O Captain, My Captain || Depression and the Church

Have you ever noticed how rarely depression is talked about in the church? I have. 

Here's a fair warning. I can't be unbiased in this. Depression has, and sometimes continues to be a struggle of mine. It is very dear to my heart and I can, with full confidence, say this is a personal post.

As I've said before, growing up in the church, while beautiful, is not easy. Being a church kid means having it together. And not just sometimes, but all the time. Expectations are high and the pressure to be perfect is nearly suffocating. I don't think it's intentional; I think it's just our natural reaction to place people on pedestals. The problem with that, however, is that we leave them little room for error.

Which is why, when I sunk into depression, it was even more crushing because I felt completely alone in the church. The youth leaders I looked up to, fled the second the "D" word was mentioned. Instead of talking me through it, they brushed it aside and told me that I just had to "get closer to God". After all, as a youth pastor once told me, depression was a sin; you couldn't be a Christian and struggle with depression.

Depression is not an open topic in the church. It's treated as taboo and off-limits. And I really don't understand why that is. It's a terrible thing to go through. Absolutely terrible. 

Yet we ignore it. We brush it under the rug and refuse to acknowledge it exists.Which is the worst thing you can to someone who is depressed. Depression is such an isolating experience. You feel completely alone. It's like a war with your mind; one part is begging you to talk to someone about it, while the other side is telling you that you'll only make yourself a burden if you do.

We as the body of Christ are supposed to be loving and warm. Reaching those who feel unreachable. I know it's not easy. In fact, it's uncomfortable and requires an endless supply of patience. But loving others, means stepping out of our comfort zone.


It breaks my heart. It truly, truly does. How many more people need to succumb to this before we start acting? How many more lives is it going to take before the Church finally wakes up to this need?

All your faults to me make you more beautiful

Curtsey of Kelsi via tumblr:)

I was sitting in church Sunday morning and something the pastor said really stuck with me. He said "everyone is broken." Of course, I already knew this. It's an obvious fact of life. Yet for some reason, that simple statement resonated with me. And it took me awhile to figure out why.

I realized that lately I had become so wrapped up in my own brokenness that I was starting to isolate myself into my own special category. A category that allowed me to separate the brokenness in my life as something unique. Something that few people could understand. 

How ridiculous.

I realized that I was letting myself get so wrapped up in my problems that I was ignoring the pain of others. I was intent on focusing only on my own hurt and refusing to see that others were in need of comfort also. Pain, unfortunately, is everywhere. So is brokenness. I suppose that comes from living in a fallen world. It comes from many things. Rash decisions, selfish choices, and sometimes unavoidable situations. I don't think there is one person in the world who hasn't experienced some kind of hurt in their life. It's not all the same, but I don't think it's fair to "rank" it. Yes, to an outside observer, some pain may seem greater than others, but every person experiences hurt in their own way.  It's not our place to judge. But I'm on a tangent (really you can't blame me if this post doesn't flow. It is 1am.)

Anyways.

Like the picture above says, Everyone is broken but if you continue to live in that mentality it becomes your defining trait. Once you give yourself over to brokenness, it can become incredibly hard to take yourself out of it. In it's own twisted way, it becomes comfortable and you feel safe in that label. Living in that state allows you to keep your defenses up. And if your defenses are up then no one can hurt you. You have control over who you allow into your life and who doesn't get the privilege to know you. I'm discovering how easy it is to live that way and not even realize it. But I'm also realizing how many opportunities and how much of life can be missed out on living that way. And it isn't worth it.

I'm not saying there's anything wrong with brokenness. In fact, it can be a powerful tool for good. It can help others. It teaches life lessons and it can be a step to becoming closer with God. It's only if we let ourselves fall completely into it and let it define us. That's when it becomes dangerous.

It's not easy getting over brokenness. I still have a lot in me that feels damaged and broken, but I also know that I'm not allowing myself to become consumed in it. Why should I waste my time feeling sorry for myself when I can be helping others?

I'm beginning to see the beauty in brokenness. Or maybe I should say the opportunity. There are so many people out there who are broken. They need hope. So why should I focus on myself when I can be sharing the love of Jesus with others who need it the most?