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christian counseling today
Vol. 21 no. 2
Amy S impson
It felt like an earthquake, the ground suddenly moving underneath us. When the quaking
stopped, everything—and everyone—had changed… and the aftershocks would
continue for decades. Only this was a different kind of shaking.
I was only 14 and my family was rocked to its foundation when my mother suffered
a severe and disabling psychotic break. After that day, her illness could no longer be
hidden; her symptoms could no longer be dismissed as quirks of personality. Eventually,
she was diagnosed with schizophrenia, an apt explanation for her long history of
challenges with cognitive functioning, emotional expression, and relationships. Her
diagnosis was a helpful point of reference for the future as we walked through the harsh
effects of her illness: delusions, paranoia, religious confusion, panic attacks, numerous
hospital admissions, homelessness, criminal conviction, and even prison time.
My dad was a pastor until I was 13. After that we were committed laypeople, involved
in a strong church that, like many, was in over its head when facing my family’s crisis. I
had been in church my entire life and never heard mental illness mentioned in a sermon,
youth group meeting, or any other theological conversation. So when mom’s breakdown
created a spiritual crisis for me, I didn’t feel I could discuss my questions with anyone.
That door just wasn’t open.
we are called to
The Church
and Mental
Illness
care