Encouraging Words

As we near the end of Mental Health Awareness Month, I thought I’d share a selection of resources that I’ve found helpful at different times in life, some of which I’ve quoted in prior blog posts. I may not agree with everything these authors and speakers share, but have generally found them to be helpful and encouraging.

Books

Glimmers of Grace, Kathryn Butler

What Does Depression Mean for My Faith? Kathryn Butler

Not Quite Fine: Mental Health, Faith, and Showing Up for One Another, Carlene Hill Byron

Midnight Mercies: Walking with God through Depression in Motherhood, Christine Chappell

Pursuing Health in an Anxious Age, Bob Cutillo

Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for those who Suffer from Depression, Zack Eswine

Darkness Is My Only Companion: A Christian Response to Mental Illness, Kathryn Greene-McCreight

Untangling Emotions, Alasdair Groves and Winston Smith

Companions in the Darkness, Diana Gruver

Blessed Are the Misfits, Brant Hansen

Embodied Hope: A Theological Meditation on Pain and Suffering, Kelly Kapic

You’re Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Good News, Kelly Kapic

Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, Tim Keller

When Darkness Seems My Closest Friend, Mark Meynell

A Christian’s Guide to Mental Illness, David Murray and Tom Karel, Jr.

Christians Get Depressed Too, David Murray

Sacred Endurance: Finding Grace and Strength for a Lasting Faith, Trillia Newbell

I Trust When Dark My Road, Todd Peperkorn (free pdf download!)

God’s Grace in Your Suffering, David Powlison

The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering, Vaneetha Risner

Depression: Looking Up from the Stubborn Darkness, Ed Welch

Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Mark Vroegop

CSB Life Counsel Bible- contains many of the New Growth Press minibook series

Blogs

CCEF Blog

Penetrating the Darkness, Terry Powell

Podcasts

Hope + Help Podcast, Christine Chappell

CCEF Podcast, Alasdair Groves

© 2024 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.

Yes, Mental Illness Exists

A prominent Christian leader is reported to have said recently that “There is no such thing as mental illness.” While I agree that we need to normalize the experience of suffering, mourning, and anxiety within the church, his statement is likely to have the opposite effect, which makes me sad. Those of us who take medication for various mental illnesses don’t need added shame for not being able to cope without them. We feel plenty of shame already, because it feels like everyone else has stronger faith and better coping skills than we do. Even if science can’t explain why, some medications do help some people. They don’t necessarily fix the problems, but they reduce the symptoms enough that we can carry on with daily life and, hopefully, get good, godly counsel as well. As Kathryn Butler notes in a new article from TGC:

“The first stop when seeking help for depression is your primary doctor’s office, but it shouldn’t be the last. While a doctor determines whether an antidepressant will help, it’s critically important to couple any medication with counseling.”

However, godly counseling can be hard to find as well, particularly if one is relying on the local church to provide it. Most pastors and church leaders don’t have the training or the time to provide the deep, long-term counseling that many of their church members need. And depending on their theology, they may create more problems than they solve. I’ve been blessed to find a Christian counselor within the medical system, but available appointments are few. For those with more intensive needs, it can be expensive to get the necessary help.

In the CT 2024 Pastors Special Issue, Jeannie Whitlock writes of Recapturing Wonder in a Cynical Age:

“Many of us haven’t even processed everything we have lost, pushed by a culture that urges us to quickly move on. But as Christian Wiman warns, unaddressed grief will make itself known, showing up in ‘every kind of crying but the kind you can see.’ Our bodies keep the score. Bottled sorrow can metastasize into physical ailments, unexplained fatigue, heartache, weakened immunity, or constant irritation. Yet, many American Christians are terrible at grieving.”

Often times it seems as though the church has lost the art of lament, in part because we’ve forgotten how to bear one another’s burdens. We’ve accepted superficial relationships as “good enough.” If the church were better at all the “one another” commands, there probably would be less need for medications and outside counseling services, but those will never completely go away in this lifetime. We live in a broken world, where our bodies and minds are impacted by sickness, suffering, and sin (our own and others’). Telling people “there’s no such thing as mental illness” is somewhere on the spectrum between “Just deal with it” and “If you just have enough faith you will be healed,” neither of which is helpful or encouraging.

In the midst of writing this, a severe storm moved through the area, providing me with an analogy. The property next to my house was recently clear-cut for building an electrical substation. When the storm came, a large pine tree that was left at the edge of the woods fell across the power lines. Because it no longer had neighboring trees on three sides, it was more susceptible to the wind than it had been before. Likewise, many Christians, and especially those struggling with mental illness, feel like they are on the fringe of church life with little support and protection from the storms of life. We need aid in whatever forms we can get it.

Perhaps we all need the reminder that God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer” (2 Cor. 1:4-6).

“Therefore encourage one another with these words” (1 Thess. 4:18).

© 2024 Dawn Rutan. Image courtesy of SAMHSA.gov. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

In Our Weakness

In a recent podcast from The Gospel Coalition, Ray Ortlund pointed out that in Romans 8:26, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness” it is not plural, weaknesses, but “in our weakness.” He says, “Weakness is not one more experience alongside all these other experiences. Weakness is the foundation or platform on which we have all experiences. We have never known, for one nanosecond in this life, a moment of non-weakness”

We could put it this way: our experiences of particular weaknesses are the things that remind us of our inherent weakness and neediness as fallen creatures, and they should also remind us that God is the one who carries us through. As the Apostle Paul wrote in a verse I return to often, “He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9).

This kind of thinking is antithetical to our Western autonomous culture. Children and youth are taught from an early age that they should be self-confident and self-directed, everyone is a winner, follow your heart, feeling bad means something needs to be fixed or changed. Affirmation is the mantra of the day, even if it means affirming them in life-changing decisions and relationships that we know are anti-biblical.

In another podcast that I’ve come across, The Care Ministry, guest Monica Coleman refers to being called by God to break the silences and stigma about those areas of mental health that are so often kept silent even in the church. In many ways, I feel that describes my own calling. I got tired of trying to hide depression and pretending that everything is “fine and dandy.” Life is hard, and mental illness is one particular weakness that many people wrestle with in silence. It is a constant reminder that we’re not the strong, self-assured people that society, and often the church, says we’re supposed to be.

And since I need all the encouraging words I can find, in another of my favorite podcasts from Immanuel Nashville, Barnabas Piper preached on Mark 9 and the man whose son was suffering from an unclean spirit. This was the father who proclaimed, “I believe, help my unbelief!” Piper notes that faith and doubt can coexist. “Doubts are uncomfortable, especially if you have grown up in a church context… ‘I believe’ is a profession of faith, and ‘help my unbelief’ is the prayer of faith… Faith is not measured in certainty, but by trusting Jesus with our needs.”

We are all weak and needy people. Pretending we have no doubts or struggles not only keeps us from seeking strength and help from God, but also isolates us from one another in our many times of need. Someone recently made a comment to me, and perhaps I misunderstood their intent, but it sounded like they were saying that people put on a happy face at church because that’s how they want to feel and what they think will encourage other people. But for those who are aware of their own weakness and trials, that is just one more barrier to connecting with others in a meaningful way.

I feel like a hypocrite when I plaster on a smile and join in singing songs that imply that God heals every weakness and wound in this lifetime. I know that in the resurrection He will do so, but as long as we live in this broken world we’ll have to wrestle with sin, doubt, weakness, and sorrow. To pretend that we are above such things is to join the Pharisees and to lay heavy burdens on the shoulders of those who don’t measure up (Matt. 23:4). Instead, let us acknowledge our weakness and “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Gal. 6:2-3).

© 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.

Be Aware, Take Care

We’re nearing the end of Mental Health Awareness Month. One of the things I’ve read and heard from multiple sources is the idea that our culture has pathologized normal human experiences in many ways, and the church is not immune from such perceptions. We know we live in a fallen world with broken bodies. Yet instead of accepting that fact and finding ways to cope with our own brokenness and support others in their brokenness, we look for diagnoses and treatments that will take away anything that we think is less than ideal. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) has grown from 130 pages in its first edition to almost 1000 pages in the fifth edition. Normal experiences of grief, anxiety, or just being a little different from your peers are now seen as something that needs to be fixed.

I’m not saying that mental illness doesn’t exist. I know it does because I take medication for it every day. (I will say that the medication doesn’t remove the problem, it just makes it more bearable.) I also know that God uses all kinds of difficult experiences to draw people closer to Him. I’m regularly reminded that my weakness is meant to make me rely on His strength; my sorrow presses me to go to Him for comfort; my anxieties cause me to pray for His guidance and provision; and my quirky way of seeing things allows me to serve God in ways that others can’t.

A couple podcasts I’ve listened to recently have brought out good points. One said that the rise of “helicopter parents,” who try to protect their kids from any kind of adversity, has produced a generation of young people who don’t know how to cope with normal life. Another pointed out how Christians take verses like Philippians 4:6, “Do not be anxious about anything,” out of context and beat people over the head with it for their “sinful” lack of faith. Many Christians have adopted a type of health and wealth gospel that says if you just have enough faith you’ll never have any anxiety or sorrow, and you can go through life with a smile on your face at all times. That simply isn’t true, because that is not the world we live in.

Jesus Himself was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Is. 53:3), and He sweat drops of blood in Gethsemane as He knew what was ahead for Him (Luke 22:44). I heard someone say that if we could have seen Jesus’ face as He told His disciples “Do not be anxious about tomorrow” (Matt. 6:34), we would know that this was not a harsh command to be obeyed, but a gentle, loving reminder that God is in control. I was reading one resource that was trying to make the point that depression is not always a result of sin, but they went on to heap guilt on those who “refuse to take the necessary steps to find healing in your life” (supposedly based on James 4:17). Such a statement is not in line with the gentle correction that comes from those who love God and love one another.

One podcast from Russell Moore and Curtis Chang urges us to use our feelings of anxiety as a pointer to what things we fear losing in the future, so we can learn to give those to God. Sometimes we allow anxiety about the future or regret and sorrow about the past to keep us from living well in the present. Sometimes we need help through medication and counseling to be able to better handle the things God allows to come into our lives. Those can be part of God’s common means of grace in this broken world.

If those in the church were more willing to talk about their struggles with anxiety, depression, feeling out of place, and yes, even sin, perhaps we’d all become better at encouraging and supporting those who need a listening ear or a hug. We were never meant to go through this life alone, nor to stoically pretend that everything is sunshine and flowers all the time. (There’s also poison ivy, which I’m also taking medication for!)

May we be the hands and arms and eyes and ears of Christ for those in need.

“For everything there is a season... a time to weep, and a time to laugh, and time to mourn, and a time to dance... a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose... a time to keep silence, and a time to speak...” (Eccl. 3:1-8).

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© 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.

Hello, Darkness

I’m a little late for Mental Illness Awareness Week (the first week of October), but thought I should go ahead and post this anyway. Every year I dread the coming of autumn because for many years it has meant an increase in depression symptoms starting around Labor Day. Sometimes that includes unexpected “crying attacks,” or as I’ve also referred to them, the depressive equivalent of panic attacks. After that happened one time recently, I shared with a friend that this is frustratingly familiar territory.

Today I was reading an article in the November issue of Guideposts. The author heard from someone who experienced panic attacks: “I used to fight those panic attacks. Now I just try to see them as a familiar part of me. When I feel one coming on, I say, ‘Hello, old friend,’ and I talk to it. All the power fizzes out of it.” Although I haven’t tried that particular tactic with depression, that’s the kind of accepting attitude I am trying to cultivate. I can’t change whatever is going on in my body, and medications don’t help during these months, so my only option is to accept and endure with as much grace as possible.

I was reminded of Simon & Garfunkel’s words in The Sound of Silence, “Hello, darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again.” But the reason I feel compelled to write this comes later in the song, “‘Fools,’ said I, ‘You do not know silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you.’” Chronic or recurring depression is one of those private battles that are often endured silently. It feels like it takes too much effort to make people understand, and we don’t have the energy to maintain relationships during these times. We feel like we’re carrying cement blocks on our backs and we can’t get rid of them. Many of us continue to work only because we have bills to pay, but we’d rather crawl in a hole and sleep until spring.

We don’t need sermons on joy or lectures on positive thinking. We need reminders that we are loved in the midst of the battle, and that God is present in the darkness even though we can’t see Him. Endurance is possible, but we can’t do it alone. We need support, which may range anywhere from an encouraging word and prayer to medication and hospitalization, depending on the person. I tried for a long time to get through on my own strength, but I learned several years ago that I need to let other people inside so they can fight the battle for me and with me.

John Piper wrote the following in Desiring God, and it’s also included as the devotion for October 29 in Solid Joys:

“All experiences of suffering in the path of Christian obedience, whether from persecution or sickness or accident, have this in common: They all threaten our faith in the goodness of God, and tempt us to leave the path of obedience. 

“Therefore, every triumph of faith, and all perseverance in obedience, are testimonies to the goodness of God and the preciousness of Christ — whether the enemy is sickness, Satan, sin, or sabotage. Therefore, all suffering, of every kind, that we endure in the path of our Christian calling is a suffering ‘with Christ’ and ‘for Christ.’”

So for those of you who share this present darkness, don’t give up and don’t go silent. Let others in so they can be praying for you and supporting you as best they can. And for those who are our friends, take seriously the call to pray for us, bear our burdens, and love us as brothers and sisters in Christ. We thank you.

© 2017 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated all images are copyright free from pixabay.com.

Keep On Keeping On

I've been trying for a couple days to write this post following the apparent suicide of Robin Williams. I've been hesitant to try to say what others can say, and many others have already made their contributions. 

What I do know is that there will be a rash of suicides as some people will think, "If he can't hang on, why should I?" Robin Williams appeared to have the skills to deflect any situation with humor, but he hid behind a facade, as do many of us. I think of him in roles such as Patch Adams and Good Will Hunting, where the characters dealt with psychiatric illness through building relationships, and I wonder whether he took those lessons to heart? He seemed to have the resources to get whatever help he needed, but he chose not to do so. 

Shame can be a factor that prevents people from getting help. Mental illness continues to carry a stigma despite the efforts of many to change that. And shame is just the flip side of pride. We don't want to be looked down upon, but we also don't want your sympathy. Someone has said that the worst thing about having cancer is that every conversation revolves around that. Just as the cancer patient doesn't want that to become his identity, the person with mental illness doesn't want to be treated as a victim either. 

What we do want is your continuing love and support. You don't have to have all the answers. Just be understanding when we don't feel up to being social, or we can't stop crying for no reason. Don't promise us false hope, but remind us of God's promises to be with us in all things. 

One blog I read advised people not to use trite expressions like "If you're considering suicide please talk to a friend." The author's reasoning was that: 1) talking is the last thing you feel like doing, and 2) most of our friends are unequipped to deal with a real crisis. While there is some truth to that, I think that true friendships are perhaps the first line of defense for the person struggling with depression. Friends remind us that we are loved, that we matter to someone, and that there is life outside the counselor's office or the darkened living room. Friends can be a connection to the "real" world that we might otherwise lose if we are prone to isolation. 

There are a lot of lies that can creep into our thinking if we're not careful: I should be able to deal with this on my own; I can't talk about this because everybody thinks I'm fine, or else they've heard it all before; I'm never going to feel any better so I might as well stop trying; no one will care if I'm gone, or conversely, it would serve them right to lose me; and many other variations. 

I take courage from stories of people like Pastor John Newton, who stuck by his friend and fellow hymn writer William Cowper through ongoing depression and multiple suicide attempts, and others like Charles Spurgeon, who continued preaching and writing despite serious depression and physical ailments. (See John Piper's short book When the Darkness Will Not Lift for these stories and other resources- http://www.desiringgod.org/books/when-the-darkness-will-not-lift.)

I would offer just a few pieces of advice. First for those who have friends battling depression:

1) Don't judge what you don't understand. Learn more, ask questions, and don't jump to conclusions. 

2) Love your friends well, in word and in deed. It's easy to assume that people know how you feel and therefore neglect to tell them. 

3) Pray for your friends and with your friends, and stick close to the Word of God for truth, hope, and joy. 

And for those in the midst of depression:

1) Read and pray the Psalms. God put them in the Bible for a reason, and He's not offended by our raw emotions or even accusations. He knows what we feel better than we do. 

2) Try to avoid the tendency for complete isolation. Even if it is just short outings once or twice a week, we need that connection with other people. 

3) Seek help before it's too late, from doctors, pastors, counselors, and anyone who can point you in the right direction. 

There's so much more that could be said, and so many good resources out there. I'll leave the last word to King David:

Psalm 34:18- "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."