Share the Burden

"What's the bravest thing you ever said?" asked the boy. "Help," said the horse. Asking for help  isn't giving up; it's refusing to give up." 

-Charlie Mackesy, The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse 

It's been nearly 25 years, and what feels like a million shed tears since I first began my battle with anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and depression. I spent many years bloodied by a struggle that was invisible to onlookers. Meanwhile, a silent war raged between my two ears and deeply in my heart. 

My family was surprised to find out I struggled so severely with mental health issues because I  always seemed "happy." Or at the least content and capable. Isn't this often how it is? Our outsides appear to be floating downstream effortlessly while our insides are drowning. 

The years I stayed silent left me exhausted and defeated. I was convinced no one had the thoughts I had or went through the fear and panic I felt—especially not another Christian. 

My silence came from a lack of words and an abundance of fear. I feared someone finding out how "crazy" I was, that I—and everyone else—would discover I was a terrible, "fake" Christian,  and that no one would be able to help me. One of my greatest fears was that I would be a burden to someone else, a shackle around their peace-filled life. 

My fragile state of mind helped me believe the lie that Christians were exempt from these painful struggles. When in reality, Christians struggle like the rest of the world, and sadly, we will often do so in silence. Mental struggles make us vulnerable to believing that we are defective  Christians, lacking joy and faith. 

Lies Flourish in the Dark

I have a dress form in my room where I hang my scarves and hats. It's more for decoration than practicality. We recently painted our room and had to move it to paint behind it. I came around the corner the other day, forgetting the mannequin had been moved, and about leaped out of my  

skin. It was dark, and from what I could tell, a person wearing fabulous hats and scarves was hiding around the corner, waiting to attack me. 

It's a commonly known truth that darkness morphs reality; even the most innocent objects are considered a threat. But in the light, we see the mannequin for what it is—an inanimate object incapable of hurting us. 

Our Enemy and the Lies He Tells 

Our enemy wants us to believe that we are the only ones going through our particular struggle.  He whispers that we're too broken and too far gone for help, that we're all alone. His lies linger long enough to shut our mouths and souls, preventing hope, light, or healing from entering.

Satan's schemes haven't evolved since the garden, where he observed our weaknesses, tempted us with a question, and slithered away, leaving the battle in our minds. Our enemy wants us alone and in the dark, where He can place inanimate objects around corners to scare us. And our pride is more than happy to keep us there. I am not saying that mental struggles are from Satan, but true to his character, he sees our weak places and will use that to his advantage. 

There's a reason we are not meant to carry burdens alone and wrestle in the dark with fears that haunt us. When we're in this place, we're far more liable to believe any doubt or fear that's presented. 

Casting Light and Bringing Healing 

God created relationships and the church to mirror the unity he shares within the Godhead. The  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are equal in all ways and share the burden of creation and consequence on their shoulders. We—a unique and exquisite creation—as His people, His church, and His hands and feet are no different in how we should bear one another's burdens. The branches should never be spread so far on the vine that we can not intertwine our shoots immediately and lift the other to a higher place upon the trellis. 

It wasn't until I reached my breaking point and said, "I'm not okay, and I need help," that real change and healing started to enter my life. I confided in trusted people and sought the help I  needed. Through this, I discovered that shining light into darkness and inviting others into my struggle had real power. Doing both opens the pathway to healing. 

But it makes sense, right? Jesus, the world's light, entered the darkest night, where healing began. 

Sharing Our Burdens 

Jesus was God incarnate, yet He modeled how to carry a burden. He brought his friends alongside Him and asked them to help share a burden far too heavy to bear alone. 

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples: “Sit here while I go over there and pray.’ And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is very sorrowful, even to  death; remain here, and watch with me” (Matthew 26:36-38, ESV). 

Jesus humbled Himself and asked for help, and we know He didn't have to do this, so why did  He, and what do we learn from this? 

Fulfilling the Law of Christ by Helping One Another 

In Galatians 6:2, Paul commands the Galatian believers to "bear one another's burdens and so  fulfill the law of Christ." The word “bear” in Greek is the verb "bastazo," which means “to uphold, support, or put upon oneself.” When we help share a cumbersome load, we fulfill the law of Jesus, which He spoke in John 13:34: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another:  just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another”(emphasis added). 

Bearing one another's burdens isn't just nice; it's an integral part of God's vision for His community. It's a command and a privilege, and there's a practical reason for this besides helping one another. Verse 35 of John 13 says, "By this, all people will know that you are my  disciples if you love one another." 

What a lovely design: Sharing one another's burdens shows the world we are uniquely His. This was precisely what Jesus modeled in the garden before he walked to the cross. 

Sharing a Burden and the Bravest Thing You'll Ever Say 

The quote at the top is from a children's book with messages that adults too easily forget. It's a lovely read full of minimalist sketches and a simple yet profound message, one of which is that help shouldn't come as a last resort. But sadly, this is often where it's uttered—from the bottom  

of the barrel, bottle, or bathroom floor when every last ounce of strength has been mustered. This was never how God intended for us to walk through this life. 

Sharing the burden of mental health struggles is a passion of mine because it's a large portion of my story. In my darkest space, I longed to know that someone else could see my pain, hear my hurt, and help lift me when I could not lift myself. 

Not everyone will deal with anxiety or depression in their lifetime, but every one of us has a burden that needs lifting, of that, I'm sure. We exist to share one another's burdens and lift each other's loads. It is part of God's beautiful and mysterious plan. It's challenging and rarely comfortable to enter painful spaces with others. But I genuinely believe it is the holiest place we can be—standing in the gap for one another, coming alongside, cleaning wounds, and sharing burdens. 

My purpose and prayer in sharing my story is to urge those suffering and those surrounding those who suffer to do one thing: please share your burdens. Be transparent when it costs the most, and don't be afraid to ask hard questions and speak the truth, even when it's uncomfortable. This could include: I can't change your circumstances but can come alongside you and share your burden. 

Friend, help should not be considered a four-letter word. Instead, it's a bridge and a brace—the bravest word you'll ever speak. 

Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: It is easier to  say, "My tooth is aching" than to say, "My heart is broken." —C.S. Lewis, 1940

-Susan Mcilmoil