I wrote the following for my denomination’s women’s ministry email for June.
When I was growing up, due to frequent relocations (8 schools in 12 years) I was always the new kid on the block. That, along with being extremely shy, meant that I rarely had more than one person I would consider a close friend. I never went to a church that had a youth group, and I probably wouldn’t have attended if they did. Then I went off to a Christian college that had about 2000 students. Once I adjusted to dorm life, I discovered a whole new world of Christian friendships. I realize now what a blessing it was to have a close community of people to live, learn, and worship with every day. Even though I went through some difficult struggles during those years, including major depression that caused me to lose my job as a resident assistant my junior year, I knew there were people just down the hall who cared about me and were looking out for me.
Fast forward to 1997 and moving to Charlotte, living alone, a new job, and a new church. There have been many times over the years that I’ve felt isolated and lonely. Then along came the pandemic, a pastoral transition at my church, even more isolation and an extended season of depression, and the opportunities for close friendships often seem few and far between.
May was Mental Health Awareness month, and I’ve been listening to some podcasts on mental illness from Christian sources. One series in particular, “Things You Won’t Hear on Sunday,” has been an encouraging reminder that other Christians struggle with these issues too. In one episode they mention a person who came over and lay down on the floor beside his severely depressed friend and kept speaking words of hope to him. That is a beautiful picture of the Body of Christ at its best—coming alongside, stooping low, lifting up those who are wounded, weary, and weak. I know when I’m burdened with clinical depression I don’t have the energy or willpower even to think of who I could call to come over, much less the desire to actually pick up the phone and do it. That’s when I wonder whether the church knows what it means to be one Body in Christ (Eph. 4:4), loving one another (1 Jn. 4:7), and weeping with those who weep (Rom. 12:15).
All too often we’ve allowed culture to influence our choices. A “friend” is now someone who has your social media contact info. Remote work is seen as a “necessity” because it is more efficient and productive. “Faith” is between you and God and the church is irrelevant. Really? Last I checked, Jesus reaffirmed that the first two commandments were to love God and to love others (Luke 10:27-28). As an email from Women of Joy commented, “loving others is pretty difficult when you’re not around others.” It’s impossible to fulfill all the “one another” commands in isolation.
There is a lot of stigma surrounding mental illness. Many of us work hard to hide our struggles out of fear of being rejected, judged for our “weakness” and “lack of faith,” and shame because it seems like no one else has this difficulty. Just because someone can make it to work and smile at people doesn’t mean they aren’t dealing with serious depression, anxiety, or other issues. It can be hard to know who is struggling if you don’t take the time to build deep friendships first. I would challenge everyone to look around and see who might be feeling extra weary and burdened, and do whatever you can to come alongside them. Those who most need encouragement and support may be unable or afraid to ask for it.
© 2023 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.
