I used to think witches, demons, and magic spells were just fantasy, something made up for entertainment . . . but by the time I was in Middle School, I knew otherwise. My dad was a Baptist pastor, and even he did not grasp the reality of demonic oppression until tormented people started coming to him for help. Some of these individuals had even been victims of satanic ritual abuse, the worst kind of evil you can imagine. This certainly was not something he learned about in seminary, but my dad was determined to help these people find freedom . . . so he went searching for understanding. Because there were few pastors who knew how to navigate such situations, my dad became the local expert in deliverance ministry, and this ended up becoming a large part of my dad’s passion and calling. This is why I learned about Halloween at a young age. I learned that it is the highest “holy” night for Wiccans and Satanists, a time for ritual sacrifices and ceremonies, and for the worship and invocation of evil. But we did not just read about these things in a book, we learned about them from people who had lived through the unfathomable atrocities that occur on this day. This insight forever changed my view of Halloween, and I could no longer . . .

Over the past decade, I have watched several of my Christian friends walk away from their faith. And these were no laissez-fair Christians either – they were passionate Jesus lovers who ran after God and seized every opportunity to share His love with others. But now, some of these same friends deny the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and have embraced a form of religious pluralism instead (the belief that there are many ways to God and we will all end up in heaven). So what happened - how did they get derailed? And what can we do to . . .

It was one of those days. You know, the ones you never want to repeat again . . . or have anyone remind you of what went down. Connor was three, and he had discovered the fun of stuffing lots of toilet paper in the commode before flushing. He yells for me that the toilet is overflowing and I dash upstairs to assess the damage, only to find he had stuffed the toilet full with paper after . . .

Last year, I had the odd idea that I should give up wearing make-up for Lent.  But Lent was starting in just a few days, and the thought of not wearing make-up to certain places felt daunting . . . so I put the idea on hold.  I try to say “yes” to all of the Lord’s promptings, but He knew I needed more time to process this idea.  This was one of those thoughts God planted for me to ponder . . . until I felt His grace to move forward. So I told my Abba I was listening and gave Him my “yes” for the following year.  And now here I am a year later . . .

I think Joseph Conrad captured the truth when he wrote, “Gossip is what no one claims to like—but everyone enjoys.” Gossip is a pervasive part of our culture and entertainment today (just look at the magazine covers), and Christians are not exempt from the influence. We love to revel in the juicy details of someone else’s drama, especially when we are privy to the news before everyone else. Even Scripture acknowledges how it entices, referring to words of a gossip as “choice morsels” (Proverbs 18:8). The lure, and the lie, is that engaging in such talk will actually satisfy us. Our curiosity about other people’s lives is normal - this is part of being human and doing life in community.  When people meet to catch up on the activities of mutual friends, the talk is not typically malicious . . . and sharing life in this way can actually be a sign of trust and intimacy.  Gathering information from others can even serve the benefit of informing people about their environment (expectations, boundaries, working norms, social cues, etc.). But even with “good intentions,” we can participate ignorantly in gossip . . . and as I discussed this topic with friends, I found out they too had a hard time deciphering their involvement. So how can we determine . . .

In part one of this article, I shared about Mark, whose daughter was killed by a serial killer. Mark is still wrestling through his anger and pain, but learning he can choose forgiveness even when his emotions tell him otherwise. Mark has discovered that his only responsibility is to engage his will; the "heavy work" of forgiveness is God's part.  For many of us, our journey towards freedom begins by duty, and we just have to “fake it till we make it.” We may only have a weak “yes” to offer God as we continue to flounder about in turmoil, but this is actually all God needs to work in our lives. Since we are shaped by what we practice, if we choose to pray for our enemies even when we do not feel like it, and we persist in obedience and surrender, somewhere along the way . . .

I check my schedule when I get to the office and notice that a patient was accidentally booked in two appointment slots. My schedule is typically full, so I notify the front office so they can open that spot in case someone calls that day needing to be seen. Later that morning I realize who filled this opening and I begin to fret inside. What possibly could I do or say to help this patient? His daughter was killed just a few weeks prior by a serial killer, and the memorial service happened to be four years to the day after his wife’s memorial service . . .

God created us with a body, soul, and spirit, and each of these parts play a role in our mental health. In my last article, I discussed the biological and psychological components of mental health, addressing when medication or counseling may be beneficial to help an individual recover (Read HERE). In this article, I will attempt to address some of the spiritual components of mental health, and explain when medication may not be beneficial for symptoms of depression. I will try and differentiate between suffering which carries a divine purpose, from that which requires medical intervention.  This is a complicated topic, one that a short blog can never comprehensively address, but my goal is to at least touch on some of these spiritual issues, possibly uncovering . . .