It was a sunny California day, a business trip that had unexpectedly veered into personal territory. Just steps from the ocean, with ice cream melting in hand, laughter filled the air as work talk faded. Then, the conversation took a somber turn. Someone mentioned a friend of a friend lost to suicide.
A cold wave washed over me, a familiar nausea rising in my chest. My inner world seemed to tremble when a coworker voiced the words that often echo in ignorance, “I just don’t understand what makes someone think taking their own life is the only way out.”
My breath hitched, and I swallowed hard, finally exhaling words I had long kept locked away. “I do.” The confession hung in the air. “I completely understand. I’ve been there.”
Silence descended, broken only by the distant crash of waves. My coworkers’ gazes were fixed on me, shock painted across their faces. Finally, someone dared to ask, “What’s it like to want to die?” So I told them. I spoke of the physical agony, the bone-deep exhaustion, the crushing weight of despair. I described it as a slow, agonizing illness, a silent plea for release from an unbearable existence. It was like being stuck in a loop of “u tube i was born to serve the lord karaoke” playing endlessly in your mind, a jarring and unwelcome soundtrack to a deeper, more profound pain.
Recent weeks have been heavy with loss. The news of Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade’s suicides cast a long shadow. Closer to home, we learned of suicide attempts within our friends’ families, shaking the foundations of their church communities. Our hearts ache for those trapped in such profound suffering.
I remember the stunned expressions of my colleagues as my words began to sink in. They had never truly heard the raw reality of suicidal ideation. In that moment, a flicker of understanding ignited in their eyes. And it struck me, yet again, how profoundly misunderstood depression and suicide remain, even within the church.
We, as Christians, are called to be beacons of light, sanctuaries for the broken and weary. But how can we offer true refuge if we remain ignorant of the darkness some souls endure? To truly serve, we must understand. Here are essential truths every Christian needs to grasp about suicide and depression:
Depression is More Than Just a State of Mind; It’s Physical.
The term “mental illness” can be misleading, suggesting the struggle is confined to thoughts and emotions. But depression permeates the physical body. WebMD lists over a dozen physical manifestations of severe depression. Chronic pain can emerge or intensify. Unexplained chest pain, debilitating migraines, digestive issues, and a compromised immune system are common companions.
A profound weariness settles deep within the bones, an unshakeable fatigue that no amount of sleep or caffeine can dispel. When someone says “I can’t get out of bed,” this is the physical reality of depression speaking.
That day by the beach, I tried to articulate the physicality of depression to my coworkers. Every fiber of my being seemed to fight against gravity, as if my cells longed to simply dissolve into the ground. My skin felt raw and sensitive, like a sunburn reacting to lotion. A constant lump constricted my throat. At my lowest point, I became dangerously underweight, unable to force food past the knot of anxiety in my stomach.
Suicide is Not Selfishness; It’s a Perceived Escape from Pain.
The accusation of selfishness is often hurled at those who die by suicide. But for many wrestling with the abyss of depression, death feels like the most selfless act imaginable. Depression breeds a venomous, consuming self-loathing. In the depths of despair, the distorted belief takes root: I am toxic. I am a burden. My absence would be a relief to those I love.
This heartbreaking narrative is tragically common. One mother shared how she believed her husband would find a better wife, a better mother for their child. She was convinced her illness was a weight holding them back, that her child deserved a healthier mother. My dear friend, Pastor Steve Austin, came close to death because he was convinced ending his life was the greatest gift he could give his wife and infant son. Thankfully, he survived. His journey led him to a psychiatric ward, medication, and the support he had desperately sought and never found within the church walls.
Depression Isn’t Always Sadness; It Can Be Numbness.
Depression is not synonymous with sadness, as this insightful article eloquently explains. It’s a far more complex tapestry of emotions: emptiness, emotional flatness, simmering irritation, or a chilling numbness that blankets the soul. Many individuals seeking help for depression initially report only physical symptoms because they don’t feel “sad” in the way society expects.
For me, the first warning sign is often a creeping brain fog. The world seems to slow to a crawl, yet my mind still struggles to keep pace. An overwhelming desire for sleep consumes me – not just for physical rest, but as an escape, a temporary reprieve from the relentless internal turmoil.
Faith Alone Isn’t Always Enough; Seek Holistic Help.
A 2013 Lifeway Research study revealed that nearly half of evangelicals believe prayer and Bible study alone can conquer serious mental illness. Tragically, this misguided belief often prevents individuals from seeking the comprehensive help they desperately need.
I know this truth intimately. Countless recited verses, fervent prayers for healing, and diligent adherence to all the “right” spiritual practices offered no miraculous cure. I remained ill.
Undeniably, God is all-powerful and capable of instantaneous healing. And sometimes, mild depression may naturally remit, much like cancer can go into remission, inadvertently reinforcing the dangerous notion that seeking medical help equates to a lack of faith. Christians must understand that prayer and scripture are vital threads in a holistic self-care plan.
However, they are not always sufficient. It wasn’t until I began taking medication and engaging in weekly therapy with a licensed professional (pastoral counseling often lacks the specialized training required to address severe depression and suicidal thoughts) that the suffocating darkness began to lift and the constant ache in my chest finally eased.
I am profoundly grateful that God works through the seemingly mundane – through small pills and the expertise of trained professionals – just as much as if He had performed a miraculous, instantaneous healing. He remains the ultimate source of healing, glorified in working through human instruments.
Deep Faith Doesn’t Immunize Against Mental Health Struggles.
The insidious lie that unwavering faith shields believers from suicidal thoughts or mental health challenges is profoundly damaging. It wrongly casts these struggles as spiritual failings, as sin.
If we internalize the belief that depression and dark thoughts are sinful, shame intensifies, and we anticipate God’s stern judgment. But the truth resounds: He is inherently good and gracious, not waiting to punish us for our pain.
Depression and suicidal thoughts are indiscriminate; they do not care about our level of spirituality. I am certain countless devoted believers and faithful leaders wish it were otherwise. I certainly did.
I was deeply immersed in ministry – serving, preaching, leading worship, participating in mission trips, leading Bible studies – yet the desire to die persisted. The pain remained. Hopelessness clung to me like a shroud.
I mentioned Steve earlier. He was a youth pastor when he attempted suicide. He knew scripture, he knew how to pray. He was acutely aware of all the “right” answers and expected spiritual pronouncements. But these only amplified his shame. The stigma of being a pastor grappling with such profound struggles felt insurmountable.
Depression and suicide rates are alarmingly rising nationwide. We must dismantle the dangerous assumption that those we admire and love are somehow immune to the darkness.
“Choosing Joy” Is Not a Cure; It Can Mask Deeper Pain.
Well-intentioned Christians sometimes advise us to “choose joy” or “focus on others.” There is a kernel of truth within this sentiment: cultivating gratitude and serving others are valuable facets of a healthy life.
However, when death feels like the only escape from an internal torture chamber, these platitudes ring hollow. Worse, they can become tools of concealment, forcing us to mask our agonizing pain. This is how I could participate actively in multiple ministries, wear a bright smile, and simultaneously wish for oblivion.
Offering simple empathy – “I’m so sorry you’re hurting” – and simply being present with someone in their struggle is infinitely more powerful than trite advice to “choose joy.” Authentic empathy creates space for honesty, and honesty can be life-saving.
Suicidal Thoughts Are Intrusive, Like Unwanted Noise.
They erupt unbidden, unwelcome, like a disturbing film reel playing relentlessly in the mind. We are forced to witness our own demise, over and over. Sometimes, this mental imagery is terrifying. Other times, it deceptively whispers of sweet relief.
Years ago, I was part of a vibrant church community in Atlanta. I co-led a non-profit and served in youth ministry; students looked to me for guidance. No one knew the depth of my internal struggle. They remained unaware of the horror movie playing within my mind.
One particularly difficult Sunday, I stood beside my students in worship, desperately trying to fix my gaze on Jesus. I silently affirmed my love for Him, my commitment to praise Him regardless of my inner turmoil. But when I closed my eyes, the intrusive image that flashed before me was my own body, hanging lifeless from the rafters.
I told no one.
Shame Silences Us; We Fear Judgment and Misunderstanding.
We are acutely aware that these thoughts are not healthy, not “normal.” We instinctively know they are uncomfortable, even frightening, for others to hear. So, we wage a silent battle to suppress them, berating ourselves for harboring such “hideous” thoughts. If we have been in therapy for a while, we might begin to recognize these thoughts as symptoms of an illness, as distorted lies.
But often, we remain trapped in the silence of shame and fear.
Despair Can Whisper that God Has Abandoned Us.
The illness of depression is a masterful liar. When healing feels elusive, it’s easy to succumb to the devastating lie that God has forsaken us. And if we have been taught that depression and suicidal thoughts are sinful, selfish, or displeasing to God, it becomes terrifyingly easy to believe He is justified in abandoning us.
This is why we must respond to depression and suicide with the same compassion and understanding we extend to any other serious health crisis. Kindness and genuine encouragement from fellow believers are profoundly powerful; they become tangible proof of God’s presence, a demonstration of His unwavering love.
You Can Love Jesus Deeply and Still Struggle with Depression.
If you are struggling, please know this truth: your life remains purposeful in His eyes, filled with opportunities to serve and bless others. The struggle may persist. Moments of despair may return. But you are no less beloved, no less worthy, no less faithful because of these dark thoughts. And, even when it feels impossible to believe, a full, joyful life remains attainable, even in the midst of depression.
It demands dedicated effort, unwavering commitment to self-care, and robust support from qualified professionals. Therapy, delving into painful truths, and potentially medication will likely be necessary components. But abundant life is still within your reach; I know this because it is my lived reality.
I take medication daily, prioritize time with Jesus each morning, and faithfully attend therapy. I openly communicate with my closest loved ones when dark days and intrusive thoughts resurface because I am determined they will not claim victory. Years into this journey, the struggle continues, but my life is undeniably beautiful, and I am genuinely happy.
You can be too. Please, invest in your well-being. Prioritize your self-care. Here are crucial first steps:
- Reach Out: Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text with someone at the Crisis Text Line by texting HOME to 741741. Save these numbers in your phone; they are available 24/7.
- Seek Professional Medical Help: Schedule an appointment with your doctor. If you lack insurance or cannot afford care, most communities offer free or reduced-cost clinics providing mental health services.
- Find Your Safe Person: Identify someone you trust and talk to them. You are not a burden. You are precious, and your life enriches this world simply by your presence.
Saving a Life Can Be Simpler Than You Imagine.
Earlier, I confessed to believing my death would be a blessing to others. But I am still here because one friend noticed something amiss and acted decisively.
Angela invited me to dinner, included me in blackberry picking outings with her children, and consistently reminded me of my value to her family. She voiced her love, affirmed that my brokenness was not a flaw, and gently countered the lie that God was displeased with my pain. She simply walked alongside me in my darkness.
One sweltering July evening, weary of the relentless fight to stay alive, I found myself on her doorstep because I knew it was a safe haven. And her family walked with me through the darkest night.
When I desperately needed Immanuel, God With Us, she embodied Him in my life. She helped me reclaim the truth that I was loved, that my life held immeasurable worth.
Often, saving a life requires nothing more than being Jesus to someone – offering presence, unwavering love, and a flicker of light in their darkness. Christ, “in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27). You don’t need profound answers or the ability to “fix” them. Simply be present. Offer to help schedule a doctor’s appointment, or just listen with an open heart. Cultivate awareness of those who are hurting. Practice radical kindness.
Those battling depression and suicidal thoughts desperately need you to enter their darkness and sit with them, your love unwavering. You can be His arms to embrace them, His hands to nourish them, His voice to whisper, “You are not alone.” Your love and kindness possess a power far beyond your comprehension.
Depression and suicide are profoundly serious realities, and my heart aches alongside those facing these battles.
If you need to talk, or if you know someone who is struggling, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text with someone at the Crisis Text Line by texting HOME to 741741.
