Faith in the Fire

A Reflection for Mental Health Awareness Month

May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and as someone who has walked through the valleys of anxiety, panic, OCD, health anxiety, and an eating disorder, I want to offer you something more than statistics or shallow comfort. I want to offer you hope. The kind that’s held me together when I felt like I was falling apart.

Mental illness doesn’t always show on the outside. It’s easy to smile and say, “I’m fine,” when your heart is racing, your mind is spinning, or your body feels like it’s bracing for disaster. I’ve been there; sleepless nights, obsessive thoughts, fear that clings like a shadow. And yet, in the middle of the chaos, I’ve found something steady: God.

It can feel strange to love Jesus and still wrestle with mental illness. I used to think that if I just had enough faith, I wouldn’t feel like this. I thought peace meant the absence of symptoms. But over time, God has taught me that peace doesn’t always come in the absence of struggle, it often comes in the middle of it.

Isaiah 43:2 says,

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.”

Notice that the verse doesn’t say if you walk through the fire, it says when. Struggles are part of this life. But so is the promise: You are not alone.

For a long time, I carried shame. I felt broken, weak, less-than. But God never looks at us with disgust or disappointment. He sees our pain and meets us there. Jesus Himself was called “a man of sorrows, familiar with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). That means He gets it. He’s not far off or looking down on us, He’s sitting right beside us in the ashes.

If you’re reading this and struggling, I want you to know:

You are not your diagnosis.

You are not a project that needs fixing.

You are loved right now, as you are.

Jesus never told people to “get it together” before coming to Him. He simply said, “Come.” Then, He will change you for the better!

Healing Isn’t Linear

Some days are hard. Some days are beautiful. And often, they coexist. Healing looks like therapy, support, prayer, medication, rest, and community. It’s come in waves, and it’s still coming. That doesn’t make us less Christian. It makes us human.

I’ve learned to celebrate small victories like eating a meal without fear it will make me sick, or making it through a panic attack by leaning into breath and Scripture. These aren’t just “mental health wins” they are sacred moments of overcoming, because I know what it costs to fight for peace.

And when we don’t have the strength? We have to let others carry some of it for us. I’ve learned that reaching out is not weakness; it’s wisdom. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 reminds us,

“Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.”

If you’re in the thick of it right now, please hear me: your story matters. Not just when you’re “better.” Not just when you’re healed. But right now. In your questions, your tears, your reaching out.

God is using even this.

He’s not wasting your pain. He’s present in it. And one day, you’ll look back and see how even the hardest parts of your story were held in His hands.

Until then, keep going. One breath, one prayer, one step at a time. And know this:

You are seen.

You are loved.

You are never alone.

Call or Text 988 if you or someone you know needs help🤍