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A Full Life
Scripture: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” — John 10:10
A comedian once joked, “I told my anxiety to take a day off — it said it would, but kept sending me updates.” It’s a funny line about a very serious subject. And it only scratches the surface of how complex and exhausting mental health challenges can be.
May 1st marks the beginning of Mental Health Awareness Month — the time of year when we make visible the invisible battle that countless people, and those who love and support them, fight every single day. It’s when we acknowledge the weight of that fight and offer the recognition and care these folks so rightly deserve.
And there are a lot of people in this fight.
Many researchers argue that our world is in the grip of a mental health crisis. The World Health Organization estimates that more than one billion people live with a mental health condition — roughly 970 million battling depression and 746 million wrestling with anxiety. To put that in perspective: more people on this planet navigate a mental health challenge than five times the entire population of the United States. And that number doesn’t even account for the many more who live alongside and support those who do.
Throughout this month, we’ll explore a range of statistics and stories around this global epidemic. For now, it’s enough to name just how vast the problem is.
Part of why the mental health crisis runs so deep is that we, as individuals, rarely make our mental health a priority. Instead, we neglect ourselves — often because we’re too consumed by caring for others, or too worried about what others will think of us if we don’t.
What makes this harder is that the world around us — our workplaces, our relationships, our routines — doesn’t just tolerate that neglect. It often rewards it. And for many people, the messages they receive from their faith community make things worse rather than better. Instead of being a place of rest, strength, and hope, religion becomes another source of harm for those already struggling.
But there is good news this morning.
Our scripture gets at the very heart of what our faith is for. Jesus doesn’t come to add to our suffering — he comes to increase our joy, to cultivate in us a life of abundance, a life full of good things. That is the foundation. That is the point.
And what Jesus offers stands in sharp contrast to what much of the world gives us. We live surrounded by forces that steal, kill, and destroy. Some of them are easy to recognize. Many are not.
Some of the thieves in our lives are people we trust — people we socialize with, work alongside, live with, even love. To be fair, their harm isn’t always intentional. Sometimes it’s simply a careless self-centeredness that never stops to consider the damage it leaves behind. But the effect is real: we walk away from those interactions feeling empty, used, or worse — and those feelings take a serious toll on our mental health.
And the thieves aren’t only people. Sometimes they are systems — structures that unjustly drain our finances, consume our time, steal our peace, and in some cases take our freedom. That kind of harm can devastate a person’s mental and emotional well-being.
Our faith, according to this scripture, is fundamentally restorative. When practiced well, it seeks to heal, replenish, and revitalize — to help us hold onto and grow what is most vital to our well-being, including, perhaps especially, our mental health. As author Lalah Delia wrote, “Self-care is how you take your power back.”
As people of faith, a full life is available to us. God invites us into abundance — deep, genuine fullness — and that fullness necessarily includes a healthy mind. But we have a part to play. We must trust a God who cares for our whole being, and we must make our own care a priority, so we can step into the life of good things God has in store for us.
Amen.
