Mental Illness Is Not a Sign of Immature Faith

In my growing-up years, I had no surety of faith because of my lifelong anxiety disorder. From my earliest memories of anxiety to my first year of college, I grasped at God, trying to get my hands on him like Jacob had. I refused to let go until God could confirm he loved me and that I was truly his child despite my unrelenting anxiety and intrusive thoughts. When I wasn’t doubting my faith, I cloaked myself in shame, believing myself to be a lower kind of Christian compared to other believers—because what kind of faithful follower of God struggled with debilitating fear? 

Perhaps you know this compounded suffering too. As you examine the intensity of your mental illness and see others in your church and friend circle who don’t struggle as you do, you begin to wonder if you’re a lesser-than Christian—somebody that no one else could ever look up to because your mental health keeps your spiritual growth eternally stunted. 

Mental Illness Is an Illness, not a Character Flaw

Mental illness is a result of the Fall, not because it is a sin, but because it is caused by the effects of sin. Mental illness is the result of our bodies being broken; just as someone may face cancer, heart issues, diabetes, or autism, so mental illnesses are a result of our minds and bodies not functioning as they should. Mental illnesses are also at times results of the sins done against us—such as experiencing a traumatic event (like natural disasters, automobile accidents, great loss, war) or witnessing or being the victim of violence (whether verbally, emotionally, or physically). 

In none of these situations is mental illness caused by a lack of maturity. Mental illness is not chosen. It is inflicted upon us by the brokenness of this world.

Like any kind of suffering, mental illnesses can draw sins out of us. The Puritan Thomas Boston wrote in his book The Crook in the Lot, “As the fire under the pot makes the scum to cast up, appear at top, and run over, so the crook in the lot raises up from the bottom, and brings out such corruption as otherwise one could hardly imagine to be within” (p. 28).

Autoimmune disease, a physical limitation, stomach issues, and the like can all draw to the surface sins that had once laid low in our hearts. I’ve said to friends before that even motherhood, though a great joy and gift from God, has revealed my impatience and short fuse. So too our suffering under a mental illness can pull sins out like a magnet pulling out pieces of metal. Sin creeps up behind all of us, and we each must be ready to fight it with the truth from Scripture at all times—whether we suffer a mental illness or not.

Growing and Flourishing While Suffering from a Mental Illness

How do we keep growing and flourishing amid mental health issues? How do we mature and guard ourselves against sin as we suffer from mental illnesses such as anxiety, PTSD, depression, and OCD?

Receive professional help. Talk to your doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, or a clinical therapist so that you can be equipped to receive the exact help you need, whether it be medication, talk therapy, or practical tools for working through your mental illness.

Receive pastoral help. Rather than pit psychology against pastoral care, we should seek both. As a mental health professional works to help with the physical, mental, and emotional effects of your illness, seek help from a pastor, elder, or leader in your church who can help you with your spiritual needs. We are holistic, interconnected people; when our minds suffer, so does our physical body and our spiritual selves. We need holistic help. 

Continue attending church. I say this as one who faced immense social anxiety, to the point of having level-ten panic attacks on the way to church each Sunday for months. Yet going to church kept me steeped in the means of grace and the local Christian community I desperately needed. God calls us to continue meeting together, and this is where he promises to meet us through the simple means of grace—hearing the preached Word, partaking of communion, beholding baptism, and singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to exhort and encourage one another. 

Immerse yourself in Scripture however you can. We can get stuck in believing the only way to experience God’s Word is through intensive inductive Bible study, yet sometimes that’s not possible for the state of our minds. Be flexible in how you receive God’s Word; listen to it while you drive or do a mindless task, post it on sticky notes throughout your home, work on memorizing a passage, or read it out loud together as a family. The Bible will not only set your mind on God but also give words to your suffering. As you call out to your Savior amid your mental anguish, see how he answers back through Scripture. 

Enjoy God’s grace in general revelation and common grace. As I encourage my children to give thanks at the table each day, I remind them that everything we have first comes from God—and that truly means everything we have. The beauty of the wildflowers, the song of the birds, the shimmer of the water, and the way the trees bend in the wind are all meant to be reflections of his character. Not only nature but the words we read in novels and the colors we see across paintings are likewise gifts from him. Augustine said that all truth is God’s truth, and that means truth in any medium (On Christian Doctrine, 11.18). As you experience these graces, let your heart be encouraged and your mind lifted to dwell on all that is good, beautiful, and true.

He Who Saved You Will Sanctify You

“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). This is God’s promise to us, whether we suffer physically or mentally. We cannot behold the grace of God and live in his presence without being changed, and as we rest in his grace, we can trust him to continue to carve us more and more into the likeness of Christ.

Lara d’Entremont

Lara d’Entremont is a wife, mother, and the author of A Mother Held: Essays on Anxiety and Motherhood. While the wildlings snore, she primarily writes—whether it be personal essays, creative nonfiction, or fantasy novels. She desires to weave the stories between faith and fiction, theology and praxis, for women who feel as if these pieces of them are always at odds. Much of her writing is inspired by the forest and ocean that surround her, and her little ones that remind her to stop and see it. You can find more of her writing at laradentremont.com.

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