Over the last year and a half, I have heard from more and more students in our youth group who are struggling with depression, anxiety, stress, and loneliness. For some of these students, these feelings are so heavy that they are questioning whether or not life is really worth living. Some of these students take medication; some see therapists; some have strong relational support systems to lean on; some have nothing at all.

“This is gonna disqualify me.”

Have you ever had that thought? It’s what I pondered when I completed my training as a mental health therapist and was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and Dysthymia (Persistent Depression). The latter meant that I had been suffering worse than I had realized (because the diagnosis requires two years of active symptoms). How could this be?

When we go through depression it naturally makes us question everything … mostly ourselves. Here’s a simple way to understand how to maintain your worth through the journey.

While scrolling through the internet the other day, I came upon this funny quote: “Old Farmer’s Advice: Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull strong!” Well, I thought that was great advice, if only I were dealing with horses, pigs and bulls.  But the reality of the situation is that I’m trying to learn how to set boundaries for myself, and for other difficult people (like me) whom I love but I’m not quite sure where to draw the line. 

The Serenity Prayer, written by Reinhold Niebuhr many years ago, contains powerful, timeless wisdom that is now being validating by research. Being able to accept what we cannot change is a key component of our emotional, psychological, and spiritual well-being. We need God’s wisdom and grace to know what can and cannot be changed, and we can trust God to show us the difference.

As a kid, summers usually meant long road trips through the center of California for fishing trips with my dad. Along the way, there were several dirt roads that seemed to lead off into unknown places. My imagination would run wild with questions like, ‘Where does this lead?’ ‘Who paved these roads?’ ‘How do you know which one is the right one to take if there are no signs?’ And in a world before Google Maps, the thought of veering down one of these nameless routes felt dangerous and scary.