A couple of weeks ago, Jamie and I finally sat down to watch season three of “The Chosen.” If you have not taken the time to watch this series, I highly recommend it. It is the most realistic, honest approach to the life of Jesus and his disciples. There hasn’t been an episode that hasn’t touched my heart and life. One of the most impactful scenes in season three comes in episode two, “Two by Two.” Jesus told His twelve disciples that He was sending them out in pairs to preach what He had taught them. He tells them they can do the same miracles and healings that Jesus Himself did while on this missionary journey. A short time later in the episode, the disciple Little James limps his way after Jesus as He leaves Peter’s house. Tearfully, Little James asks Jesus about his ability to heal others when Jesus had never healed him of his limp. Jesus looks at Little James and says:
“Think of the story you have, especially on this journey to come, if I don’t heal you. To know how to proclaim that you still praise God in spite of this. To know how to focus on all that matters so much more than the body. To show people that you can be patient with your suffering here on earth because you know you’ll spend eternity with no suffering. Not everyone can understand that.”
I was blown away. With tears streaming down my face, I understood what was being said. This scene hit home with me as someone who has dealt with mental illness for almost 25 years. Since 1989, I have lived with a rare mental illness called Disassociative Fugue. After seasons of significant stress, I would “wake up” in places, not knowing how or when I had gotten there. Sometimes, these journeys last just a day or two, sometimes more than a week. As much as this was terrifying for me, one can only imagine the fear and anxiety my wife and children were going through, not knowing where I was. From 1989 till the early 2000s, I had more than 30 of these dissociative episodes. One of these episodes resulted in an unsuccessful suicide attempt. My first apparent episode happened five months after my mother died in 1989. As you can guess, my illness caused significant problems for my family. I lost so many jobs due to my sudden disappearances. The longest time of employment I experienced since starting these episodes was just short of one year. Most jobs would last a couple of weeks to a couple of months. After struggling to keep up with my ongoing employment, I pursued work through various temporary companies. One lady with a temporary agency I used frequently understood my issues because her brother suffered from bipolar disorder. She was instrumental as I struggled so much with my mental illness, but work was becoming harder to find since I didn’t finish a lot of my assignments. The woman I worked with at the temp agency suggested looking into disability. Finally, in 2001, I received an official diagnosis and could go on disability as I became unemployable due to my illness.
As you can imagine, Jamie and I lost many friends. These people could not deal with what was happening in our lives. These were not casual acquaintances but friends we thought would stick closer than a brother. My wife endured a significant amount of unsolicited advice. Some of her closest friends constantly advised her to throw in the towel and file for divorce. And although she entertained the idea once or twice, she knew this was not God’s plan for her life. She has often shared with me that she knew, in the depths of her heart, that something was wrong. Through the years, I’ve often struggled with low self-esteem, watching friends rise through the ranks of their jobs, buy extravagant houses, and take their spouses on dream vacations. Through a lot of counseling and reflection, I have seen where the roots of this illness took shape in my pre-teen years. There was a lot of disassociation in my high school and early college years. Fortunately, the frequency of my episodes lessened as I grew older, and we put more safeguards in place to track my location if I did have an episode.
In the winter of 1992, I was sitting in front of the fireplace in the basement apartment we were renting, listening to the cassette tape of “No Compromise: Remembering the Music of Keith Green.” While listening to the song “Asleep in the Light,” I heard the lyric, “He’s told you to speak, but you keep holding it in.” At that moment, God spoke to my heart and said,
“I want you to preach My word and help the hurting through My Gospel.”
Honestly, I just chuckled and dismissed it altogether. There was no way that God wanted to use me. Remember, at that time, I had no idea why I kept leaving home without warning. After each episode, people I respected told me I must have a significant “flaw” in my character to keep leaving my family. Not knowing what to do, I was encouraged to pray more, memorize Scripture, and humble myself before God so He would deal with this flaw. Because I wanted to save my marriage and quit this destructive “behavior,” I submitted myself to their authority and did everything that was asked of me. The road ahead was quite difficult. Sometimes, after returning from an episode, I would not be allowed to return home to live with my wife and children. Decisions were made for me not to live in our home but rather to temporarily live in homeless shelters. Once, I slept on a school playground because I couldn’t walk fast enough to the homeless shelter before it closed. This was all done because the leaders in our church felt it was best for me not to return home so that I could deal with the “flaw in my character.” Desperate to see a change in my life, I saw these actions as Godly discipline. Yet, no matter what, these “behaviors” did not change.
During a church service in 1994, I was overwhelmed with everything going on. I knelt and placed my face in the pew. I began crying out in prayer for God to remove whatever was causing all these issues in my life. Then, in my spirit, I saw myself standing in a field of billowing wheat. It stretched on for miles in every direction I could see. I asked God why I was seeing a wheat field. At that moment, I heard God speak into my spirit that I was not seeing wheat, but I was seeing outstretched arms of hurting people praying to be set free. I immediately knew this was my call to ministry. The Lord was clear with His call, and I could no longer dismiss it.
So much has happened since that church service in 1994. Jamie and I have ministered to individuals and families affected by pornography. We’ve been church planters in the city limits of St. Louis. We’ve fought a lengthy legal battle over zoning laws against the City of St. Louis. We ministered in our home when we lost our church building. We’ve coached and mentored kids and teens while running a USA swim team. All of this was done while facing the difficulties of dealing with my mental illness and the issues that stem from it. I have continued to pray that God would remove this from my life, but His answer is always the same.
“But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
- 2 Corinthians 12:9
Just as Jesus spoke to Little James in that episode of “The Chosen,” I know I need to continue praising God despite my mental illness. The testimony of God’s work through a broken vessel like mine shows that only God gets the glory and praise. I wasn’t chosen to minister because of all my accomplishments. I wasn’t selected to minister because I was highly educated. I didn’t finish Bible college because I wasn’t permitted to return after one of my mental health episodes. Yet, God has used every struggle, every problem, and every trial to teach me compassion towards others and give me the heart to minister to the hurting.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says,
“All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”
God may not be calling you into ministry as He did me. His purpose may be for you to take something horrible that has happened in your life and help others going through the same thing. What you have gone through and how God has brought you through it makes you qualified to listen, understand, and support someone going through the same thing. After my Mom died from cancer, my father was able to be a support system for others going through the horrors of losing a spouse to cancer. Jamie and I can talk with couples about the pain of losing a child to stillbirth after losing two sons in that way. I personally know individuals who have been incarcerated that can now minister to others trying to learn to live again in the outside world. I can speak directly to those who feel God cannot use them because of something in their lives. I know their pain. I know their heartache. I know their despair. Yet, God has comforted me in all of my troubles. Now, I can use the struggles I have gone through to help others. God has shown me that through the power of my testimony, He can bring hope to others. Don’t let the enemy try to convince you that you have nothing to offer to someone hurting. He has met you in your time of need and showed you His great compassion. Now, He challenges you to do the same for others.
