ahead before reaching the point of understanding my value in God’s eyes. The truth is, it has only been over the past couple of years that I have broken through to developing a sincere heart to follow God with abandon. It took time for me to rediscover the true character of my Heavenly Father. As He and I have grown closer, I have begun accepting the fact that I am priceless in His eyes.
Cinderella in Waiting 