A pastor with bipolar disorder finds his identity in Christ.

Two and a half years ago, I sat in the doctor’s office with a funny feeling in my stomach. I had just been diagnosed with bipolar 1 disorder. After the initial reaction passed, there was relief. I hadn’t felt like myself for ten years. I had known that something wasn’t right. Now it had a name. Now I knew what was wrong.

A long journey

My diagnosis was the culmination of a long journey. I remember not feeling like myself in college. I remember dark days when it was hard to focus on anything, let alone get out of bed. It was hard to taste and to see color. It was difficult to hear music. I learned later these were symptoms of depression. I also remember days when I was extremely productive, felt like I was on top of the world, and didn’t need sleep. I learned these were symptoms of mania. So the diagnosis of bipolar disorder gave meaning to what I had experienced. It explained the extreme ups and downs.

Years after college, my counselor recognized the symptoms and told me to go to my doctor to see if I had bipolar disorder. That’s why I sat in the doctor’s office with a mix of emotions. That’s why I now have a diagnosis.

While, overall, things are going much better thanks to taking medication, getting counseling, leaning on friends and family for support, and reading books and articles, there are still times when I begin to question things all over again. In fact, on days when I don’t feel great, I can feel despair seeping into my soul.

And not only that, but I’m also a pastor. Being a pastor is a strenuous job. It means constantly being on call. It means cranking out a sermon every week. It means being placed in situations that challenge your energy and vulnerability. It’s impossible to sugarcoat the job. It’s grueling, to say the least.

On my bad days, I find myself wondering why I have this job. I always knew life was hard, but now I have a diagnosis. “I have bipolar disorder,” I tell myself. It’s easy for the disorder to become my one and only identity. And if I’m bipolar, why do I have a job in which I help others? At times, I have a hard enough time taking care of myself. Why do I put up with all the difficulties associated with the job? The stress is enough for a “normal” person. So why not just quit and do something else? I wrestle with thoughts like these.

A lightbulb moment

While I was writing a sermon, I realized something that changed my perspective. In the assigned text, Jesus was talking about how he is the true vine and we are the branches (John 15:1-8). He explained that the branches need “pruning.” This pruning can consist of stripping away our self-reliance through the hardships and difficulties God allows into our lives. The result of this pruning is that we hold on more firmly to Jesus. Ultimately, the pruning is done out of love, and the end result is that our faith is strengthened.

This was a lightbulb moment. I finally realized that while I don’t understand why I’m bipolar, God is using this disorder in my life to prune me. This disorder makes me strong because it causes me to hold on more firmly to Jesus. It’s just as the apostle Paul said: “When I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). That is the best position to be in when serving as a pastor. The weaker I am, the more firmly I hold on to Jesus, who is my life and salvation. The end result is that I can minister more effectively to those under my care and those who struggle with their mental health. It’s a paradox. In a way, it doesn’t make sense, but it’s true.

And so my encouragement to you, dear reader, is to think about any weakness you may have as something that gives you strength. Struggles aren’t bad. Struggles can give us a strong empathy for others. Struggles can cause us to look to Jesus for strength and hope. I know he has given me strength in my difficult times.

Continued changes

So much has changed since I have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and it has all been for the better. The medicine has worked wonders, and I can function better than those days back in college and the ones leading up to my diagnosis.

Navigating the disorder has brought me into a closer relationship not only with God but also with my wife. She has been my constant support through the highs and the lows. I’ve learned that it’s best to be honest with her about how I’m feeling. That helps us get through the tough times together.

I also now have a support system beyond my wife that consists of wonderful Christian family and friends to rely on when things are difficult. I know they are there for me, and they will listen when I need to talk.

I still have bad days. I still question if my job is right for me. But at the heart of it all, I remember these words: “When I am weak, then I am strong.” So now asking myself “Why do I have bipolar disorder?” no longer brings the confusing swirl of emotions. I have been through a process of learning, and I have changed. Bipolar disorder is now no longer my one and only identity. Instead, my identity is firmly rooted in Christ.

Author: Samuel Johnson
Volume 112, Number 05
Issue: May 2025

How you can help

Samuel Johnson shares his thoughts on how you can help support someone struggling with bipolar disorder.

• Recognize that just because someone has a mental health diagnosis doesn’t mean that he or she is not functional. You may be surprised at how many “normal” people in your life have bipolar disorder. My psychiatrist tells me, after all, that we make up 1 percent of the population.
• Acknowledge that bipolar disorder is a real disorder and not something that is made up. I used to think that mental health problems weren’t real, so I understand how some people think that. But the fact is that bipolar disorder is recognized by trained professionals, both doctors and counselors alike.
• Don’t react strongly to someone who’s bipolar and automatically assume that he or she is having a drastic mood swing. We have normal ups and downs just like other people. Feeling sad or happy does not mean that we’re depressed or manic.
• Listen and have a curious attitude. I don’t expect everyone to know what it’s like to be bipolar, but by actively listening and asking questions, you can help more than you can even imagine.