No. 16
My doctor said depression. She was wrong.
A depression diagnosis, and how biblical counseling found an identity crisis underneath rather than modifying behaviour.
Greetings,
A few years ago I went through a season I didn’t have words for at the time.
I was functioning. Showing up. Doing what needed to be done. But I was hollow. There was a lot happening in my life — a newborn at home, two young kids, and a situation with someone close to me that had quietly shaken something foundational in how I saw myself and my faith.
About eight or nine months in, my doctor asked me how I was feeling. We talked. And at the end of the session she said — I believe you have depression.
I remember sitting with that word. And something in me recognised that the last several months finally had a name. But the longer I sat with it, the more something else began to surface. Because as true as the word felt in the moment, it didn’t quite reach the root of what was actually going on.
It was an elder at my church who helped me see it. We sat down. He asked questions. He listened. And slowly, carefully, he began to bring scripture to bear on what I was carrying. Not as a hammer. Not as a prescription. But as a lamp held up to what was actually happening underneath the surface.
The world’s label wasn’t wrong exactly. But it didn’t go far enough. It could name the symptoms. It couldn’t name the root.
What I found wasn’t just a conversation with a trusted friend. It was biblical counseling — a systematic, intentional process of bringing scripture to bear on the specific issues of a man’s heart. Not Christian therapy. Not a pastor telling you what to do. A trained practitioner or a spiritually mature believer sitting with you, asking the right questions, and using God’s word not as a hammer but as a lamp — to illuminate what’s actually going on underneath the surface. Think of it as intensified discipleship. The kind that requires not just knowledge of scripture, but the wisdom and care to know how to use it.
The difference between biblical counseling and secular therapy is not primarily about the counselor’s faith. It’s about the diagnosis. Secular therapy locates the problem externally — your environment, your childhood, your circumstances — and works to modify your behaviour in response. Biblical counseling locates the problem internally. It asks what is happening in the heart. And it uses scripture, which the writer of Hebrews says is sharp enough to divide and discern the very motives of a man, to get there.
What the world called depression, scripture revealed as something more specific. An identity crisis. I had taken a good thing — a person I loved, a model of faith I looked up to — and made it a God thing. When that person made choices that shook my confidence, I didn’t just lose trust in them. I lost my footing. And without realising it, I had been standing on ground that was never meant to hold my weight.
For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
That’s the difference between behaviour modification and genuine healing. Behaviour modification is a bandage on a wound that hasn’t been cleaned. It reduces the visibility of the problem. It doesn’t resolve it. Scripture, applied carefully and with love by someone who knows how to use it, goes somewhere else entirely. It pierces. It reveals. And then — and this is the part the world’s approach cannot offer — it redeems.
I am not saying that every man struggling should throw away his medication or walk out of his therapist’s office. There are physical and physiological realities that require medical attention and I respect that. What I am saying is this — if you are a man who is coping but not healing, managing but not moving, there may be heart issues underneath the surface that scripture can reach and therapy cannot.
The questions therapy cannot answer are the ones that matter most. Who am I? What am I made for? Why does this suffering mean anything? And what have I been worshipping in place of God?
Those are not clinical questions. They are human ones. And they have answers.
What label have you accepted about yourself that scripture might tell a different story about?
Filed under Identity and desire
