"You are the only person I've told this to"

This week is a crazy work week. For one of the days, out of a 8.5hr workday, I counselled for 5.5hrs. Two different ladies, with different issues, different ways of expressing their anguish, different reasons for not wanting to continue with their lives. Both of whom don't know God. They have heard of Him, but openly tell me they prefer retaining Him as a distanced sideliner. And yet, they yearn for me to give them comfort that will soothe their pain that is so deeply entrenched. To suggest solutions that will act as anti-depressants, or pain-killers that will numb the feelings of suffering they can't do anything about anymore. To point them in the way I think they should walk in, only to reject the Way.

I seldom do, but I teared with the both of them. For different reasons, or rather, I should say I identified with the different aspects of their story, their suffering. Not too professional? Maybe. But at that moment, I'd rather be humane than to differentiate myself from normal reactions.

The first lady told me she'd been abused by various trusted people in her life during her growing up years. Even when she drew all the courage she had to tell someone about what had happened, that person chose to look the other way. After one over decade, she looks at her life and realises that everything is crumbling around her. She is unable to trust. Unable to get close to anyone. Unable to believe anyone will love her unconditionally, even God.

The second lady is grieving. Her child passed away sometime ago. He died suddenly. It started with a mild condition, but before she knew it, he was admitted into hospital and overnight, he became braindead. He was the apple of her eye. Perfect baby. She asked me, how does a mother ever learn to live without her child? I asked myself, how can a mother ever forget how it felt when she felt her baby's first kick, how it felt when she breastfed him, how her tiredness from a long working day can totally dissipate when he gives her his hug of the day?

She wanted me to help her to forget ever having him in her life. Becos the memories of him was everywhere, and was becoming too painful. She freaked out the other day when she realised that his scent on his baby pillow was fading and she didn't know how to capture and keep the scent. What pain. What heartache.

As a counsellor, what do I tell these two hurting souls? I don't believe I understand how they feel. I can't tell them they will get better soon. The burden becomes unexplainably heavier when they say, "You are the only person I've told this to". SIGH.

Jesus, come. God, only You can come into their lives and make life more bearable each day. I pray Your peace to sweep through them like an all-emcompassing ocean and for Your presence to become an invisible companion to them to walk with them through this rough patch...