It all seems so unlikely.
Why would anyone want to sit down with me?
Granted, I can turn a phrase and bring a smile or laugh on a fairly regular basis.
I have a way with words which often delights and intrigues I've been told.
But that's not what therapy is about.
Therapy is about listening.
And I get antsy.
Want to advise and instruct.
I've got answers,
or so I thought.
That's the thing, though.
Lately I wonder about almost all of my answers.
Whether or not they be sound.
Lead me, Lord.
Lead me in thy righteousness.
Make my way straight before Thee.
For it is thou, Lord.
Thou Lord only
Who makes me to dwell in safety.
And to be of any lasting help.