Sentilong Ozukum
Mental illness—depression, anxiety, PTSD—these aren't just disorders; they're deep valleys where many of us find ourselves, wondering if God's light can penetrate such depths. The answer, resoundingly, is yes. Not because faith magically dispels these shadows, but because our God is intimately acquainted with sorrow. In His Word, we find not just comfort but companionship in our pain. Let’s look at some of our Biblical heroes.
• King David was depressed (Psalm 13:1)
• Job was hopeless (Job 3, 7, 15, 16)
• Elijah was suicidal (1 Kings 19)
• King Solomon hated life (Ecclesiastes 2:17)
• Jeremiah wished he had never been born (Jer 15:10)
The Bible doesn't hide these stories. We don't have to either. We can't heal what's hidden.
Mental illness doesn’t discriminate. The wealthy and the poor, the successful and the defeated - we are all susceptible. Mental illness is not a modern malady or a Western construct. It's a universal human experience, transcending culture, class and achievement. Here are some of our worldly heroes.
• Abraham Lincoln battled severe depression, once writing, "I am now the most miserable man living."
• Winston Churchill called his depression the "black dog," a companion throughout his life.
• J.K. Rowling, creator of Harry Potter's magical world, once contemplated suicide.
• Michael Phelps, the most decorated Olympian, shared his struggles with depression and anxiety.
The World Health Organization's statistics are a global lament:
• Every 40 seconds, someone dies by suicide—over 700,000 annually.
• For each suicide, there are 20+ attempts.
• Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death for ages 15-24, 4th for ages 15-29.
• Depression increases suicide risk by 20 times.
These numbers aren't just data; they're desperate prayers, many unspoken in church pews. Contrary to what some of us have been taught, preached or believe, Mental illness is not a sin. The Bible doesn't treat mental anguish as a sidebar. Consider these facts.
• Over one-third of the Psalms are laments—raw outpourings of grief, confusion, and even anger at God.
• An entire book, Lamentations, is dedicated to expressing sorrow.
• Paul speaks of being "under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself" (2 Corinthians 1:8).
I wonder if that means our lament, our grief can be as much worship as anything else we do. The Bible shows over and over that God would rather we yell at him than walk away from Him.
Sadly, some Christian circles offer reductive views.
• "Depression is a sin." (Yet, Jesus, sinless, was "a man of sorrows.")
• "More faith, less anxiety." (Yet Paul, apostolic giant, battled a "thorn" causing distress)
• "Just pray; don't see a therapist." (Yet Luke, author of two New Testament books, was a physician)
God uses both prayer and professionals. Mental illness is not a sin. You can love Jesus and see a therapist too. You can love Jesus and take medication too.
Jesus never separated spiritual and mental health. His ministry was comprehensive:
• He engaged the Gerasene man, mentally tormented, with compassion (Mark 5).
• To the woman bent over for 18 years, possibly from trauma, He spoke freedom (Luke 13).
• He wept at Lazarus's tomb, validating grief (John 11).
• His final words included feelings of abandonment: "My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46).
What if churches became sanctuaries for the mentally wounded?
• Preach on biblical figures who battled mental illness.
• Offer sermons on Jesus's acquaintance with sorrow.
• Host mental health professionals for workshops.
• Train leaders to recognize signs of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts.
• Create small groups for those battling mental illness and their families.
• Teach that seeking therapy or taking medication isn't a faith failure.
Imagine the impact it would have.
• A teenager with anxiety hears John’s life lesson: "He who fears has not been made perfect in love" (1 John 4:18).
• A mother battling postpartum depression learns of Hannah's deep anguish (1 Samuel 1).
• A grieving widower finds solace in Jesus's tears at Lazarus's tomb. (John 11:35)
• A CEO battling burnout finds solace in Elijah's exhaustion and God's gentle restoration (1 Kings 19:4-12).
• A perfectionistic student with an eating disorder relates to Paul's inner battle with sin (Romans 7:15,24).
• An addict six months sober clings to Peter's story of failure and reaffirmation (John 21:15-17).
• A woman with bipolar disorder sees her emotional swings in Jeremiah's passionate highs and lows (Jeremiah 20:9,14).
• A pastor's wife with high-functioning depression resonates with Abraham's hidden doubts (Genesis 17:17).
• A teenager who self-harms finds hope in Jacob's transformative wrestling and lasting mark (Genesis 32:28).
• An elder depressed after losing status finds kinship with Job's total losses (Job 7:6).
• A young adult questioning sexuality wrestles like Nicodemus, drawn yet conflicted (John 3:2).
• A widow with persistent depressive disorder finds comfort in Anna's decades of devotion after loss (Luke 2:37).
For those who are battling Mental Illness, Depression & Anxiety, remember this: Feeling depressed doesn’t mean you lack faith any more than being happy means you have it. Here is what you can do.
• Voice It: Half of the Psalms show it's okay to lament.
• Seek Help: Like Naaman sought Elisha, seek professionals.
• Take Medication: If Paul advised Timothy to use wine for his stomach, you can use what helps your brain.
• Find Community: As David had Jonathan, find trustworthy friends.
• Small Steps: Like the blind man's two-stage healing, recovery often comes gradually.
Remember, the same Jesus who said, "Take heart! I have overcome the world" also admitted, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow" . His victory didn't bypass suffering; it went through it. So can ours. Mental illness isn't a detour from faithful living; for many, it's the very road they're called to walk. Not alone, but with a Savior well-acquainted with sorrows. And with a church that, at its best, doesn't just talk about the wounded man by the roadside but, like the Samaritan, stops, binds up wounds, and provides ongoing care.
In sharing our struggles, in seeking help, in navigating therapy and medication alongside prayer and Scripture, we're not denying our faith. We're living it out, offering God our whole selves—scars, chemicals, and all.
And in doing so, we extend His kingdom into the very shadows many think He can't reach.
