Page 46

I don’t elaborate.

Not yet.

“And during all of that...” I search for the right words. “The people I thought would be there...weren’t.”

He doesn’t interrupt.

Doesn’t try to fill the silence.

Doesn’t tell me they weren’t real Christians.

Doesn’t tell me every church is different.

He just lets me keep talking.

“I spent a long time trying to figure out if what I experienced was normal.”

I shake my head.

“It wasn’t.”

I look out the window for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“And I remember thinking how different things might’ve been if I’d had someone to talk to.”

Someone who would’ve listened.

Someone who wouldn’t have tried to fix everything.

Someone who would’ve simply sat with me while I figured out how to put the pieces back together.

“I think that’s when I realized,” I say softer now. “I wanted to become that person for someone else.”

Luke lets it sit for a moment.

“So you’re a biblical counselor?”

I laugh softly and shake my head.

“No.”

“No?”

“I mean...” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “My faith is…growing. But I’m a licensed therapist.”

He nods, encouraging me to continue.

“I work with Christians, people from other religions, people with no faith at all. Married couples. Teenagers. Veterans. People with anxiety. Grief. Trauma.”

“My office isn’t a church.”

I shrug.

“It’s just a place where people get to be honest.”

Luke nods slowly.

“I like that.”