Why I think more Christians need therapy.

For 2 months last year, every fortnight I walked into the office of a middle aged white man with mousy brown hair who likes to take photos of war memorials and loves Jesus.

He was my therapist.

I had stalked him on social media before the start of our first session. If I was going to be pouring out my heart to him, I wanted to know certain things about him first (he…