It's My Life - Melody Carlson [51]
To which I laughed and said, “I've never heard of a law prohibiting any professional from practicing his religion.” Then I thought a moment. “Except, perhaps, in school. But I've heard of doctors who pray with their patients, and even attorneys who argue for religious rights. Why can't a Christian psychologist recommend that his patient pray?”
Trent shrugged. “I don't know. I suppose it couldn't hurt.”
“On the contrary, I'm sure it would help.”
His brows raised curiously as he held the library door open for me. “I take it that you must be a Christian then?”
I nodded. “That's right. Do you still want to be my partner?” See, this project is supposed to go on for two whole weeks.
He grinned. “Yeah, I suppose it could get pretty interesting.”
“Well, I'll try not to come on too strong. But I'll do what I think a good Christian psychologist might do.”
“And I'll try to react like a good atheist suffering from depression might act.”
Then I laughed. “No wonder my patient's suffering from depression! I would think anyone who doesn't believe in God would get pretty downhearted. I know I would.”
Trent frowned, but said nothing. And suddenly I wondered if he might actually be an atheist himself. I don't think I've ever actually met a practicing atheist (although Jenny tries to act like it sometimes), but I didn't really mean to offend Trent by saying that.
“Don't mind me,” I said half apologetically. “I just happen to be sold out on God and couldn't imagine my life without Him.”
He sort of smiled then. “Well, then that's cool for you. But it might not be like that for everyone else on the planet.”
“Believe me, I know. It's just hard for me not to want to share something with others that's been so incredibly life changing for me.”
“Yeah, it might be cool to hear a little more about it. You sure don't seem to lack for enthusiasm when it comes to your beliefs.”
By then we'd reached the locker bay and it was time to part ways, but I felt like I still needed to say something. “Well, feel free to ask me anything you like about my relationship with God. I'm pretty much an open book when it comes to my faith.” I laughed. “Or anything else, for that matter.”
“Well, after I'm finished playing the depressed atheist patient, maybe you can play the repressed Christian patient.”
I smiled. “Yes, because as you can clearly see, I must certainly be pretty repressed.”
“Yeah, but the surface can be deceiving sometimes.”
I nodded, not quite sure of how to respond and needing to head to work, I just told him good-bye and hurried on my way. But as I drove to work, I prayed for Trent. Because despite his atheist talk, I suspect he's really searching.
Saturday, October 13 (visiting Jenny)
Beanie and I walked into West Haven at exactly three o'clock. It felt pretty weird too. I mean, I've seen movies with mental hospitals and they all sort of seem alike, and I always figure they just do that for the movies. But West Haven seemed eerily like some of those. It has locking gates and a security check-in, and then you wait in this cold, sterile sort of waiting room, and you hear some pretty strange sounds coming through the reception area (like occasional screams, laughing, and stuff), and it's all a little unnerving. I was so glad that Beanie came with me because she kept making jokes about the whole thing, saying that I better be careful in case they found out about my latest psychological self-diagnosis (the codependent thing) because they just might lock me up too. Which is totally ridiculous because it's not even that kind of disorder. But at least it got us laughing.
Finally, someone came to take us to where Jenny was sitting in a day room. She had her back to us and was looking out a window to where it was raining cats and dogs outside. I was relieved to see she had on real clothes. (I'd been worried she'd be wearing a hospital gown and paper slippers.) But she looked fairly normal in her jeans and sweatshirt.
“Hi, Jenny,” I call out,