Counselling the People of the Prairies

Walking through the door, I looked at the panel of people seated at the table in front of me. Warm smiles and curious glances gazed back. I took my seat, tightly gripping the folder in my hand. Nervousness mixed with excitement filled me as I sat down for the interview.

I was fresh out of graduate school, having graduated with my master’s degree in counselling psychology from a large university on the Canadian Prairies.

I couldn’t help but wonder if any of these people knew this wasn’t the first time I’d walked through these doors. This Christian counselling centre that helped so many people over the past thirty years had also been a refuge for my hurting heart.

Memories washed over me from my teen years, when my exasperated mother hauled me off to meet with a Christian counsellor. I’d walked through these same doors and found myself sitting across the desk from a middle-aged lady. At the time, I was angry, hurt, and had no desire to talk to anyone. Yet somehow, through her warm, kind demeanour and engaging questions, she gained my trust.

Years later, after serving long-term as a global worker in war-torn Eastern Europe, I was returning home, depleted and burned out. Witnessing the aftermath of a brutal war, along with the trauma and grief inflicted on innocent people, shattered basic assumptions I carried about humanity, the nature of good and evil, and God’s intervention in the world. Once again, I found myself entering the doors of this Christian counselling centre with a load too heavy for my twenty-something soul to carry.

Saskatchewan is known as the “land of living skies.”¹

Growing up here, I understand the origin of this slogan firsthand. I’ve watched the sky painted with glorious hues of red, orange, and yellow as the sun sets over the North Saskatchewan River. I’ve seen the dark night sky lit up by the dancing northern lights casting their ribbons of white, green, and purple across the great prairie expanse.

From the chair in my clinical office, I witnessed the lives of the people of the Prairies. I cried with mothers who lost their children too soon, asking why God would allow this to happen. I sat with farmers, weary of trying to survive another year financially, uncertain if God heard their prayers. I held space for youth, arms covered in scars from self-harm, searching for hope and meaning.

This clinical landscape showed me that people bring hard theological questions to the counselling space. It also demonstrated the vital need for safe counselling spaces where hard theological questions can be processed with caring, competent Christian mental health professionals.

The emerging generation, known as Generation Z, are more likely to experience mental health issues than any previous generation.² While daunting, the good news is that 68 percent consider themselves religious and recognize a positive correlation between their religious commitments and mental health flourishing.³ These youth also demonstrate a strong willingness to access therapy and to personally pay for effective mental health care, even if it’s not covered by their health benefits.⁴