Being a Christian does not make you immune to depression, hopelessness, and suicide. At 21 years of age, I was so depressed and desperate for a way out that I found myself crouched on the couch, my white-knuckled hand holding a gun to my head. By God’s grace, my roommate happened to come early from work that day, and I put down my weapon when I heard his car pull up. Several weeks would go by before I finally talked to my roommate about my depression, and what his early arrival that day circumvented.
Friends, my story is not an uncommon one.