Both are good
Faith that endures.
Mosiah 24:14–15
Help that heals.
Luke 5:31
Read the moment
She has done all the things. She prays in the morning and at night. She reads her scriptures most days. She holds her calling. She takes the sacrament. And for six months — maybe longer — she has woken up tired in a way sleep doesn't fix. Her chest feels tight on Sunday before church. She cries at small things and feels nothing at big ones. The voice in her head says: if you had real faith, this wouldn't be happening. You must be doing something wrong. God is withdrawing because you're slipping. She is not slipping. She is sick. The body she lives in has chemistry, and the chemistry is off, and no amount of additional scripture study is going to correct it any more than additional scripture study would correct a thyroid. What she needs is the same thing Elijah needed: food, sleep, water, gentleness, and someone who says yes, this is real, and yes, you are still loved, and yes, the doctor is part of God's plan for you. If she had a kidney infection, she would go to the doctor on day three and not feel guilty about it. The same compassion is owed her brain, her nervous system, her grief. Heaven is not embarrassed by mental illness. The shame is not from God.
"Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed."
— Elder Jeffrey R. Holland (October 2013)
God's Example
Christ in Gethsemane was not a failure of faith.
The most spiritually perfect being who ever lived walked into a garden and "began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy" (Mark 14:33). He fell on His face. He asked the Father — three times — for the cup to pass. He sweat blood. He said "my soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." If feeling that depth of suffering meant unworthiness, the Atonement could not have happened. The capacity to feel sorrow that intense was required — not condemned. Christ's anguish was not the absence of God; it was the moment God walked closest. "And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him" (Luke 22:43). Heaven sent help. He took the help. The taking did not invalidate the prayer.
Mark 14:33–36; Luke 22:43–44
Bridle it: right time, right place, right person, right reason.
God doesn't approve of either extreme
This is not an excuse. God wants both — faith that holds and the wisdom to use the help He has placed on the earth. Bridle this.
Using illness to disengage permanently from covenant practice
Using mental illness as a reason to disengage permanently from covenant practice — "I'm too anxious to ever go to church again, so I won't, ever" — short-circuits the very community designed to carry you. Therapy is not a replacement for the sacrament; the sacrament is not a replacement for therapy. The bridle: scale honestly in a season of acute illness, return to the practice as the body is able. The trap is forgetting that the season ends.
"Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ."
— Galatians 6:2
Refusing to acknowledge the illness
Refuse to acknowledge it? You will become more religious in your performance and more empty in your soul, and eventually one will give way. The bishop who white-knuckles his depression because "a bishop should be okay," the mother who has not slept in weeks and refuses help — every one of them is making the wound worse by refusing to name it. Naming it is not weakness. Naming it is the first act of stewardship over a body God gave you.
"And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him."
— Luke 22:43
Take the bread. Take the water. Adjust. Come back.