the fire journey

Depression is something that I have struggled with for a long time. It’s not that I’m thinking about sad things. It’s not simply a feeling. It envelops all of me, and anything and everything I try to think or do is tainted by the heaviness of it. The only thing I know to do is to not to try to avoid it, but to let it run its course, and do things to combat it, like utilize a distraction or go for a walk. Even though it can be very hard to do anything when I am in the midst of it, usually making myself do something helps a lot. And oftentimes spending time with someone supportive can be helpful, too.

But it wasn’t until a conversation I had recently with an old friend that I realized that some people have genuinely never experienced it. And among those who have never experienced it or been close to someone who experiences it, there is still so much stigma.

Bring up depression and you might get told to pray more. Or to have more joy. Or that “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle” (which, by the way, is a nice idea but complete bogus. God gives us more than we can handle so that we learn to rely on him). Bring up the topic of suicidality, and many people don’t know what to do with it. I have heard some claim that suicidality signifies a lack of hope in Jesus, and some even claim that suicide is an unforgiveable sin and that anyone who commits suicide goes to hell. But these claims are not rooted in scripture. They’re rooted in misunderstanding and ignorance.

The problem is, many people are slow to educate themselves about mental illnesses but quick to judge. We often have too many opinions about lives we haven’t lived.

Being told to pray more is not helpful. Issues like clinical depression are not due to a lack of prayer. I prayed countless prayers several years ago that God would take the highs and lows of bipolar away from me. But it isn’t always like that. Just as God doesn’t always heal physical conditions like diabetes or asthma, we can’t expect him to always heal us of mental illness just because we pray about it. He can heal us. But not being healed does not mean we don’t have enough faith. It simply means he has a better plan. (Sidenote: Sometimes his better plan involves or comes in the form of a medication that works.)

Being told to “have more joy” can also be very discouraging. Because not only does that imply that joyfulness is synonymous with happiness, but it implies that clinical depression determines the state of your heart. When I was at my lowest of lows, it wasn’t because I didn’t have hope in Jesus for my salvation – it was because of neurotransmitters in my brain.

To Christians who don’t struggle with depression: help break the stigma. Start by educating yourself about mental illness, being intentional about making safe spaces, and normalizing mental health treatment by not only accepting others decisions to seek professional help, but encouraging it.

And to any other Christians who struggle with depression: I have found that the best thing to do in the midst of it is simply to keep doing what you know to do. Keep going to church, even when you don’t feel like worshipping and your brain wants you to isolate yourself from others. Keep reading scripture, even though you probably don’t feel like it. Keep fighting. Keep loving. Keep going.

“Through Christ, the miraculous can happen,” writes Julie Busler, author of Joyful Sorrow. “A mentally ill mind can also be a sound mind. I’ve learned that my mind with depression and PTSD can also grasp scripture, pursue holiness, have wisdom, and a flourishing relationship with Jesus. And yes, the medical world has helped me immensely, but only I can choose to follow the Holy Spirit’s prompting to boast in my weakness and humbly depend on God, because with ‘the humble [the teachable who have been chiseled by trial and who have learned to walk humbly with God] there is wisdom and soundness of mind (Proverbs 11:2 AMP).”