What I Learned about Depression from Michael S. Lundy

How on earth could a Christian be depressed while walking with God?

It’s a tough question—one that challenges our assumptions about faith, joy, and mental health.

But Michael S. Lundy, in Depression, Anxiety and the Christian Life, offers a wise and deeply compassionate answer.

Depression is not a failure of faith.

His message is clear: even the most devout believers can suffer—and there is no shame in that.

Depression and anxiety are not signs of weak faith—they can be a part of the human condition.

Knowing this can be the first step in lifting the burden of shame.

Resilience isn’t about hiding the pain. It’s about walking through it.

Healing is not just about willpower or quoting scripture until the clouds vanish.

Healing is calling the doctor and calling on God.

It’s praying with tears in your eyes while picking up your prescription.

We’re not choosing between faith and medicine. We’re choosing both—because your body and soul are on the same team.

You’re not called to fix it all, but you are called to show up.

When someone we love is hurting, our most powerful tool isn’t what we say—it’s that we stay.

It’s all about presence. Real, gritty, stubborn presence.

Bring them along to family dinners, on walks, to church.

Even if they don’t smile. Even if they seem distant.

Your steady presence might just be the hope they cling to when everything else feels like chaos.

Faith doesn’t erase pain. It walks with you through it.

Lundy reminds us that encouraging someone to keep praying isn’t enough.

Help them find a doctor who listens.

Make sure they’re taking their meds.

Suggest a wise, compassionate pastor.

Walk with them toward healing, practically and spiritually.

God meets us in our weakness.

God isn’t disappointed in your struggle. He’s in it with you.

He’s not asking for grand sermons or perfect praise. He’s looking for your heart—even if it’s quiet. Even if it’s broken. Especially when it’s broken.

Hebrews 4:15 reminds us that Jesus sympathizes with our weaknesses.

This is how we rise: not alone, but together.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Praying, laughing, crying, sweating it out.

Faith isn’t just a belief system—it’s a battle plan. And every step forward, no matter how small, is a win.

You’re not called to fix people. You’re called to love them.

You don’t need to be a therapist or theologian. You just need to walk alongside people with consistency and compassion.

Help them get the support they need—yes, spiritually, but practically too.

That’s what love looks like in action.

Reading Lundy reminded me that faith doesn’t mean you don’t struggle. It means you don’t struggle alone or without a purpose.

That mental illness doesn’t mean spiritual failure.

And that one of the most Christlike things we can do is simply to walk alongside those in pain, pointing them toward light one small step at a time.