Conversation Change

I sat in the drab lobby. I cut my eyes between the other people in the waiting room and the shriveled, dying ferns placed everywhere. Isn't it kind of hard to kill a fern? I thought to myself. It smelled musty in there, like a dying rain forest. I was contemplating leaving when I heard my name called. Here goes nothing.

This was me at a counseling center a couple years ago. After a quick rundown, I was told that I suffered from high anxiety and mild depression (they're kind of disorder best friends). The news flooded me with both relief and guilt. You see, I had no reason to feel like I felt.

I have a loving family. A supportive husband. Great friends. A sense of humor. And a God who created me in his own image.

This. This isn't his image. What's wrong with me? There are people out there who have pah-lenty of reasons to feel like they can't leave their bed, and I am most certainly not one of them.

And I can't share this with anyone because I'm the "funny one." I make people laugh. They don't want to hear about my problems. Heck, I'm one goofy Facebook status away from them not believing me anyway.

That was me up until about a year ago. 

That probably comes as a surprise to many of you; and if it is, I accomplished what I intended. But recent events have led me to be a little more open. Because the truth is, there are people in your midst every single day whose struggle is exponentially more severe than mine was. And perhaps they don't have the means to seek the help they need.

And that's why the church desperately needs to change its outlook on mental illnesses. We are supposed to be the gateway to getting those people help--not the deniers who send them to their homes to pray more fervently.

Depression and anxiety are not correlated to how much spirituality a person possesses or lacks. And until we immerse ourselves in that fact, we will continue to go to funerals and read hateful literature afterward about suicide's "selfishness" to lick our wounds.

I sought help. I got help. And it was because there were a few people in my life who refused to step in and say stupid, outdated things to me. And it made all the difference in my life and in my marriage.

So instead of uttering something tacky like, "That just goes to show you that money doesn't buy happiness," how about we vow to see people. To actually see people. Depression doesn't have a poster child; it can be the chatty waitress you had at lunch or the star of the high school basketball team.

It can be hidden; or it can be so painfully obvious it just can't be ignored. So don't ignore it. Educate yourself, but don't think you're the answer. Realize that God's faithfulness makes a difference, but its implementation can take the form of a medical professional.

Church, we need to change the conversation. And it starts with you.