How do you deal with the sense of uselessness that often accompanies anxiety and depression?

When anxiety and depression hit, the sense of uselessness can feel like a fact, but I have learned it is often a feeling that argues like a verdict, not the truth of who God says we are. Scripture meets us right there: “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God” (Psalm 42:11; Psalm 43:5). That is not denial; that is honesty and direction. When my mind starts telling me, “You have nothing to offer,” I have to answer with what God says: “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit” (Psalm 34:17–18). God does not step away from us in weakness; He draws near. He is “our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1), and even if we are walking through “the valley of the shadow of death,” we are not alone: “For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). 

I have to say this plainly because I have lived it: much of my anxiety and depression has been tied to a sense of uselessness, especially as a man who spent most of his working life in construction. If I was not building something, fixing something, leading a crew, or contributing in a tangible way, I felt like I had no value. Now that I am nearing 60 and semi-retired because of a work injury, those old thoughts can still try to come back. Yet, looking back, the Lord used seasons of waiting to reshape me. One of the first times I was unexpectedly out of work was right when my wife and I had our first child. Work slowed down, my wife was close to delivery, and I was home. Her income carried us, and I got to be present for that first year of our child’s life. I will never get that time back, and it taught me something I needed: our worth is not measured only by a paycheck or productivity. The Lord was teaching me how to rest, be present, and receive rather than strive. Over the years, even when depression set in because I could not work, those trials tested my faith and formed me. Scripture says, “Therefore we do not lose heart… yet the inward man is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16), and I have watched God do that renewal slowly, faithfully, repeatedly. 

So how do we deal with uselessness when anxiety and depression are loud? We start by doing what God tells us to do with the weight. “Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you” (Psalm 55:22). “Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7). That is not a cliché; it is a command and a promise. And the pathway is given to us: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God… will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6–7). When my thoughts are spinning, I stop trying to out-think them and start bringing them to God, specifically through prayer, petition, and thanksgiving, because God’s peace is described as a guard over our minds and hearts. 

Next, I remind myself that God’s view of “useful” is not the world’s view of “useful.” God does not only value the strong days, but He also reveals His strength through the weak days: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness… For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9–10). That verse has carried me in seasons when I felt I had nothing left. God does not wait until I am “better” to be present; He meets me in my weakness and puts His power on display. He tells me, “Fear not, for I am with you… I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10). And He reminds me, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5–6; Deuteronomy 31:8; Joshua 1:9). When depression whispers abandonment, God answers with covenant. 

Then I anchor my identity where Scripture anchors it: not in mood or output, but in God’s design and calling. “For You formed my inward parts… I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13–14). And this is crucial when the word useless shows up: “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:10). If I am God’s workmanship, my life is not an accident, and my season is not wasted. Even my limitations do not cancel His purpose. In fact, Scripture teaches that we are not meant to function alone: the body has many members, and “those members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary” (1 Corinthians 12:12–27). When I feel “less than,” God calls that kind of member necessary. And when I wonder what I can still contribute, Scripture tells me we each have grace-gifts to use, according to what God has given (Romans 12:4–8), and that we minister to one another “as good stewards of the manifold grace of God… with the ability which God supplies” (1 Peter 4:10–11). Even if all I can do today is encourage one person, pray for one person, write one truth, or show one act of mercy, God counts that. 

I also cannot ignore what I know about my own story. I was abused as a child, a ward of the state, in foster care, and in adoption, and I carry the scars of that. But I also carry this conviction: the writing I do today, the counseling tone I speak with, the compassion I can offer to others who are anxious and depressed, flows directly from what I survived. That does not mean abuse is good; it means God is faithful to redeem pain into ministry. He is the One who “heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3), and He gives a future that pain could not cancel: “thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). When I look at my life and realize I am still here, when I know there were seasons I should not have survived, I cannot avoid the conclusion that God has had His hand on me, carrying me, protecting me, and preparing me. And that is why I can say to someone else, with sincerity: If God kept me, He can keep you. Nothing, no depression, no fear, no darkness, can separate us from His love: “neither death nor life… nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39). 

So here is what I would tell us, in the simplest terms, when uselessness is pressing in: 

1. Come to Christ with the weight, not after you “fix” the weight. “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28–30). 
2. Put the burden where Scripture tells us to put it. “Cast your burden on the Lord…” (Psalm 55:22); “casting all your care upon Him” (1 Peter 5:7). 
3. Let prayer plus thanksgiving interrupt the spiral. “Be anxious for nothing… with thanksgiving… and the peace of God… will guard your hearts and minds” (Philippians 4:6–7). 
4. Refuse to measure your worth by output. God calls us His workmanship (Ephesians 2:10), and He says the “weaker” members are necessary (1 Corinthians 12:22). 
5. Wait without shame. “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31). Even waiting can be obedience, and waiting is not worthless in God’s economy. 

And when all I can do is whisper it, I come back to this: “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed… They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23). Anxiety and depression can make today feel like a dead end, but the Word of God calls it a night that can pass: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). So, we take heart. We keep pressing on. And we let the Lord define our value, our calling, and our future, one day at a time.  

How important is it to adjust expectations in marriage when partners aren't as expected initially?

It is very important to adjust our expectations in marriage, because marriage is not built on the fantasy of who we thought the other person would be, but on the covenant reality of learning how to love, receive, and walk with the person God has joined to us. Scripture says, “with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love” (Ephesians 4:2), and again, “put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another” (Colossians 3:12–14). That means from the beginning, we must understand that frustration often grows where unspoken expectations grow. When our spouse does not meet what we imagined, whether those expectations were reasonable or not, disappointment can quickly turn into irritation, bitterness, or contention. That is why premarital counseling, honest dating conversations, and simply spending time getting to know one another matter so much. They help bring our hopes, dreams, desires, goals, fears, past hurts, pain, and suffering into the light. In other words, they help us see not only the other person more clearly, but also ourselves more honestly. Youthful exuberance often does not yet know its own heart very well, and life has a way of revealing what we did not know was in us. So wisdom says, “Without counsel, plans go awry, but in the multitude of counselors they are established” (Proverbs 15:22). 

Marriage, according to Scripture, is not casual companionship but covenant union: “a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:24; Matthew 19:4–6). Because that union is real, adjustment is not optional; it is part of becoming one. We do not enter marriage merely asking, How do I get my expectations met? We must ask, How do we learn to love one another truthfully, patiently, and sacrificially? First Corinthians 13:4–7 tells us that love “suffers long and is kind… does not seek its own… is not provoked… bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” That kind of love is not sustained by rigid expectations, but by grace, humility, and endurance. Scripture tells us to be “swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath” (James 1:19), to let “a soft answer” turn away wrath (Proverbs 15:1), and to be “kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another” (Ephesians 4:32). So yes, when partners are not as expected initially, it is not merely important but necessary to adjust expectations, because marriage is not the discovery of a flawless spouse, but the lifelong call to dwell “with understanding” (1 Peter 3:7), to submit to one another in the fear of God (Ephesians 5:21), and to receive one another as Christ has received us (Romans 15:7). 

This is precisely why premarital counseling is such a gift. It gives us a safe place to surface the very things that, if left unspoken, later become hidden disappointments: views on work, family, money, affection, children, roles, conflict, faith, sex, communication, pain from the past, and dreams for the future. Counseling helps expose the expectations we carry into marriage, and many of us do not even know we have them until someone asks us the right questions. It teaches us that “Can two walk together, unless they are agreed?” (Amos 3:3). It also helps us see whether we are truly prepared to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), comfort and edify one another (1 Thessalonians 5:11), and seek not only our own interests, but also the interests of the other (Philippians 2:3–4; 1 Corinthians 10:24). Premarital counseling does not guarantee there will be no surprises, but it greatly reduces the chance that we will be completely blindsided, because it trains us to listen, confess, pray, and grow together. “Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). That is not only good counsel for marriage after the wedding; it is wise preparation before it. 

At the same time, Scripture is realistic. “If you do marry… such will have trouble in the flesh” (1 Corinthians 7:28). Marriage is honorable (Hebrews 13:4), beautiful, and good, but it is still lived out by sinners in a fallen world. That means there will be misunderstandings, disappointments, pressure, and seasons of stretching. But trouble does not mean failure. Often, it is through tribulation that God deepens patience, character, and hope (Romans 5:3–5; James 1:2–4). In those moments, the answer is not to harden ourselves, but to return to the posture of biblical love: “And above all things have fervent love for one another, for ‘love will cover a multitude of sins’” (1 Peter 4:8). We are to stop contention before a quarrel starts (Proverbs 17:14), not let the sun go down on our wrath (Ephesians 4:26–27), and remember that “by pride comes nothing but strife, but with the well-advised is wisdom” (Proverbs 13:10). The wise husband and wife learn that contentment, patience, and mutual honor are not signs that expectations disappeared, but signs that love matured. 

So I would answer the question this way: it is crucial to adjust expectations in marriage when our spouse is not exactly as we first imagined, because marriage is not sustained by idealized assumptions but by truth, humility, forgiveness, understanding, and covenant love. Dating, long conversations, and especially premarital counseling are part of God’s kindness to help us bring hidden expectations into the open before they become future frustrations. Through that process, we learn that a strong marriage is built “through wisdom” and established “by understanding” (Proverbs 24:3–4), and that when we trust in the Lord rather than lean only on our own understanding, “He shall direct [our] paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6). In the end, it is not perfection that makes a marriage last, but grace-filled love, a teachable spirit, and a threefold cord in which husband, wife, and the Lord are held together (Ecclesiastes 4:12).

Is faith the excuse given by Christians when they don't have evidence for an argument?

No, faith is not the excuse Christians give when they lack evidence; biblically understood, faith is trust grounded in what God has revealed, testified, and confirmed. Hebrews 11:1 says, “faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” not the denial of evidence. Scripture repeatedly presents faith as arising from witness, testimony, reason, and proof. Luke wrote “an orderly account” so that Theophilus might “know the certainty” of what he had been taught (Luke 1:1–4). Paul said that Christ’s resurrection was witnessed by Cephas, the twelve, more than five hundred brethren at once, James, all the apostles, and then by Paul himself (1 Cor. 15:3–8). Acts 1:3 says Jesus presented Himself alive after His suffering “by many infallible proofs.” Christianity, then, does not ask us to believe in a vacuum. It calls us to believe on the basis of God’s self-disclosure in history, in creation, in prophecy, and supremely in Christ. 

From a Christian perspective, faith, reason, and logic work together because they are grounded in evidence. I would summarize that evidence as Historical, Archaeological, Prophetic, and Statistical—H.A.P.S. Historical, because the gospel is rooted in real events, real witnesses, and public testimony: “this thing was not done in a corner” (Acts 26:25–26). Archaeological, because the God of Scripture acts in the real world, among real nations, rulers, cities, and peoples, not in myth or fable; Scripture consistently locates its claims in history and place, and Peter says, “we did not follow cunningly devised fables” (2 Pet. 1:16). Prophetic, because God Himself invites examination on the basis of fulfilled prediction: “Show the things that are to come hereafter, that we may know that you are gods” (Isa. 41:21–23), and Deuteronomy 18:21–22 gives a test for whether a word is truly from God. Then Statistical, not as something replacing the first three, but as the concluding summary probability that the combined historical record, the real-world grounding, and the prophetic fulfillment are not random accidents, but together point to the truthfulness and divine origin of Scripture. In that sense, H.A.P.S. is simply a way of saying that the cumulative case matters. 

This is why the Bible does not discourage reasoning. God says, “Come now, and let us reason together” (Isa. 1:18). Paul “reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and demonstrating that the Christ had to suffer and rise again from the dead” (Acts 17:2–3). The Bereans were called “fair-minded” because they “searched the Scriptures daily to find out whether these things were so” (Acts 17:11). We are told, “Test all things; hold fast what is good” (1 Thess. 5:21), and “do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits” (1 John 4:1). A Christian, then, should not fear examination. In fact, Scripture calls us to it. We are to “be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks us a reason for the hope within us (1 Pet. 3:15). That means our faith is not irrational. It is faith seeking understanding, faith resting on truth, and faith responding to the God who has made Himself known. 

At the same time, the Bible is honest that evidence alone does not automatically produce belief. Jesus did “many signs,” and yet many still did not believe (John 12:37). Israel saw God’s works in Egypt and in the wilderness, yet still hardened their hearts (Num. 14:11; Deut. 29:2–4; Ps. 95:8–9; Heb. 3:7–9). Jesus said, “If I do not do the works of My Father, do not believe Me; but if I do, though you do not believe Me, believe the works” (John 10:37–38). In other words, He appealed to evidence. Yet He also showed that unbelief is not always an evidence problem; often it is a heart problem. John 6:36 says, “You have seen Me and yet do not believe.” Luke 16:31 says that if people “do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead.” So the issue is not that Christians have no evidence. The issue is that evidence must be rightly received, and sinful humanity can resist even strong evidence. 

That is why faith is more than bare intellectual agreement. James says even demons believe, and tremble (James 2:19). Biblical faith includes trust, surrender, and walking in the truth God has made known. “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” (Rom. 10:17). “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor. 5:7), which does not mean against reason, but beyond what mere sight alone can grasp. Thomas was shown evidence, yet Jesus also blessed “those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29–31). That is not a rebuke of evidence; it is a recognition that later believers would rest on credible apostolic testimony, written witness, and the Spirit’s inward confirmation. As Scripture says, “these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God” (John 20:31), and “The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit” (Rom. 8:16). 

So if I were to answer the question plainly, I would say this: No, faith is not an excuse for the absence of evidence; it is the right response to the evidence God has given. Creation itself declares Him (Ps. 19:1; Rom. 1:20). Christ’s works bore witness to Him (John 5:36; John 14:11; Acts 2:22). His resurrection was publicly attested and eyewitnessed (Acts 1:3; 1 Cor. 15:3–8). Scripture invites testing, reasoning, searching, and proving (Acts 17:11; 1 Thess. 5:21; Prov. 14:15; Prov. 25:2). And the prophetic word is confirmed (2 Pet. 1:19). To the Christian, faith is not a leap into darkness. It is trust in the light of God’s revealed truth. It is not the abandonment of logic, but the submission of logic to reality as God has made it known. And when Historical, Archaeological, and Prophetic evidence are honestly considered together, their cumulative or statistical force does not weaken Scripture’s claim; it strengthens the conclusion that “the entirety of Your word is truth” (Ps. 119:160).