When My Thoughts Lie to Me

Written by Erin Mount, USA

When I was regularly going to therapy, the very first question my therapist would ask me was some variation of “How was your week?”

One time, however, she asked me a question that caught me off guard: “What is something good that happened this week?”

I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me far longer to come up with something than it should have (and then what I did come up with is the fact that I was changing medications for what seemed like the 800th time). I was not prepared to immediately think of something positive, and when I looked at my life, positive things were not evident.

If I’m honest, I’m prone to think negatively about my life, whether I’m depressed or not. Had my therapist asked me to name the worst thing that happened that week, I could have responded quickly, and with a number of things. But when my therapist broached her question that day, all I could see was that the brief respite from depression I had experienced seemed to be over, and I found myself treading in deep waters of sorrow once again.

When my inner world was so gray and cloudy, was it any wonder that I perceived everything around me through the same dark lens? Was it any wonder that, a few months before this when my therapist tasked me with making a list of 100 good things in my life, it took me almost a month to do so?

I wanted to find a better way to live, a better way to think. And I found that better way in Scripture. Paul, in Philippians 4, encourages believers to fix their minds on certain things, recognizing that what the mind fixates on, it believes. He says in verses 8 and 9:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”

Notice what it says in the last part of this passage: “the God of peace will be with you.” Paul isn’t just promising that we will have peace when we focus on things that are true and noble and lovely, etc.; he promises that we will have the truest and most noble and lovely thing of all: God Himself. When we train our minds to think on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy, we shouldn’t be surprised when the object of our thoughts becomes the One who exhibits all of these traits with perfection.

The more I turn my thoughts to Christ, the greater my love for Him, and the smaller my problems seem. If the room in my brain is filled with thoughts of God, that leaves a lot less room for thoughts of myself.

Am I saying I can think away my depression? How I wish it were so! But what it does mean is that I have control over my thoughts. I can take my thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ (see 2 Corinthians 10:5)

Just because I think something doesn’t mean I have to keep thinking it. If I’m honest, I am often tempted to spend more time wallowing in my misery than taking my thoughts captive. And when I don’t take them captive, my thoughts don’t turn naturally to positive things; instead they turn to lies and despair, my old familiar companions. If I want to change the narrative in my head, I need a new script.

When I was at Timberline Knolls, a residential treatment facility for depression, I went to a few group therapy sessions that were specifically designed for Christians. One particular group talked about using Scripture, worship music, and journal writing as ways to cope with our difficult life circumstances.

One day during this group, we were instructed to list lies we believed about ourselves. Well, this should be easy, I thought to myself, and it was. I was able to easily identify a long list of lies I frequently tell myself. Even knowing they were lies apparently didn’t stop me from repeating them to myself over and over as if they were the truth.

Here are some of the lies I wrote down:

I am unlovable.

I have to earn God’s love.

Being needy is a weakness.

My depression is impossible to overcome.

I can’t be at peace.

Things will never get better.

Of course, the therapist didn’t have us stop with identifying lies. She then instructed us to come up with truths to counter the lies. This took considerably longer than coming up with the lies, but when I realized that I could turn the lies on their head, it was easier.

Here are some of the truths I wrote down:

I am loved with an everlasting love (Jeremiah 31:3) that will never separate me from God (Romans 8:38-39). I am called and chosen and valued by God (Isaiah 43:1).

I can do nothing to earn God’s love and grace. It is a free gift (Ephesians 2:4-9).

Christ’s power is at work in my need and weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

With God all things are possible (Matthew 19:26), and in Him I am more than a conqueror (Romans 8:37).

Christ is my peace (Ephesians 2:14).

My pain is temporary and will one day be replaced by eternal glory (2 Corinthians 4:17).

When my mind is prone to believing the lies that come often and without warning, I need the truths of Scripture more than ever. And I cannot believe what I do not know, which is why regular Bible intake is so crucial. I need to be reminded daily of the unchanging character of God, especially when there are so many circumstances all around me to distract me from His love and faithfulness.

The truth about gratitude is that so often it, like love, is a choice.

Even when I may not feel grateful, even if my thoughts tell me my life is not worth living, I can choose to drown out the lies with the truth and give thanks for the blessings God has given me. I can seek the Lord and ask Him to help me be grateful and give thanks that He hears me and loves me, even at my lowest.

Erin Mount is a lover of God who writes about faith, suffering, and mental health. If she’s not spending time with her family, watching Gilmore Girls, or reading, she’s probably napping. This post was originally published on Erin’s blog and is shared here with her permission. You can read more of Erin’s writing on her Substack here.