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Finding Jesus on a Couch

TINA SMITH-BROWN

I met Jesus on my therapist couch. Growing up in the ho- spiritual relief when I went. I believed in the benefits of
liness church with a mother who was a minister. I knew the personal life, the one-on-one journey with Christ. I
about Jesus; we had prayer every morning at breakfast, had been taught what that should look and feel like, but
and every evening at dinner. Once a week my mother the experience continued to allude me.
called in every kid on the block for bible study, and if you
happened to come looking for one of her nine you were I found myself at forty on a therapist couch, and there
immediately drafted into session. finally, I found Jesus.

So, yes, I knew all the ten commandments, the stories of As I grew older, I began to realize that taking our issues
Jesus walking on water, the Good Samaritan, and Joseph and problem to the altar sometimes only means get-
and his coat of many colors. The bible came alive for us ting up with sore knees and more burdens. The burden
in Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. We proudly comes from the guilt of knowing your problem has not
clutched our booklets with the stories of the bible: David been left at the altar at all. Sometimes it feels as if it has
and Goliath, Samuel’s call from God in the middle of the multiplied because you feel unworthy, as if you’re not
night, Mary, Joseph and the holy baby Jesus. We mem- “good enough” to be healed. As a pastor’s kid (PK Kid) I
orized all sixty-six books of the bible, and then showed was expected to “do right.” But I didn’t. When I got old
off competing with kids from other churches. We won, enough, I smoked, I drank, and did what the other teens
most times, being taught by the best. around me did. My mother, a single parent for a large
part of my childhood, couldn’t keep up with all nine of
Friday nights service kicked off the spiritual weekend, her children. As she prayed, and worshipped, and listened
which according to the time of the religious season, to preachers for hours on the radio, I slipped through the
could lead to one or two services on Sunday. During the cracks. The guilt piled on with each offense. “God would
fall, during the Pastor’s Rally we travelled from church never love me. God would never accept me. I would never
to church on raising funds to be sent down to Greenville, be good enough.” I continued to live a life that I thought
S.C. for a school no one I knew ever attended. Starting on would be cut short at any moment. I married, separated,
the first day of January, the twelve-night revival kicked raised three kids, none of which I birthed, and worked a
off and we once again visited each church on the district job where I felt caged in and unappreciated.
as they sponsored one of the revival nights. We spent
hours on our knees tarrying, and blistered our hands At forty I began to have horrible panic attacks. For a
beating tambourines with missing cymbals and wicked while, they were crippling. I couldn’t drive my car. I
nails. The drummer set the beat and we followed, dancing struggled to do daily routine things, like paying bills. I
in rhythm to his spirit-filled hands. woke in the middle of the night, short of breath with
my heart beating a mile a minute. At the insistence of
When my mother died, I continue in the church, finding a friend, I went into therapy; that’s when my personal
ways to worship God in my own manner, but not quite experience with Jesus began.
feeling accepted. I knew Jesus, but I didn’t KNOW Jesus.
Around me saints were speaking in tongues, falling to The first thing I need to tell you is that Jesus is not that
the floor in the spirit, dressing in dresses only and saying white guy with blonde hair and blue eyes hanging on
“Praise the lord” every time they answered their phone. your grandmother’s wall. Second, he ain’t that black
I wasn’t doing any of that because it felt phony to me. dude with black curly hair and dark brown piercing eyes,
I knew Jesus, but I didn’t know Jesus – not in the way. either. Jesus is way bigger than the both of those images.
saints around me did. He can’t be caught on canvas or locked in with paint. You
I loved the church and I loved the people but didn’t feel
PAGE 10 can’t symbolize him because he isn’t a symbol. He’s a