Darkness Is My Only Friend. 3 Psalms of Lament
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How do the Psalms of Lament help with faith and mental health? Insights from Dave Quak
The Psalms of Lament offer a raw, honest way to process pain, grief, and frustration with God. In this deep and vulnerable account of Sunburnt Souls, Dave Quak explores:
Psalm 51 – Dealing with the pain we bring on ourselves
Psalm 3 – Wrestling with the pain caused by others
Psalm 88 – Navigating pain that feels like it comes from God Himself
In a world that often tells us to suppress our emotions, God actually invites us to bring our brokenness to Him. These psalms show us that lament is not a lack of faith—it’s an act of trust. If you're struggling with guilt, hurt, or feeling distant from God, this episode is for you.
Join us as we explore how God meets us in our darkest moments and leads us toward restoration. Listen now on Sunburnt Souls and be reminded—you’re not alone.
Today, we're going to get real. We're going to talk about what it's like when life feels rubbish—when everything seems to be falling apart, when people are driving you insane, when you're driving yourself insane, and when it even feels like God is against you or something in the spiritual realm is messing with you.
Maybe you've felt this way. Maybe you've wanted to throw your hands in the air and just walk away. Maybe you've felt broken, or even suicidal. Or maybe you haven't wanted to die, but you haven't exactly wanted to live either. You’re stuck somewhere in that dark middle.
So far on the podcast, I’ve shared more about my manic episodes with bipolar than anything else. But the other side of bipolar—the depression—is just as real. It’s the side where you feel broken, mistreated, and overwhelmed, where it seems like everything is against you and nothing is working out.
How can the Psalms of Lament help you find hope when life falls apart?
Over the last few weeks, I’ve changed my medication, and so far, it’s been really helpful. About four weeks ago, I started taking lithium. It’s been around since 1959, and it’s great for reducing manic episodes. And I needed that because, in my manic episodes, I tend to do the most damage—to myself, to my family.
It’s when I don’t think clearly and when I create more chaos around the home, sometimes hurting my kids in ways I don’t mean to.
The lithium has helped with that. It’s brought down the mania. But it’s also lowered my baseline a bit, meaning that while the highs aren’t as high, the lows are lower. And right now, I’m feeling really low. I’ve been around a lot of people who are really low too. It feels like there’s a lot of spiritual warfare going on, like a heaviness hanging over my family and me.
So today, we’re going to explore something called the Psalms of Lament. Maybe you’ve heard of them, maybe you haven’t, but about a third of the Psalms fall into this category. They’re basically songs written by people in places of deep brokenness, crying out to God, searching for restoration.
These Psalms have been used for thousands of years—by people who just need to go out into a field and let it all out before God. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, but sometimes when we bottle things up for too long, it only takes a little release before the floodgates open, and everything just spills out. And honestly, I think that’s a good thing. We were built to lament. We were built to connect with God, even in our darkest moments.
The Psalms of Lament are a gift—training us in how to connect with God when we’re broken. But often, in our Western, sanitised version of Christianity, we don’t let it fly with God. We’re afraid of being irreverent or disrespectful. And I get that. But I also don’t want my relationship with God to be so sanitised that I can’t bring Him everything—including my brokenness.
So today is for those who need to draw near to God even when they feel shattered. It’s for those who need His restoration and peace. We’re going to look at three different Psalms, each one serving a different purpose. They’re all about moving from brokenness to restoration, often at the hands of something working against us.
What are the three sources of pain, and how can the Psalms of Lament bring healing?
Our own actions.
The actions of others.
The actions of God or the supernatural realm.
And so, we’re going to look at three different Psalms of Lament that address each of these situations.
Grab a Bible—pause this if you need to—and follow along. I’ll be reading from the ESV, but use whatever version you prefer.
How can we find healing from the pain caused by our own actions?
First up is Psalm 51. This one is about King David, a man who found himself in deep darkness and despair because of his own actions. I mess up a lot. Maybe you do too. I mess up so much that I need to know how to move from brokenness to restoration when it’s my fault.
Psalm 51 gives us a powerful example of what that looks like.
In case you don’t know the context—King David was supposed to be at war. It was the season when kings went off to battle, but instead of leading his troops, he was wandering around the rooftop of his palace. That’s when he saw a beautiful woman bathing—Bathsheba. He summoned her, slept with her, and set off a chain of events that led to some of the darkest moments of his life…
Some people speculate that David raped Bathsheba because she had no way to say no—he was the king, he had complete autonomy. So, he sleeps with her, she falls pregnant, and in an attempt to cover it up, he has her husband killed. You can read about it in 2 Samuel 11.
But that’s the essence of the problem. Now, I’ve never had an affair, but I do know what it’s like to stuff up. David finds himself in a place where he realises he’s messed up—he’s let down both people and God. So, he comes to God in Psalm 51:1 and says:
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion, blot out my transgressions."
"Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin."
What I love about this is that David doesn’t come to God trying to earn his way back or justify himself. He simply throws himself on God’s mercy. He says, "Have mercy on me, Lord, according to your unfailing love."
When we stuff up and cause pain—especially pain we’ve brought upon ourselves—we need to remember that it’s God’s grace and mercy that sets us free. When you’ve really messed up, you know there’s nothing you can do to fix it on your own. You can sit in the darkness, beating yourself up, or you can go to God and plead for His forgiveness.
One of the things that blows my mind is how God responds when I come to Him, broken by my own mistakes. He doesn’t chastise me, call me an idiot, or make things worse. I’ve already done all of that in my own head. Instead, He brings grace and restoration.
When we experience darkness because of our own stupidity, we need to come to God and ask for His redemption—because we can’t fix it on our own. Yes, we should apologise to the people we’ve hurt. Yes, we shouldn’t use grace as a free pass to keep making the same mistakes. But we need to understand that without God’s grace, we’re stuffed.
I encourage you to read the whole psalm, but my favourite verse is Psalm 51:10:
““Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.” King David represents all of us. He was a man after God’s own heart, yet he had an affair and even committed murder. If you’re a believer, just remember—you’re not exempt from extreme stupidity.”
I’ve met many Christians who’ve had affairs, just like David. I know Christians addicted to porn, alcohol, drugs, and sex.
The other day, I was chatting with a mate about a game show idea. The premise was that we’d pay people to do things they’d never normally do. We started off with silly stuff—like dancing in public or doing a nudie run. But then it got darker. We asked, “How much money would it take for you to push an old man off a pier? To kidnap someone’s dog for ransom? To drive by and shoot someone with an airsoft gun?”
What we found in the discussion was that most people had a price.
Think about your own life—okay, so you wouldn’t push an old man into the ocean for 200 bucks. But what about $5,000? Or $100,000? What about for a brand-new house in this insane housing market? Maybe then, you’d be tempted. Hopefully not. But the point is, our capacity for self-destruction is bigger than we like to admit.
That’s why Psalm 51 is so important—it applies to all of us. And that’s actually really good news. If David was this broken and still found redemption, then so can we. If you come to God and say, "I’ve stuffed up. Have mercy on me."—He will. And He will create in you a clean heart and renew you from the inside out.
That’s how you move from darkness to light. But that’s just one side of the equation. What if your pain isn’t caused by your own mistakes? What if you’re in darkness because of someone else’s actions? What do you do when a family member lets you down, when a friend isn’t there for you, or worse—when they actively hurt you?
How can we heal from the pain caused by others?
We know we mess up. But sometimes, other people mess us up. And that kind of brokenness? That kind of trauma? It needs dealing with too. Some of us had horrible childhoods. Some of us had toxic spouses or bully bosses. The list goes on and on. Well, once again, King David knew what it was like to be in turmoil at the hands of someone else. In Psalm 3, we find King David running for his life because his own son wants to kill him.
Now, I've had some family issues, but my own son doesn’t want to kill me. Sometimes he's angry at me. Sometimes we disagree. But no one in our family has gotten to the point where it’s like, "Dude, we want this person dead." This is a good example that anything up to this is still redeemable by God. Psalm 3 is a psalm of lament where King David just lets it fly before God.
He's stuffed, he needs help, and he goes to God for restoration. Psalm 3:1 says:
O Lord, how many are my foes! Many are rising up against me; many are saying of my soul, ‘There is no salvation for him in God.’
His accusers are basically saying, "You know what? King David’s fallen away from the kingdom. Surely he’s not worthy of being a king if his own son wants him dead."
That’s the line of thinking from the people coming against him. So David starts with his complaint in verses 1 and 2, but then in verse 3, he says:
But you, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. I cried aloud to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy hill.
He shifts quickly from expressing his frustration and dismay to calling out to God. Then in verse 5, he says:
I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me. I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around.
What we see here is the exponential grief David is experiencing. Not only is his son trying to kill him, but this son, Absalom, was really persuasive and convinced others to come against David too. It wasn’t just one person—it was a growing rebellion.
But what I find fascinating in this passage is that he says he was able to sleep. I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me.
I don’t know about you, but when I’m going through hard stuff, the last thing I’m good at is sleep. I get nightmares, grind my teeth, and wake up exhausted. But David declares here that, in the power of God, even when people are against him, he can still rest—because God is the one who sustains him.
Then in verse 7, he summons the Lord to move:
“Arise, O Lord! Save me, O my God! For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked. Salvation belongs to the Lord; your blessing be on your people!”
Arise, O Lord! Save me, O my God! For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked. Salvation belongs to the Lord; your blessing be on your people!
David expects God to move. He had walked with God long enough to know that when people were against him, he could trust God to act.
I don’t know how you go with your relationship with God when people are against you, but we can learn from King David in Psalm 3. He trained himself in the art of getting restoration. He trained himself in trusting God. And it’s not like he just pretended nothing was wrong—he laid down his burdens before God but trusted God to intervene.
I don’t know where you’re at, but if you’ve got people against you and you're feeling that pain—whether it’s someone now or someone from the past—God can bring restoration.
Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t get counselling or take medication if your GP and psychiatrist recommend it. But there’s also restoration to be found in God. You can draw near to Him. I often say on this podcast that mental illness is both spiritual and biological. So yeah, you’ve got to fight with biological weapons, but you’ve also got to fight with spiritual weapons too.
Maybe you want to write a psalm of lament. Follow the pattern of Psalm 3. You might even find that in writing a psalm of lament, you’re reminded of all the things God has set you free from. Absolutely, feel free to express your grievances—write everything down before the Lord. He’s open to every discussion. But in doing so, you’ll probably be reminded of how much He’s already brought you through.
I know when I’m struggling with someone, I think about all the somebodies from my past that I’m either reconciled with now or have at least forgiven. There’s no malice anymore. As much as our capacity for brokenness and stupidity is big, God’s capacity for making things right and restoring relationships is even bigger.
So have a crack at writing a psalm of lament and see if it helps you process some of your brokenness.
How should Christians understand pain caused by God or the supernatural realm?
And then lastly, Psalm 88—this is the quintessential psalm of lament. If you've got an issue with God, if you feel like He has let you down, if you feel like He has ruined your life, if you feel like He's not acting when He could or isn’t intervening where He should—if you feel like He’s not acting in the character of His goodness and you’re trying to figure out what the heck is going on—Psalm 88 is a really good psalm for that.
Basically, this psalm is a lament where the sons of Korah—a group of people who wrote some of the Psalms—come before God and acknowledge that they are stuffed, and they take God to task. And it’s in the Bible, which means we’re allowed to do that too.
Now, I’m not an advocate for swearing at God or being disrespectful, but I’m also not an advocate for having a shallow relationship with Him. I want to be able to come before God and speak to Him at every level, about anything, from the depths of my soul.
So let’s go through Psalm 88. If you feel like your life is hard at the moment—maybe even at the hands of God Himself—hopefully, this gives you a framework to respond to Him.
The psalm starts in verse one:
"O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out day and night before you. Let my prayers come before you; incline your ear to my cry."
I think this sets a really good framework for the psalm because it’s saying, “Look, I am crying out day and night.” Have you ever felt like that? Like you're constantly asking God to intervene, and it just seems like He’s not listening? Well, that’s where these guys were.
““For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol (death). I am counted among those who go down to the pit. I am like a man who has no strength, like one set loose among the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, like those whom you remember no more, for they are cut off from your hand. You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep. Your wrath lies heavy upon me, and you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.””
This is a psalm to God. If you’ve ever felt this way and wanted to express it to Him, that’s okay. The psalmist is saying, “My soul is full of troubles. I feel dead. I feel like I belong in the grave. My life feels like a pit—dark and deep. And your wrath lies heavy upon me.”
Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true, but that’s how he feels. And he feels the freedom to cry that out before God.
Maybe you’ve felt like God has put you in the pit. Maybe you feel like His wrath is against you.
Verse eight:
"You have caused my companions to shun me; you have made me a horror to them."
So he’s saying, “God, my friends have turned against me—and You did it. You turned my friends against me. You turned my family against me. This is on You.”
"I am shut in so that I cannot escape; my eyes grow dim through sorrow."
Have you ever felt sorrow so deep that it feels like your eyes grow dim? I think this is saying, “I’ve cried so much my eyes actually hurt.”
Verse ten:
"Do you work wonders for the dead? Do the departed rise up to praise you? Is your steadfast love declared in the grave, or your faithfulness in Abaddon? Are your wonders known in the darkness, or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?"
Basically, the psalmist is saying, “God, your works mean nothing here. It’s like you don’t move in the dark. It’s like there’s no presence of God here, and I feel absolutely alone.”
Verse thirteen:
"But I, O Lord, cry to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you. O Lord, why do you cast my soul away? Why do you hide your face from me?"
That’s a good question. Have you ever prayed, tried to run to God, and it feels like He’s hiding His face from you? That’s a terrible feeling.
I struggle when I’m trying to get close to people I love, and they seem disinterested in reciprocating that love. It feels like that’s the kind of pain this psalmist is carrying right now towards God. It’s like, “I’m running to You—why do You keep running away from me?”
Verse fifteen:
"Afflicted and close to death from my youth up, I suffer Your terrors; I am helpless."
He’s saying, “Even since I was a kid, it’s felt like this.”
Have you ever felt like that?
You're walking in sorrow for a long time. Do you ever feel older than you are because of the grief, trauma, and pain you've carried? I know I do. I'm 43, but sometimes I feel like I'm 80 because my body, mind, and soul are fatigued from carrying darkness. That's exactly what the psalmist is talking about here.
Verse 16 says, "Your wrath has swept over me; your dreadful assaults destroy me. They surround me like a flood all day long; they close in on me together. You have caused my beloved and friend to shun me; my companions have become darkness." Or, in the NIV, "Darkness is my only friend." He's saying, "You know what I feel? None of your presence. No joy in anything else. My only friend is darkness."
Sometimes it feels like my most consistent companion is darkness too, that all I have to work with is this heaviness that never lifts. Sure, I get temporary relief, but it's always in the background, ready to pull me back down into the depths. That’s what this psalm is about—a cry from the depths, from brokenness, from a crushed spirit looking for reprieve and not getting it. When you're depressed and crushed, it can feel like this. But these three psalms of lament train us to move from brokenness to restoration.
The reality of life on this side of eternity is that pain will keep happening. You'll keep letting yourself down. People will keep hurting you. And there will be times when it feels like God isn’t there—even when He is. The only permanent solution to this is a relationship with Jesus.
Because here's how it works: if your identity is wrapped up in your own ability to achieve things, you're going to be disappointed. You will always fall short of your own expectations. You’ll never be kind enough to yourself. You’ll never satisfy your own moral compass. You may not even have the money you need or the career you aspire to.
But when you have a relationship with Jesus, all of that becomes secondary. I know I’ll keep stuffing up every single day. I’ll wake up and be a less-than-perfect husband. I’ll be a subpar dad. I’ll mess up my morality. I’ll scream at someone in traffic. By my own standards, I will not be good enough.
But by God's standards—because of Jesus—I’m no longer seen through the lens of my failures. I am seen as a son of God, a co-heir with Christ. Because of my relationship with Jesus, I become like His brother. And God no longer looks at me as a failure, an idiot, or an angry person. He looks at me as His child.
If you want restoration when you’ve messed up because of your own actions, it's only found in Christ and His grace. Real restoration comes from a relationship with Jesus, where yes, you still make mistakes, and yes, you still feel remorse, but it no longer separates you from God or defines who you are.
And if you’re experiencing pain at the hands of someone else, that doesn’t stop when you know Jesus. But the difference is that their actions no longer have the ultimate say over your life. They will affect you. They will hurt you. But they won’t define you—because your proximity to God will. Not only will their actions lose their power and potency, but you might even reach a place where you can forgive and even pray for their blessing.
That’s true freedom. It’s a miracle only God can do by His power. And yes, you should seek help through psychology, medical support, or whatever else you need. But imagine a life where you’re no longer controlled by the actions of others—that’s found in Christ.
I’m not saying it’s a simplistic transaction where you just tick a box and everything is magically fine. But instead of carrying the weight alone, you walk through it with Jesus.
And then lastly, if you feel like your life is terrible at the hands of God Himself, when you have a relationship with Jesus, when you actually accept that He reconciles you to God, then you can trust that God's actions are in line with His purposes for your life. The Word of God says that all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.
And it doesn't mean that everything, like I've said already, is going to be hunky-dory and sweet. There are still going to be struggles, there is still going to be brokenness. But you'll start to trust that when life is hard, it's not God punishing you. And when people are against you, it's not because God set them against you.
My take on this is that hard things happen, bad things happen, brokenness exists, and when those things happen, God uses them to redeem you for His purposes. Whether He sends them, allows them, or drains them—whatever. I don't know, man. That's beyond my pay grade. But all I know is that bad crap happens. And when it does, God's master plan is redemption.
I've got a friend who experienced darkness for at least a decade because she desperately wanted to be a mama bear, and she and her husband were trying to have kids. Over that decade, they had six miscarriages. And every time they got pregnant, there was that rollercoaster ride of excitement and joy, thinking there could be a little bub on the way.
But then, whether it was a month, two months, or three months down the track, the inevitable heartbreak of losing the baby would happen. The miscarriage would come, and then the heartbreak of having to start again. And then the question—do we even have the capacity to try again? When you're going through that kind of darkness, it feels divine, like you've got some sort of issue with God.
There's a biological side to it, and there are conditions this side of eternity that make it hard to get pregnant. But those sorts of things feel divine. There are certain problems that feel supernatural, like God's intervention should be there. Imagine if you've got a loved one, and suddenly they're dealing with a severe chronic illness. Or they get cancer. Or a child gets cancer.
I mean, it's abhorrent, but it feels like a God thing. Think about the loss of a loved one—a young loved one, or someone who was just incredible. Some people pass away, and not many people grieve. Then others die, and 2,000 people show up at the funeral because they were just that amazing. It doesn't seem right.
I know for myself, having mental health issues feels like a supernatural, God-type thing. I'm often questioning Him, asking why it's not lifting, why it still affects me and my family. You might meet an amazing woman who's just the best, and then you find out she's got an abusive husband who's a complete prick behind the scenes. And you're like, "God, how does that happen?"
Or you start a business, and you know you're doing it to employ people, to better the world, to do something good—and then it goes belly-up. Or you run a not-for-profit organisation, and it costs you your family. Maybe you've had a moment where you think, "The only solution to this is God Himself," but it doesn't seem like He's coming through.
It's in those situations where Psalms like Psalm 88 can be super helpful. They don't always solve everything—I mean, they can't solve everything—but they give us a framework of understanding. At the very least, they offer solidarity with someone else who understands how we feel.
One thing I've noticed with my relationship with God is that it actually is a relationship. And like all relationships, the more you get to know the person, the more you understand their character. Now, this can be both good and bad because, in the context of these Psalms, we all have a relationship first with ourselves, right? We're growing in self-awareness, in understanding how we behave, and in recognising the things we're good at and the things we're not.
One thing I’ve noticed in my relationship with myself is that I do have a capacity for good things. I have a desire to love my family, love my kids, love my church. I want to serve God and bring good things into the world. But as I get to know myself more, I also see my capacity for brokenness.
How can Christians live with lament and find hope in everyday life?
Out of that brokenness, I hurt people. Out of my trauma and unresolved internal dialogue, I lash out. I’m not always the greatest human. So, while I can bring light into the world, I also have the potential for darkness. And as we develop relationships with others, we learn that they have that same capacity. People can bring destruction, act in ways that hurt us, and force us to process pain and implement self-care.
But at the same time, we can bring good things too. And I pray that the people in your life bring good things into your world. Still, as we grow in relationship with others and become more vulnerable, we see that everyone has the potential to cause hurt. That’s just part of being human.
The problem is, we often misunderstand God. We project our understanding of people onto him, thinking he brings destruction or has the capacity for darkness. But what we learn from Psalm 88 is that we have the freedom to express ourselves to God honestly. We can say, “God, I feel like you’ve abandoned me. I feel like I’m in the depths. I feel dark.” We’re allowed to say that.
But we also need to come to a true understanding of who God is. He’s not the bringer of darkness. He’s not the cause of evil, brokenness, or destruction. When you’re going through hard times, when your heart is breaking, God isn’t sitting back laughing at your pain—he’s grieving with you.
When you develop a real, tangible relationship with God—when you start having a dialogue instead of just a monologue—you’ll find that he’s better than you ever imagined. He loves you more than you know. When you’re broken, he’s broken too. When you cry, he sits with you and comforts you.
One of my biggest regrets in life is attributing the brokenness of this world to God’s punishment. It’s just not the case. Yes, vent. Yes, lament. Yes, write psalms like Psalm 88. But come to the place where you understand that God is thoroughly good and deeply in love with you.
How can you make peace with God and find spiritual healing?
And if you’re struggling to believe that in the midst of your pain, just look at Jesus. God showed his ultimate love by sending Jesus for you. The highest expression of love is relationship—more than gifts, more than actions, it’s about being with someone. God loved you so much that he sent Jesus on a rescue mission to make a relationship with him possible. He didn’t leave you in the darkness. He sent Jesus as the light to shine in it.
I’m not here to minimise your pain—whether it’s the pain you’ve caused yourself or what others have done to you. But I am here to ask you to give it to God. Say, “God, I’m tired, I’m aching, I need help. Could you shine your light into my darkness today?”
Thanks for tuning in to Sunburnt Souls. We really appreciate you listening. If you could like and subscribe on Facebook, or follow us on Spotify or any major podcast provider, that would be amazing. We’ve got some powerful interviews coming out in the next couple of weeks, so stay tuned.
Also, on a cool note—some Christian radio stations here in Australia have started playing Sunburnt Souls soundbites and even hosting our podcast, which is really exciting. If you could pray that this message keeps expanding, that would be fantastic.
Thanks for your love and support. May God bless you more than you could ever imagine.
Frequently Asked Questions
How can the Psalms of Lament help Christians struggling with mental illness?
The Psalms of Lament provide a biblical framework for processing grief, depression, and anxiety in a way that deepens faith rather than weakens it. These psalms teach that lament is not a lack of faith but an act of trust, inviting believers to bring their raw emotions before God. Key examples include Psalm 51 for personal guilt, Psalm 3 for external betrayal, and Psalm 88 for feelings of divine abandonment. Through these scriptures, Christians can find validation, emotional release, and a pathway to restoration.
What does the Bible say about depression and feeling distant from God?
The Bible acknowledges the reality of depression and emotional suffering through figures like David, Elijah, and Job, who all struggled with deep despair. Verses like Psalm 34:18 (“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted”) and Isaiah 41:10 (“Do not fear, for I am with you”) affirm God’s presence even in the darkest moments.
Jesus Himself experienced sorrow in Gethsemane (Matthew 26:38), showing that deep emotional pain is not a sign of weak faith. The Bible encourages believers to seek God in their struggles, knowing that He hears their cries and brings healing in His time.
How can Christians navigate suicidal thoughts while holding onto faith?
Christians facing suicidal thoughts are not alone—many biblical figures, including Elijah (1 Kings 19:4) and Jonah (Jonah 4:3), expressed a desire to die. The Psalms of Lament offer a model for crying out to God in distress. Seeking support through prayer, trusted community, professional help, and practical resources is essential.
God's promise in Jeremiah 29:11 affirms that He has plans for a future and a hope, even when life feels unbearable. Suicidal thoughts do not disqualify faith; they are an invitation to seek deeper connection with God and others and get some professional help.
Why does God allow suffering, and how can Christians find hope in pain?
Suffering is a complex reality in a fallen world, but Scripture teaches that God uses trials for greater purposes (Romans 8:28). Pain can draw believers closer to Christ, refine character, and equip them to comfort others (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
Job, Joseph, and Paul all endured suffering yet found that God’s presence and ultimate plan brought redemption. The Psalms of Lament teach that while suffering may not have immediate answers, God invites believers to wrestle with Him in prayer, knowing that He is a refuge in times of trouble.
How can Christians balance faith and mental health treatment?
Faith and mental health treatment are not opposed—God often works through medical professionals, therapy, and medication. Luke, a physician, was part of Jesus' ministry, showing that seeking medical help aligns with biblical wisdom. Proverbs 11:14 emphasizes the importance of wise counsel, and 2 Timothy 1:7 reminds believers that God gives a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind. Engaging in spiritual practices like prayer, Scripture meditation, and worship alongside professional mental health support allows for holistic healing, integrating both faith and practical care.
Are you struggling with faith and mental health? Find hope and support here
For more candid conversations on faith and mental well-being, check out sunburntsouls.com You can subscribe to our podcast on any major platform, or contact us directly to book us to preach or speak. Sunburnt Souls is a faith-based ministry, and we want to thank everyone so far for their generous support.
If you want to get behind us, please pray that our message reaches those who need to hear it. Feel free to donate online, but if you feel obliged or manipulated to give, you’re better off sharing a coffee with a loved one instead. I’m Dave Quak from Sunburnt Souls.
