The Mental Health Crisis

Depression among young adults has doubled in the past decade. Suicide is the second leading cause of death for people aged 10 to 34. Therapist waitlists stretch for months. And there remains a persistent stigma around acknowledging that you are not okay.

The Bible does not avoid the subject. It places depression, despair, and the desire to die directly in the text — and treats them with remarkable honesty and tenderness.

Elijah is arguably the most powerful Prophet in the Old Testament. He called down fire from heaven and single-handedly confronted 450 prophets of Baal. Immediately after his greatest victory, he fled to the wilderness and prayed: "Take my life, Lord."

God's response is instructive. He did not rebuke Elijah. He did not deliver a sermon. An Angel brought food and water. God let him sleep. Then God showed up personally. The treatment was rest, nourishment, and presence — not critique.

Psalm 42 records David speaking to himself: "Why, my soul, are you so downcast? Why so disturbed within me?" He was addressing his own depression as though it were a separate entity within him.

Then he told himself: "Put your hope in God." Not once — three times. As though he had to keep reminding himself. That is not a failure of faith. That is someone fighting for hope when everything in him wanted to surrender. Scripture put this in the hymnal deliberately.

Psalm 88 is the darkest chapter in the Bible. It begins in despair and ends with the words: "Darkness is my closest friend." There is no turning point. No resolution. No reassuring conclusion.

God included it in Scripture without editing it or appending a lesson. He said: this experience is real, and it deserves a place in my word. If you are in a season where there is no visible light, Psalm 88 says you are not alone — not even in the Bible.

Paul — the author of much of the New Testament — admitted in 2 Corinthians 1: "We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself." He stated plainly that he reached a point where he did not want to continue.

He did not lose his faith. He did not forfeit his calling. He was simply honest about the weight. And he later noted that God's comfort in that moment became the foundation for his ability to comfort others facing the same darkness.

Jesus' invitation in Matthew 11 carries no conditions: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." He did not say "get yourself together first" or "come when you're stronger."

He said come tired. Come burdened. Come barely able to continue.

Professional mental health care is not in conflict with faith. Therapy is not a failure of trust. Medication is not a sign of spiritual weakness. And the Bible models every healthy response — rest, honesty, community, and allowing God to meet you in the very place you thought was too dark for anyone to find you.