Litany of Self-Love

This prayer comes from my own struggles with loving and caring for myself. It is one of the hardest elements of my battle with mental illness, to learn to see and love myself as God does. I pray that this prayer can be useful to others too!

From the pain of self-hatred, Deliver me, Jesus.

From a negative view of my body and self, Deliver me, Jesus.

From disbelief in Your love for me, Deliver me, Jesus.

From doubting that I was created good, Deliver me, Jesus.

From believing I am a burden, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire to be completely self-reliant, Deliver me, Jesus.

From negative self-talk and internal dialogue, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the demands of perfectionism, Deliver me, Jesus.

From my own unattainable expectations, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the pull to neglect my bodily needs, Deliver me, Jesus.

From excessive ascetic practices that You are not asking of me, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the denial of comforts that would draw me closer to You, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the temptation to harm my self: bodily, emotionally, or spiritually, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the temptation to work without rest, Deliver me, Jesus.

When I doubt Your love for me, Be with me, Jesus.

When I want to hide from Your love, Be with me, Jesus.

When I doubt that You want my good, Be with me, Jesus.

When I despise myself, Be with me, Jesus.

When I engage in intentional self-harm, Be with me, Jesus.

When I cannot escape my own self-criticism, Be with me, Jesus.

When I get disconnected from my own self and lost in dissociation, Be with me, Jesus.

When I numb my pain in unhealthy ways, Be with me, Jesus.

When I avoid healthy self-care, Be with me, Jesus.

When I neglect my own needs, Be with me, Jesus.

That I am your beloved daughter/son, Jesus, I trust in You.

That I was created in Your image and likeness, Jesus, I trust in You.

That You are wildly in love with me, Jesus, I trust in You.

That You desire my good, Jesus, I trust in You.

That You will fulfill my good desires, Jesus, I trust in You.

That I am worthy of care and attention, Jesus, I trust in You!

That I am worthy of rest, Jesus, I trust in You!

That I am worthy of food and nourishment, Jesus, I trust in You!

That I am worthy of the care & love I extend to others, Jesus, I trust in You!

That You want me to will my own good, Jesus, I trust in You!

(Printed copies are available at our store. Please credit The Face of Mercy if sharing this prayer. We are delighted to share it as much as we can, but ask that it not be printed for anything more than personal use. You can contact us about bulk discounts or a digital download coming soon for bulk use.)

Dear Church, STOP

This latest Dear Church is a Spoken Letter, shared with permission from a brave soul who originally shared her story on her own platform. She shares this description as well: 

This is my response to the accumulation of advice I’ve been told that is more shameful than helpful. And my message of thanks to the few leaders who showed me compassion and mercy in the midst of my struggle. 📚resources for christian women struggling with sexual/love/relationship addictions
The Grace Spot Ministries: https://bit.ly/3gCeHWB
Beggar’s Daughter: https://beggarsdaughter.com/
SHE Recovery: https://bit.ly/2zJk9X3
Worth Recovery: https://bit.ly/2AqeVPL
Naked Truth Recovery: https://bit.ly/2Aw3ery

Dear Church, From a Comforted Daughter

Dear Church,

As Saint John Paul II always said, “Be Not Afraid.” I know it can be scary to reach out to those who have mental illness because you think you need to have all the answers to their problems. The great news is that you do not need to solve their problems, you just have to be with them. 

You see struggling with mental illness is so hard. We believe so many lies such as, “You are a burden” to “No one wants you around.” All we want is a safe place to land. A safe place where we feel welcomed and not ashamed for having a mental illness. The Church supports those who have visible medical conditions which yes, is so beyond important but we who struggle with mental illness want support too! 

I have had the opportunity to carry my cross of having both severe anxiety and depression for 8 years! The journey has been long but it has been such an honor to carry this cross that way I can be there for others who are struggling. I want to share a story from one Sunday Mass my freshman year of highschool.

It was a cold February Sunday. I got to church and went to my assigned “unassigned” pew. We all have our favorite spots, am I right? As I arrived at church, I was starting to have a panic attack knowing my Great Grandmother would not be here with me much longer. The emotions were high and the prelude music was making me feel extra emotional. It happened my youth minister was sitting right in front of me this week. Before Mass started, she saw me and asked me to move up a pew to sit with her. I did not want to move and make a scene, but also knew my youth minister well enough to know she would insist. She knew exactly what I needed at that moment, I moved and was so grateful. She did not say anything and I want you to know, she did not have too! My youth minister knew the right words would not fix the emotions I was feeling but she did know I needed someone to be with me.

My beautiful and loving Church, you do not have to find the right words to support us during our times of heightened anxiety and depression. We just need someone to be with us. Someone who is willing to sit with us when our world feels like it is falling apart and pray for us when we cannot bring ourselves to pray. Be not afraid to reach out because you never know who may need someone during their time of need.

Your,
Comforted Daughter

Dear Church, From a Catholic with OCD

Dear Church,

I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And it’s perhaps the biggest thing that has built my faith...and the biggest thing that has attempted to break it.

I first developed symptoms of OCD when I was eight. I was diagnosed as a sophomore in college after having been previously diagnosed with anxiety. When I had heard “OCD” prior to my diagnosis, I had this stereotypical picture of someone who cleaned and organized everything. One look at my room was enough to know that I wasn’t “OCD”. With my “anxiety”, I had intrusive thoughts of wanting to kill myself- thoughts so disturbing, intrusive, and unwanted that I wouldn’t allow myself to sleep on many nights out of fear that I might do something to kill myself in my sleep. I had intrusive thoughts about germs and would wash my hands so much that they would bleed. I had intrusive thoughts about my family dying and, to ensure their safety, had a nightly routine where I would run around my house twice, weigh myself twice, and open & close my windows twice. If I didn’t do this, I was convinced that I would wake up the next morning to my family gone and it would be entirely my fault.

OCD is a complex disorder, but a general overview is that it is a mental health condition categorized by intrusive, distressing and unwanted obsessive thoughts and compulsions to complete irrational actions, in order to relieve the distress from those obsessive thoughts. For some, OCD involves having obsessions about cleanliness and organization, then performing compulsive acts to ensure that everything is “just right”- but this isn’t a fun organizational task like OCD is often portrayed through stereotypes. It’s distressing. For some, these compulsions can take hours and things still may not feel “just right”. Rationally, we might conceptualize the obsession and compulsion and realize that nothing bad will happen if everything isn’t organized or cleaned “just right”. OCD, however, does not operate in a world of rationally, but rather irrationality. While the rational brain might tell us that everything will be okay without being “just right”, the irrationality of OCD tells us that not having everything perfectly organized or cleaned is a recipe for disaster- it becomes distressing.

When I was younger, my OCD came in many forms. I experienced everything from suicidal obsessions to sexuality obsessions to contamination obsessions. My compulsions ranged from tapping surfaces (always in even numbers) to washing my hands constantly. But perhaps one of the most difficult types of OCD for me, which I encountered for the first time in high school, was Religious OCD, often known as scrupulosity. Within the Catholic faith, scrupulosity often takes the form of having obsessions of committing a mortal sin or a sin in general, which becomes distressing due to fear of the consequences associated with this, such as going to Hell. While committing a mortal sin, it may be rational to have a reaction of fear, guilt, or distress. However, for an individual who has scrupulosity, the action they believe to be a sin is often not a sin at all. Or the action they believe is grave enough to be a mortal sin, is in fact venial and less weighty than their assessment. Scrupulous compulsions within the Catholic faith may include seeking reassurance of nature/gravity of the action from a trusted Catholic source and/or going to Confession excessively.

When I learned of mortal sin, I was taught that if you commit one and die before going to Confession, you will go straight to Hell. This, to me, was terrifying. I was taught that God was loving, merciful, and good. I perceived the teaching on mortal sin to not align with the God I knew. How could the God I knew be so cruel that He would send me to Hell for one instance of falling into my broken humanity?

I now have a better understanding of the teaching of mortal sin and how we can remedy this teaching with a God who is loving, merciful and good. But this initial perception of mortal sin and its consequences has shaped my brain and my faith ever since.

Before learning about mortal sin, my faith helped me to stand up to my OCD. For years, I was wrecked with obsessions and compulsions, feeling trapped in my own brain. When I became involved in my youth group in high school, I began to know God. And I began to know His power. I made the most progress in combating my OCD in those years, realizing that no obsession or compulsion was bigger than God. With God by my side, my obsessions became less distressing and the compulsions became less excessive. I began to realize that many of the bad things that I expected to happen due to OCD were irrational- and even if they did happen, they were nothing that God and I couldn’t handle (Brief side-note: At the time, I did not share any of my struggles with OCD with my family out of fear and therefore did not seek psychotherapy- looking back, I wish I had. Relying on God is vital, but God also has given so many people gifts to be good therapists who are equipped to help). 

OCD forced me to have a level of trust in God much greater than any I had ever experienced. OCD built my faith.

But when I became scrupulous, my faith started to break. Confession became a compulsion- I only went out of fear, not love of God or sorrow for my sinfulness. I began to confess my intrusive thoughts, especially the scariest ones, thinking that they were sins even though they weren’t and didn’t need to be confessed. Many times, I would get judgmental looks from the priests when I confessed these, often leaving me feeling as if Christ Himself didn’t love me. This broke me. I began to perceive God as an evil tyrant who ultimately didn’t care about me. This perception caused me to suffer all the more.

Scrupulosity defined my life for years. I made many moral and life decisions out of fear. I followed Church teaching blindly because I thought that if I didn’t, I would go straight to Hell forever. In these integral years, when many of my friends left the Church or stopped practicing, I stayed. And often, I am faced with the reality that if I did not have OCD and, specifically Scrupulosity, I may have left the Church with them.

Two years ago, after a Confession with a priest in which I confessed some pretty distressing intrusive thoughts and received a somewhat harsh response, I began to contemplate leaving the Church. I figured that if I stayed or if I left, I would go to Hell. I began to look at my faith and realized that because of scrupulosity, it had been built on quicksand. I barely had a relationship with God. I was terrified of Him.

Yet, I have stayed. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps out of trust. These past two years have been slow, but I’m learning that the ways scrupulosity has changed my perception of God and His Church does not mean that I don’t belong here. They don’t mean that I don’t love the Church and Her teachings. Within these years, I have often tried to run because I feel as if I am a fraud within the Church. But through work with a therapist and some good, holy priests, I am continually uncovering reasons why this is a lie. Through stripping away the lies, I am slowly rebuilding a relationship with a God who has never stopped loving me and waiting for me to run back into His arms.

To those who have a mental health condition that can make it hard to feel as if you belong in the Church: you belong. Our sufferings are unique but beautiful. Our stories are important to share. By sharing them with others, we give others and ourselves a profound opportunity to embrace the sufferings of Christ, who Himself endured mental sufferings.

And to those within the Church who do not have a mental health condition: please, be gentle with those of us who do. Ask questions when appropriate. Seek to listen. Educate yourself on the ways mental health conditions can impact the relationship an individual may have with the Church and God Himself.

Christ knows our sufferings and He knows our stories. He knows, more so than us, how our experiences, the ways we grow through our sufferings and how our unique stories will foster compassion, strength and beauty within the Church. Everyday, I look forward to learning what He is doing with my experiences and sufferings. I know that He is only just beginning to write the story of my life. And I know that, through its hills and valleys, He will write something beautiful.

In Christ,

A Catholic with OCD

Dear Church, From a Former Wallflower

Dear Church,

My Confirmation preparation was a life-changing experience for me, but it had nothing to do with my prep classes. In fact, I dreaded them, and as soon as I was confirmed, I left the youth programs and never went back.

I should have been an avid youth group member. I loved to learn, especially about the Church. I loved to be in a classroom, and I loved to be with friends in a classroom. The problem was, I had no friends in Confirmation class, and I didn’t know how to make any. In fact, I was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no one in my Confirmation class liked me — that, in fact, they despised or looked down on me — and I knew I could never change their minds.

The truth, which I realized later in life, was that none of my fellow students disliked me. They just didn’t know me, and I didn’t make it easy for them to do so. As a teenager with social anxiety disorder, my default assumption was that other people — particularly other teenagers — didn’t like me and that nothing I did could ever change their minds. I was just fundamentally unlikeable.

Now, as an adult with several years of therapy under my belt, I can see the faulty reasoning there — what my therapist calls the “evidence” that proves my “core belief” incorrect (not the least of which was the unconditional love I received from the parents who sent me to Confirmation class!). But I can also see the faults in the approach to Confirmation prep that allowed a 13-year-old girl with social anxiety disorder to slip through the cracks, to fall in love with the Church because of her accidental discovery of her patron saint, not because of anything the parish did to nurture that love. The faith formation leaders did their best, but they were not equipped to identify and support mental illness in a Confirmation classroom.

Here’s what I wish my parish had known:

• Not every teenage girl is a social butterfly. Some will shrink into the shadows, making every attempt not to be seen by their peers.
  

• An overnight retreat may be terrifying to some students. (That doesn’t necessarily mean you shouldn’t require one, but find ways to make it easier for those students.)
  

• It’s important to find ways to help students meet each other in natural (or as natural as possible) ways rather than allowing them to segment themselves by school or clique.
  

• Catechists should get to know each of their students, especially the quiet ones, and figure out ways to get them involved with their peers and with the lessons.

Ultimately, some Confirmation candidates may slip through the cracks. Some are there because their parents are forcing them to, and some of them are there because they want to but don’t know how to fully engage with the process. Through empathy, compassion, and prayer, we can reach more of them. This former wallflower confirms it.

Love,
The Former Wallflower

Emotions and the Spiritual Life

At twenty years old I had my first experience of a severe depressive episode. It occurred while I was spending six months discerning consecrated life within a community.  The memories of that time still hit me strongly, all the anticipation of this life and following God’s call to give myself to Him, followed by intense loneliness and sadness that nothing could shake.  My formaters were caring, yet confused.  Honestly, I don’t blame them, the suddenness of this overwhelming misery consuming me was shocking to me as well.  I stumbled through those first few months, crying through most of my daily tasks, and completely unsure what was next. The depression eased as time went on, but never left me in those months. As I was discerning what to do next, one of the consecrated women introduced me to a podcast on The Discernment of Spirits that changed my life.  This was my first real introduction to principles of discernment and the contributions to the Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola.  

No one had ever told me my emotional life was relevant to my spiritual life! Hearing the way that St. Ignatius acknowledged his emotions, considered the messages they contained, and decided to act with or against them was revolutionary! His work on discernment of spirits came from his own experiences, Ignatius was an incredibly passionate person in all areas of his life. After his conversion, he reflected on how he saw God working in his own life and others, and this informed his writings.  He acknowledges that the emotions matter, the ups and downs of our emotional life and the way they play into our relationship with God have importance.  “All faithful persons in all walks of life experience some form of these inner spiritual fluctuations: times of energy and desire for the things of God, and other times when that energy and attraction wane” (Gallagher, 2013). 

            The content of discernment of spirits or Ignatian exercises deserves far more exploration than I can do in a short blog post, but I do want to share a few points that have been helpful to me in my understanding of the meeting point between emotions and spirituality:

• The emotional capacity and experience as humans is part of God’s intentional design, and therefore, is good!

• Emotions have importance and deserve attention and care.

• Emotions are neither morally good nor bad, and yet can direct us to actions that are either good or bad.

• Being aware of our emotions can actually help us deepen our relationship with God and see His action in our life more clearly.

• God does not want our misery!

This last point was something that twenty-year-old me had never encountered before.  Reading Ignatius’ work it was clear that the more one followed God, there would be more peace and joy. Not an absence of negative emotions, by any means, but the idea that there would be indicators in one’s emotional life that this was what God wanted. Somehow, I had internalized this idea that God wanted me to be miserable, that joy would only come in Heaven. Once that distortion was revealed, it became immediately clear that my discernment with that community was done, that God wanted joy for me that I hadn’t experienced in those six months. Today, on the feast of St. Ignatius, I am so grateful both for my personal realizations brought about by his writings and overall for the gift St. Ignatius was to the Church! I invite you to think about your own emotional life, do you view it as a good from God? Do your emotions help you draw closer to God? Either way, I invite you to check out the resources below to learn more about St. Ignatius & his writings!

St. Ignatius of Loyola, Pray for us!

The Discernment of Spirits Book (Gallagher, 2013)

The Discernment of Spirits Podcast

St. Ignatius' Autobiography

Preferential Love for those with Mental Illness

What does the Church have to say about mental illness and the field of psychology? The answer is at the same time, very little and oh so much! To my knowledge, there are only three documents from members of the Church hierarchy specifically on the topic (address by JPII to healthcare workers, a reflection from Benedict XVI on world day for the sick, and Hope & Healing by the California Bishops).  As far as what the Church has to say about humans and the subject of their well-being though there is so much! Much of what The Face of Mercy proclaims about the call of the Church to love those struggling with mental illness comes from a few core teachings in the vault of the Faith, most especially from the innate dignity of the human person and the preferential option for the poor.

For the moment, I want to focus on the connection between that preferential option for the poor. This exclusively Christian concept is taken from the example of Jesus’ ministry.  He often chose to spend his time with the most rejected persons in society. He acknowledged children, women, lepers, prostitutes, tax collectors, and beggars, all outcasts of his time. “This love is inspired by the Gospel of the Beatitudes, of the poverty of Jesus, and of his concern for the poor” (CCC, 2444).  The Church, in imitation of Christ, has taken this to heart and expresses that there is a preferential option for the poor, that is, whenever possible, we serve the poor and vulnerable first. The love for Christ inspires us to push against the norm in almost every society, to reach out first to those most in need. This love for the poor is meant to be transformative, one that shifts them from the outskirts of society to a point of prime consideration.  “The last shall become first” (Matthew 20:16).

This love for the poor is often what the world outside of Christianity recognizes as good in our saints, those that are widely known and lauded, like St. Francis of Assisi and St. Teresa of Calcutta. This tradition of love for the poor has been spoken about by Popes and Saints alike:

“Love for widows and orphans, prisoners, and the sick and needy of every kind, is as essential as the ministry of the sacraments and preaching of the Gospel.” Pope Benedict XVI

"When we serve the poor and the sick, we serve Jesus. We must not fail to help our neighbors, because in them we serve Jesus.”  St. Rose of Lima

“Within the community of believers there can never be room for a poverty that denies anyone what is needed for a dignified life.” Deus Caritas Est, Pope Ben. XVI

“It is to those who have the most need of us that we ought to show our love more especially.” St. Francis de Sales

”Love the poor tenderly, regarding them as your masters and yourselves as their servants.”
St. John of God

Some core ideas of the preferential option of the poor are the imitation of Christ in both the people He reached out to and His own poverty.  How does this apply to mental health and illness?

• Jesus did not shy away from suffering or misery. He didn’t become human in a life that was comfortable or anything, but one where he knew the depths of human emotion.

• Jesus met others in their distress: the woman caught in adultery, Mary & Martha after Lazarus’ death, Thomas’ in his doubts, and the lepers whose illness kept them from community.

The Catechism mentions that this love for the poor is meant to include all those who are suffering. It specifically mentions ‘psychological ills’ in the list of human misery that should elicit compassion and mercy.  All forms of poverty and distress are consequences of original sin and a cause not for blame or dismissal, but a genuine movement of the heart to work and care for their good.  In our society, mental illness is a particular area that we can exhibit this preference for the poor, a care that goes beyond what a person can do, to love tenderly those most in need. My hope is that The Face of Mercy can help equip people with practicals of how to put this love into action, caring for Jesus in His distressing disguise of those who are poor in mental health, as well as the Church has historically cared for the poor in many other ways!

Solidarity: Drawing Near Like Jesus

 This blog post has been the hardest piece to write. Putting words to my experience of mental illness is difficult enough itself. Capturing the ways the pandemic and lockdown parallel that internal struggle is even more elusive.  The opportunity we have here, an experience that can help us understand the struggles of those with mental illness, is not one I want to overlook.  Hopefully, we will never have a need for such a complete halt to the ordinary rhythms of life again.  

This experience of lockdown and social distancing is perhaps like nothing our society has experienced before. Like pretty much everyone, I have good days and bad days with it. Days where I wish I was in lockdown alone or not working an essential job so I can be at home. Days where I am grateful to have a loving husband at home and that my job keeps me busy and doesn’t leave me with endless time to worry.  Through it all I have tried to trust that this step is necessary and helpful.

There are many elements of life right now that echo the struggles of those with mental illness.  The isolation. The uncertainty. The general anxiety. The overwhelm in trying to do simple tasks like grocery shopping or daily work. Adjusting to a new “normal” not knowing how long it will last. With one big exception: people with mental illness struggle alone.

Through this experience, there have been limitless opportunities for social connection via zoom, ideas for adapting to working and school at home, initiatives to get meals and groceries to those who need them most. Financial support is in the works for those who cannot work or have lost their jobs.  There are endless spiritual resources, more online talks than one could possibly attend and the option for streamed Masses until we are able to gather again.

Of course, each person’s personal struggles wouldn’t spark the national and even global response that this pandemic has. That isn’t the goal of this parallel at all. But, what an opportunity to grow in understanding and solidarity!

 The goal is simply solidarity. 

The word is used often in our society. As Catholics though, it is an ideal we value particularly.  All of us share a common humanity, despite any differences.  The more one is aware of the value of each life, which is made even more evident by the story of God’s love and salvation, the more we are pulled to unite with the experience of those around us.  We believe in a God who draws close to us. Who sent his Son to walk among us.  I think one of the best stories to learn about how we can walk with those struggling is that of Jesus walking with the disciples at Emmaus. 
 
“Jesus Himself drew near.”

In their grief, in their isolation, in their confusion and high emotions.

“Jesus Himself drew near.”

He ate with them, and brought comfort to them.

“Jesus Himself drew near.” 

As we leave lockdown and our own isolation, let us draw near to those still suffering.

Hope & Healing: A Call to Action

Holy Week is so much about the hope and healing available in Christ. So what better time to share with you some of the highlights on the Church’s latest document on mental health and illness? The letter was written May 2018 by the California Conference of Bishops and, in my opinion, perfectly sums up the stance each and every Catholic should have towards those suffering from mental illness.  In this time of uncertainty, as we experience a global pandemic, we can assume afterwards that among many of the struggles we will face once this part of the crisis is passed, is an increase in mental illness.  This event is traumatic for many, some of us will recover just fine and some will have ongoing anxiety.  The period of social distancing and fear of the Coronavirus is likely to exacerbate current mental illnesses and activate new ones.  The bishops center their message on the truth that all Christians are called to continue the healing ministry of Christ through their actions.  In the Gospel accounts we see Christ demonstrate love for the poor, those excluded from society, the outcasts.  This preferential treatment of the poor and ill that the Church holds dear should extend to those who have mental illness.  The letter is worth reading in its entirety, and you can do that here: https://www.cacatholic.org/hope_and_healing In this space, I will just share some quotes on a few key points, for your reflection. 

Reflection on our own sufferings:

“A psychiatrist recounts the case of a married Catholic woman with several children and grandchildren, who had suffered from both life-threatening breast cancer and from severe depression.  She once told him that, if given the choice, she would choose cancer over the depression, since the depression caused her more intense suffering.  Though she had been cured of cancer, she tragically died by suicide related to her severe depression.”

 Think of the sufferings in your own life: injuries, loss of loved ones, illness, heartbreaks, anxieties, periods of isolation.  Which ones were the most painful? What did others do that was helpful? What would have eased your suffering but wasn’t offered?

Call to Reduce Stigma in the Church:

“Mental illness is neither a moral failure nor a character defect.  To suffer from a psychiatric disorder is not a sign of insufficient faith or weakness of will.  Christian faith and religious practice do not immunize a person against mental illness.”
“We profess that every human life is sacred, that all people are created in the image and likeness of God and, therefore, a person’s dignity and worth cannot be diminished by any condition, including mental illness.  We believe all baptized persons have unique gifts to offer and have a place in the Church, the body of Christ.”

 Who do I view as less than myself?
When I realize that a person has limits on social commitments or their ability to work because of mental illness do I view them differently?
Would I judge those working in the Church differently if I knew they were struggling with mental illness?
How do I internally recognize the sacredness of the people around me? How can I better act on that belief externally?

Call to Action:

“Persons with mental illness often suffer in silence, hidden and unrecognized by others.  Consider this stark contrast: a person with a medical illness, such as cancer, will usually receive an outpouring of sympathy and support from their parish and community; a person diagnosed with a mental illness – such as depression, crippling anxiety, or bipolar disorder – frequently experiences isolation and inadequate support, often because of the unjust social stigma of mental illness.”

“This needs to be a ministry of presence and accompaniment – an ongoing effort to seek out and engage those who suffer wherever they are found.  It is also a work of education and learning – of seeing, hearing and understanding the experiences of those who suffer.” 

How could we put this ‘ministry of presence and accompaniment” in action? I have a few, but far from an exhaustive list, ideas:

• Meal trains when someone is struggling. Making this common practice as a parish without always publicly sharing the reason.

• Sending thinking of you note cards or random texts to friends you know are having a hard time.

• Offer to do specific tasks for them. You might not know what is difficult, but it can be impossible for someone who is depressed or otherwise struggling. Some possibilities to help: grocery shop for them, offer to come do dishes/laundry/tidy, if they have children, offer to entertain the littles so the parent can get alone time, etc.

• Asking if there are steps in their psychological care that are difficult to do alone that you can help with: helping them sort through potential therapists, being with them when they call a provider, driving them to an appointment, etc.

• Letting them know you are there for them, that they are not a burden (do not say this unless you mean it though! Authenticity matters a lot!)

• Offering to “virtually” hang out or come to them if a friend has been flaking on plans a lot. Whether you know if they have a mental illness or not, flaking can often be a sign of overwhelm and/or isolating.

• Let them vent. It can be overwhelming to sit alone with thoughts and feelings shaped by mental illness. Having someone just listen can be a significant relief.

“Just as Christ never abandons anyone, so also the Church never abandons those who suffer from mental illness”

Let our lives make this true. Let us be the faithful ones, the embodiment of merciful love to all those suffering!