Faith & Doubt

“I've prayed, I've read my Bible, I've done everything I'm supposed to do. So why do I still feel this way?”

If you've ever asked this question—or heard your child ask it—you're not alone. Mental health struggles among young adults have reached unprecedented levels, and the intersection of faith and mental health has become one of the most critical conversations the church needs to have. Yet it's also one of the most misunderstood.

This post is for two audiences: young adults wrestling with anxiety, depression, or other mental health challenges while trying to hold onto faith, and parents who want to understand and support their children through these struggles.

The State of Things: Why This Matters Now

Let's be honest about what we're facing. Studies show that anxiety and depression among young adults have skyrocketed in recent years, with rates accelerating dramatically during and after the pandemic. Gen Z is experiencing mental health challenges at levels we've never seen before.

At the same time, many churches and Christian families still operate under outdated frameworks that treat mental health issues as primarily spiritual problems. The result? Young people feeling like they're failing at faith when they can't “pray away” their depression. Parents feeling helpless and confused when their child admits they're struggling. Families divided by misunderstanding.

This isn't just a mental health crisis. It's becoming a faith crisis, because when the church responds poorly to mental health struggles, young people begin to question whether Christianity has anything meaningful to offer their real, lived experience.

What the Bible Actually Says (And Doesn't Say)

Here's what might surprise you: the Bible is full of people experiencing what we'd recognize today as anxiety, depression, and emotional crisis.

The Psalms are filled with raw expressions of despair. David writes, “My tears have been my food day and night” (Psalm 42:3). The writer of Psalm 88 ends with the words “darkness is my closest friend”—no neat resolution, no “but God came through” ending.

The prophet Elijah, fresh off a massive spiritual victory, crashes into suicidal depression and tells God “I've had enough. Take my life” (1 Kings 19:4). God's response? Not rebuke. Not “you need more faith.” God lets him rest, feeds him, and gently walks him through recovery.

Even Jesus, in the Garden of Gethsemane, experiences what can only be described as overwhelming anxiety—so intense that he sweats drops of blood, a documented medical phenomenon called hematidrosis that occurs under extreme stress.

The Bible validates emotional suffering as part of the human experience in a broken world. It never suggests that faithful people don't struggle with these things.

Where the Church Has Gotten It Wrong

Let's name some harmful responses that still circulate in Christian communities:

“Just pray more.” Prayer is vital, but treating clinical depression as something that can be fixed solely through increased spiritual disciplines adds shame to suffering. It's like telling someone with a broken leg to just have more faith and walk it off.

“You must have unconfessed sin.” While sin can certainly affect our mental state, the assumption that mental illness equals spiritual failure ignores biology, trauma, brain chemistry, and the complexity of living in a fallen world.

“Real Christians don't need therapy or medication.” This dangerous mindset has led countless people to suffer needlessly and has contributed to tragic outcomes. It treats medical intervention as a failure of faith rather than as a gift from God working through human knowledge.

“Claim victory over this.” The prosperity gospel's “name it and claim it” approach to mental health denies the reality of ongoing struggles and makes people feel like failures when they don't experience instant healing.

These responses, while often well-intentioned, cause real harm. They drive young people away from faith and prevent parents from getting their children the help they need.

A Better Framework: Integration, Not Either/Or

Here's a more biblical and holistic approach: mental health exists at the intersection of the physical, emotional, relational, and spiritual. All of these dimensions are real, and all of them matter.

Depression isn't purely biological, but it's not purely spiritual either. It can involve chemical imbalances, traumatic experiences, thought patterns, isolation, loss of meaning, spiritual crisis, or any combination of these factors.

This means treatment should be comprehensive:

Medical intervention when needed—therapy, medication, lifestyle changes. God gave us doctors, therapists, and scientific knowledge for a reason.

Spiritual resources that genuinely help—community, meaning-making, practices like lament that give language to suffering, the hope that our pain has a context in God's larger story.

Relational support—people who show up, listen without fixing, and embody God's presence in tangible ways.

Practical care—addressing sleep, nutrition, exercise, screen time, and other factors that affect mental health.

Faith isn't opposed to therapy and medication. Faith invites us to use every good gift God has provided for our healing and flourishing.

For Young Adults: You're Not Broken

If you're struggling with anxiety, depression, or other mental health challenges, please hear this: you are not faithless, you are not broken beyond repair, and you are not alone.

Your struggle doesn't disqualify you from relationship with God. In fact, some of the most profound spiritual growth happens in the darkness, when we learn what it means to trust God even when we can't feel his presence.

Here are some practical steps:

Talk to someone. A trusted friend, a parent, a youth pastor, a counselor. Don't suffer in isolation.

Consider professional help. Seeing a therapist isn't a failure of faith any more than seeing a dentist is. If you had diabetes, you'd take insulin. Mental health is health.

Be patient with yourself. Healing isn't linear. Some days will be better than others. Progress matters more than perfection.

Find your people. Seek out Christian communities and friendships where you can be honest about your struggles without judgment.

Give yourself permission. Permission to take medication if needed. Permission to take a break. Permission to not be okay right now.

For Parents: How to Help

If your child has opened up to you about mental health struggles, first of all—thank you for being someone they felt safe enough to tell. That matters more than you know.

Here's how you can support them:

Listen without immediately trying to fix. Sometimes the most healing thing you can offer is presence and validation. “I hear you, I believe you, and I'm here with you.”

Take it seriously. Even if you don't fully understand what they're experiencing, trust that it's real. Dismissing or minimizing their pain will only drive them away.

Get educated. Learn about anxiety, depression, and mental health. Understanding what your child is experiencing will help you respond with compassion rather than fear.

Help them access care. Assist in finding a good therapist, psychiatrist if needed, or support groups. Offer to help navigate insurance, transportation, or other logistics.

Examine your own beliefs. If you were raised in a generation that stigmatized mental health, be willing to learn and grow. Your child needs you to challenge those old frameworks.

Keep showing up. Recovery takes time. Your steady, loving presence matters even when—especially when—progress is slow.

Take care of yourself too. Supporting someone with mental health challenges is emotionally demanding. You can't pour from an empty cup.

The Apologetic Case: Why This Matters for Faith

Here's why this is ultimately an apologetic issue: young people are leaving the faith over this.

When a young adult hears “just pray more” while they're battling clinical depression, they're faced with two options: either something is wrong with me and I'm a failure at faith, or Christianity doesn't actually work in real life. Many are choosing the second option and walking away.

But the problem isn't with Christianity itself—it's with poor theology and harmful practices that don't represent the fullness of the Christian story.

The real Christian response to suffering has always been incarnational. God didn't stay distant from our pain—he entered into it. Jesus wept. Jesus experienced anguish. Jesus knows what it's like to feel forsaken. The gospel doesn't promise escape from suffering; it promises God's presence in the midst of it.

When the church embodies this—when we acknowledge the reality of mental health struggles, support people in getting help, walk alongside them without easy answers, and integrate faith with good medicine—we become a powerful witness to a God who meets us in our deepest darkness.

Moving Forward Together

The conversation about faith and mental health doesn't have simple answers, and that's okay. What matters is that we're willing to have the conversation with honesty, compassion, and openness to learning.

For young adults: your mental health struggles don't make you less of a Christian. They make you human, and God is not afraid of your humanity.

For parents: your child's mental health challenges aren't a reflection of your parenting or their faith. They're an opportunity to embody Christ's love in tangible, supportive ways.

For all of us: we can build Christian communities where mental health is talked about openly, where getting help is encouraged rather than stigmatized, and where people experiencing anxiety and depression find support rather than judgment.

This is what it looks like when faith meets real life. And this is where the church has the opportunity to be exactly what Jesus intended—a place where the broken find healing, the weary find rest, and no one has to suffer alone.