I never expected to struggle with a mental health disorder. I’m sure most people don’t. Yet here I am.

My journey of mental health discovery began in 2013. I was sobbing in my 2004 Dodge Stratus on the way to Ozarks Technical Community College in Springfield, Missouri, overwhelmed and exhausted. This became a pattern as I matured into adulthood.

There was a season when I cried every Monday, worn out by the exhaustion of ministry at a setup/teardown church plant and the additional career of a job in the Christian nonprofit sector.

This was my normal — but it was a far cry from a true “normal.” The sad truth is that it took 10 years, the earth-shattering COVID-19 pandemic, and significant work-life trauma to unravel the reality of my diagnosis.

I’m not alone. An alarming number of Generation Z find themselves battling a mental health issue of some kind. Further, millennials — who make up a large share of today’s workforce — can be termed “the burnout generation,” and mental health issues play a significant role in them earning this title.

Like me, they’re trying to figure out what’s wrong and need someone to come alongside to help. The positive news is that mental health stigmas are becoming less, well, “stigmatic” in the world at large. While this is a healthy shift, we must ask, “Is the church keeping up?”

Those of us who grew up in church culture understand the general resistance to conversations surrounding mental health, especially medication.

When my doctor first prescribed anti-anxiety medication, I balked. How could I use a medication to deal with an issue that Jesus could handle? However, the deeper I got into my diagnosis journey, the more I realized that there was something physical going on outside of my control.

Though the anti-anxiety medication didn’t do much more than make me sleepy, my mental health investigation led me to my primary care doctor and bloodwork. When all of this came back clear, I turned to a psychiatrist, who confirmed what I had begun to suspect.

In today’s mentally struggling world, pastors cannot afford to be illiterate in the mental health arena.

I was battling bipolar disorder, an illness that ran in my family. It was also an issue that may get worse without treatment, thus beginning my true journey with medication.

As soon as I became stabilized, my life was completely different. I had more joy, more peace, more confidence, and most importantly a better understanding of God and my relationship with Him. It changed the game for me physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.

The reality is that I wouldn’t have made it to this point without the loving care of my church family. It was a church co-worker who first identified what I was feeling as depression. It was a pastor who encouraged me to take the medication I needed, and another who asked me to visit my primary care doctor and subsequently a psychiatrist. All along the journey, my church supported me.

How Churches Can Help

With my experience in mind, there are five ways the Church can partner with Gen Zers and millennials to master their mental health journeys.

First, we seek to understand. There may be more under the surface of the young adults we work with. The tears I shed every Monday should have been a warning sign to those who knew me, an indicator that something was wrong. Emotional outbursts are symptoms of a deeper issue.

Overwhelming anxiety may need treatment beyond what the Church can provide. Never assume that you know the answer. Instead, seek to understand what is happening in the lives of the young adults on the church staff and within your congregation.

Second, we listen, then speak. Mental health issues can be exasperating for everyone involved. No one wants to battle mental illness or distress, and no one wants to deal with the effects of it either.

Taking time to listen to the young adults under your care can help discern what’s wrong and learn how best to care for them. Be careful with your words during these conversations. There were careless words spoken to me that still sting — even those said with my best interest in mind. Consider how your emotions, expressions, and word choices may affect the person you’re speaking to.

Third, deepening your knowledge is critical. In today’s mentally struggling world, pastors cannot afford to be illiterate in the mental health arena. No, we can’t be experts, but we should be attuned to general research and knowledge on these topics.

Do you know how to discern signs of mental illness? Are you aware of what mental illnesses are most battled among the generations you minister to? If not, begin reading, listening to podcasts, or taking a course. While being a professional isn’t necessary, all of these will make you more equipped for conversations regarding mental health.

Fourthly, care over criticism is the best practice. It’s easy to see the negative evidence of mental illness and react to that — tardy arrivals, late work, emotional responses, sharp tones. Slow down long enough to look beyond the prickly exterior to the person underneath.

This is not an excuse for poor work. Instead, it is an invitation to more. When we properly care for our staff members, we provide opportunities for rising to new levels of health, which will naturally lead to better performance. We do this not to achieve certain goals but to enable those in our flocks to become the best they can be.

Finally, when it comes to our staff — and hardworking volunteers — we remember that it’s person first, ministry second. As someone who has led teams of 50-plus volunteers and a staff of five, I understand the need for results and the drive for excellence. However, this cannot come at the expense of a team member’s well-being.

Whatever the goal and ministry outcome, we must put them aside because of our desire for the individual’s self-interest. This is a perfect example of leaving the 99 for the one, as Jesus did. This doesn’t mean putting ministry on hold or abandoning productivity and goals. It simply equates to doing our best to slow down long enough to help someone struggling.

My church did that for me. After the COVID-19 pandemic, we launched an initiative called Operation Hope, an opportunity for those gasping in the wake of COVID to come up for air.

Whatever the issue — mental health, addiction, or sin — we were given a safe space for coaching, pastoring, and healing. This looked like intentional small groups, 1:1 mentoring, and meetings with qualified staff pastors. This initiative changed my life.

If I hadn’t begun the journey with the church family members I mentioned earlier, I don’t know how long it would have taken for someone to tell me I needed to see a doctor. I don’t know where I would be if our senior pastors had decided that the ministry must press forward, regardless of the cost to their staff.

What if you went on a similar journey? What if your church’s staff meetings, small groups, and young adults’ environments made space for mental health conversations to become the norm? What if your pastoral care began to include mental health check-ins and referrals to counselors?

Sure, it’s messy, time-consuming, and painful. But you might save a life along the way.