When Faith Meets Mental Illness: How God Helped Me Take One More Step
In April 2024, I wrote a poem. In video titles I say “written in the middle of a mental breakdown” because that’s the best way I know how to describe it. I don’t really know what to call it. But I can describe it for you — and then you’ll understand why I wrote this poem.
The Circumstances That Changed Everything
At the end of January 2024, my daughter went from being a typical newborn to a little baby surrounded by wires, tubes, and medications being pumped into her tiny body. In one hour, my husband and I went from a married couple who had weekly date nights to a medical team who saw each other for only an hour a day.
Our lives became filled with conversations with neurologists, decisions about medications, and endless research into this rare disorder our daughter had just been diagnosed with. Our “normal” life seemed like it would never return — and we were right. It never did.
The Power — and Limits — of Adrenaline
The adrenaline that floods your body in moments like that is extraordinary. Somehow, you find the strength to keep going on little to no sleep. You’re able to have serious discussions while your child is on death’s door. You make impossible decisions with a kind of resolve you didn’t know existed.
That strength, I believe, comes from one source — our Creator. He answered our prayer. He gave us what we needed to endure the hardest time of our lives, and He gave breath to our baby girl.
But eventually, the adrenaline fades. At first, it hits in spurts. I’d hear a beep and my heart would start to race. I’d try to step out of the hospital room to find something that felt “normal,” but I couldn’t get past the door. Fear froze me — fear that my baby might stop breathing if I left.
When the Fear Stayed After the Crisis
Even when I slept, it wasn’t peaceful. My sleep was filled with nightmares and hallucinations — the nightstand became a ventilator, the pillow became my baby who wasn’t breathing.
Those adrenaline bursts led up to one terrifying event. My body suddenly felt 300 pounds heavier. My head was full of air, my fingers numb. I couldn’t move. I didn’t know how I was still breathing. I tried to call my husband, but my words wouldn’t come out right. And I was alone — in a hotel room. There was no one to help me out of bed.
When My Mind had a Bad Solution
Somehow, I made it to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, heart racing. Then the thought came: “What if I left? Changed my name? Just vanished?”
I now know that was a suicidal thought. The day before, my stress had triggered my daughter’s symptoms — leaving her temporarily paralyzed. I believed she would be better off without me. That day, it all caught up. And I stood there, in front of a stranger’s mirror in a hotel room I called home, letting that thought linger.
God is Always There
That’s when I believe the Lord gave me the strength to write.
He heard me — the way He heard Job when he said, “If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales!” (Job 6:2) or Jeremiah when he cried for God to take his life because he felt his mission was failing (Jeremiah 20:14–18). In those stories, God appeared in a whirlwind, a breeze, or an angel.
I don’t always know how He works, but I know this: when I’m at my worst, it’s not me who finds strength. I’m too weak. It’s my Creator who knows me best.
The Poem He Gave Me
For me, His answer came through a poem. God wasn’t speaking to me audibly — but He gave me the strength to do what I knew how to do: write. Through His love, He carried me through it.
“I exist,
But I don’t want to be seen.
I feel,
Yet I feel numb all the same.
My heart takes me to places –
I’d never imagine wanting to go
Death seems a comfort,
Darkness a friend
How can I put one foot forward,
When I don’t even feel my feet
How can I be strong,
When this is the strongest I have
My heart is failing,
My mind has nowhere to go
I know God is here –
Yet I have no hope all the same
Save me –
Save me from this pain
I want to quit,
But somethings keeping me here
How do I keep moving,
When my whole body is going still?
I can’t breathe – I can’t think
This darkness is so thick –
I can only see one light
My girl – her smile
It’s the only thing I see
It hurts, it kills –
But that smile keeps me alive
I catch my breath,
I hold it one second –
Then slowly,
I take one more step.”
One More Step
The Spirit gave me the strength — through that writing — to take one more step. I left the bathroom, got dressed, and went to the hospital where my 5-month-old baby girl greeted me with a smile. I didn’t leave. I didn’t vanish. I showed up for my girl. I showed up for my husband.
And in that moment, I remembered my calling. My life isn’t about me — it’s about God. And He reminded me of that truth.
Finding Purpose in the Pain
For a long time after writing this poem, I carried deep guilt. I felt like I stayed for the wrong reason — not because leaving was wrong, but because I stayed for my daughter’s smile. Then one of my mentors said to me, “My dear, God gave you Paige. You stayed because of His gift. That wasn’t selfish at all.”
Those words helped me see that God is everywhere. And when I choose to take one more step because of the people or the duties He’s placed in my life, that’s exactly what He asks of me.
When the Mind Lies
Mental illness — or, in other words, when your mind stops working the way it should — shouldn’t drive you to follow its dark whispers. It should drive you to do the opposite of what your mind wants. That’s where God’s power is found.
That’s what has saved me, time and time again, from the depths of mental sickness and depression.
Don’t listen to your mind when it lies to you. It steals God’s precious gifts — her smile, His peace, your purpose. Hold on to those gifts.
And when you can’t see the way forward, just take one more step.
