23
Bart knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
He opened it. “Hi, Dr. Danforth. I know we didn’t have an appointment.”
“Not a problem, Bart. Come on in and sit down.”
Even though she wasn’t his advisor, he’d always felt closer to her than to Dr. Markles. He sat down. “I…I’m not sure where to start.”
“Then let me start. I’m so sorry about your mother. It’s incredibly hard to lose a parent at any age.”
He nodded, not sure he could even speak. “Thanks,” he croaked.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Finally, Bart found his courage. “I…I’m thinking about quitting.”
Her fingers formed a steeple, and she tapped them together several times. “What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking about quitting college.”
“But you only have one more semester. If it’s about money because of your mother’s death, we’ll find a way.”
He shook his head. “It’s not about money. It’s about…my faith.”
“What do you mean?” she asked again.
He looked down at his hands. “I don’t have any. It wouldn’t be right for me to graduate with a degree in divinity and spiritual counseling when I don’t believe in God any longer.”
“I see. I’ve known you for four years, Bart. And in all that time, you’ve been one of the most faithful believers I’ve ever known.”
“A lot of good that did. My mom still died. If there were a God, He wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Why would you say that?”
He looked up in surprise. “I don’t know. It just seems…” His words trailed off. He didn’t have any answers. “Unfair. If God loved me, He wouldn’t have done that to me.”
“I don’t want to be cruel, but people die, Bart. That’s a hard fact. It might not seem fair to us, but we’re born, we live, and then we die. Some of us sooner rather than later. Dying is a part of life.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Nobody does, but that doesn’t mean God isn’t real or that He doesn’t love you. This is the time when you need to hold Him even closer.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I just don’t believe any more. My faith is just gone.”
“It may seem that way now, but you’re grieving. Grief takes many forms.” She smiled at him. “And because of that, you aren’t quitting anything. I’m proud of you for coming forward and not wanting to perpetuate a fraud. But let me assure you that you’re not.”
“It feels that way to me.”
“Feelings lie. You’ve done the work, and you deserve to graduate with a divinity degree and a counseling license. That license will allow you to work in the public sector as well as in churches. So you see, your degree will still be useful.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Give yourself time to grieve. I have no doubt your faith will return. Just don’t shut God out right now. This is when you need Him the most.”
“I don’t see that happening, but I’m glad I’ll still get to graduate.”
“Of course, you’re graduating. You’ve done the work, and you deserve the diploma.”
“I guess.”
“You’re friends with Nia Johnson, aren’t you?”
“Friends, yes, but nothing more.” It hurt to say those words, but he’d done what he’d had to do for Nia’s sake. And he wouldn’t change his mind just because he missed her so much.
“This is a time you need your friends around you. Don’t be afraid to lean on them. That’s what friends are for.”
“I couldn’t bring myself to even tell her or any of my friends what happened to my mother.”
She nodded. “And as a counselor, can you tell me why that might be the case?”
He thought for a moment. “I guess it’s probably because the more I say the words, the more real her death becomes.”
“And as a counselor, I’m sure you know that’s part of the grieving process.”
He nodded but said nothing.
“Keep reaching for God, Bart. He’ll find you.”
He stood up knowing there wasn’t anything else to say. About God or Nia. “Thanks, Dr. Danforth.”
“You’re very welcome. My door is open for you any time. You know that, right?”