I’ll never forget the day it hit me.
I was lying in a hospital bed after my last suicidal episode, staring up at a ceiling that felt way too bright and way too quiet at the same time. My body was there, but my mind was exhausted. My soul felt worn out. I remember looking up and asking God—almost like a whisper, almost like a cry:
“Am I ever going to get better?”
Not a fancy prayer. Not polished. Not church-sounding. Just raw honesty.
And if I’m being real, in that moment I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t feel faithful. I didn’t feel hopeful. I felt like I had reached the end of myself.
But looking back now, I can see something I couldn’t see then: God was still there. Even in the hospital. Even in my lowest moment. Even when all I could do was stare at a ceiling and breathe.
When You’re Tired of Surviving
There’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix. It’s the tired that comes from carrying pain for too long. The tired that comes from fighting your own thoughts. The tired that comes from feeling like you’re a burden, like you’re broken, like peace is something other people get—but not you.
And that’s where I was.
But something happened in that bed. It wasn’t a lightning bolt moment. It wasn’t an instant miracle where everything suddenly felt okay. It was more like a quiet realization that started to form in my heart:
Maybe I don’t have to live like this forever.
Maybe God didn’t create me just to suffer.
Maybe peace is something I’m allowed to want.
God Didn’t Bring Me This Far to Leave Me Here
I’ve learned that the enemy loves to whisper lies when we’re at our weakest—lies like:
- “You’ll never change.”
- “You’ll always be like this.”
- “You’ve messed up too much.”
- “You don’t deserve joy.”
- “You don’t deserve peace.”
And when you’re struggling with depression, PTSD, addiction, or mental health battles, those lies can feel believable. They can feel like truth. But God’s Word doesn’t line up with that.
The Bible calls God near to the brokenhearted. Not annoyed by them. Not distant from them. Near.
The Day I Chose to Reach for Help Again
That hospital bed wasn’t the end of my story. It was a turning point.
Because when I got out of that place, I made a decision. I didn’t want to just survive anymore. I wanted to heal. I wanted to fight for my life the way I used to fight against it.
So I reached out for more help.
- I got serious about medication.
- I got serious about therapy.
- I got serious about support.
And I thank God for the people He put in my life—especially my mother. When I didn’t have strength, she showed up. When I felt lost, she helped keep me grounded. When I couldn’t see a future, she reminded me that I still had one.
I truly believe that was God working through her—God providing love in a way I could actually feel and hold onto in real life.
Faith Doesn’t Mean You Ignore Treatment
One thing I’ve learned, and I’ll say it plainly: faith and treatment can work together.
Prayer is powerful. Scripture is powerful. Church family is powerful. But I also believe God can work through doctors, therapy, medication, and support systems.
Sometimes the miracle isn’t instant healing. Sometimes the miracle is the courage to ask for help, the right therapist, the right medication plan, the strength to show up again, the support of a parent, and the slow rebuilding of a life you didn’t think you’d have. That’s still God.
Peace Is Not a Reward for Perfect People
Here’s something I needed to learn: peace isn’t something you earn by being perfect.
Peace is part of what God wants for His children. And when I say “peace,” I don’t mean a life with no problems. I mean that steady, anchored feeling that even when life is hard, you’re not alone. You’re not abandoned. You’re not hopeless.
I used to think I didn’t deserve peace because of my past, because of my mistakes, or because of what I’d been through. But God doesn’t love us based on performance. God loves us because He’s God. And He’s a Father who doesn’t want His child living in constant torment.
What Peace Looks Like for Me Now
Peace for me isn’t always a perfect day. Sometimes peace looks like:
- taking my medication like I’m supposed to,
- showing up to therapy even when I don’t feel like it,
- being honest about what I’m struggling with,
- asking for support instead of isolating,
- praying even if it’s only a few words,
- and reminding myself that my life still has value.
Some days are still tough. Healing takes time. But I can honestly say this: I’m not where I used to be.
And the more I keep going, the more I realize peace isn’t just possible… it’s something God has been trying to lead me toward all along.
If You’re Reading This From Your Own “Ceiling” Moment…
Maybe you’re not in a hospital bed, but you’re staring at your own ceiling at night—fighting thoughts, feeling alone, wondering if you’ll ever get better.
I want to tell you something I wish someone would’ve told me back then:
You’re not weak for struggling.
You’re not a lost cause.
And you are not beyond God’s reach.
If you can’t do anything else today, do one thing: reach out. Call someone you trust. Talk to a professional. Tell your doctor. Tell your therapist. Tell a family member. Ask for help. Keep asking until you get the support you need.
Because choosing help is not giving up. Choosing help is choosing life.
A Simple Prayer
Lord,
When I feel overwhelmed, remind me that You are near.
When I feel like I don’t deserve peace, remind me who I am in You.
Give me strength to reach out, to keep going, and to trust the process of healing.
Thank You for the people You place in my life to support me—especially my mother.
Help me believe that peace is possible—and that it’s something You want for me.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Josh Bridges
YOU {R} NOT ALONE YOU HAVE A VOICE! 