Check out this story by Craig Groeschel. He writes, "Years ago I met with a guy from our church I’ll call Danny. And several minutes into our conversation I could tell that he battled with a deep and dangerous depression."
Trying to discern the severity of his depression, I gently asked if he ever thought about taking his own life. I wasn’t surprised when he said that he thought about it all the time. For the next twenty minutes or so, Danny told me all the reasons that he had nothing to live for. Toxic self-talk flowed like sewage through a busted dam. “I’m not good at anything. No one loves me. I’ll never get married. I’m a total failure.” On and on he lamented.
As a young pastor, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I prayed quickly in my mind asking God for wisdom and direction. I believe God prompted me to do something that I’ve never done before or since. I grabbed a notepad and told Danny, “You’re going to give me a hundred reasons you have to live.”
He stared blankly at me as I wrote numbers, quickly making a hundred slots ready for Danny’s one hundred reasons to live. So I asked him, “What’s the first reason?” Danny reiterated his hopeless stance to me, “I told you, I don’t have any reasons to live.” Not backing down, I pressed him. “Tell me something that you are good at. Anything. Just tell me one thing.” Danny conceded and said emotionlessly, “Okay. I’m a pretty good writer.” And he was. Danny wrote newsletters for his college and unquestionably had writing talent.
“There you go,” I said as confidently as I could, “Number one: you are a good writer.” “Give me number two,” I continued. Danny hesitated again. “I told you,” he started as I interrupted him. “Number two?” I asked, not taking no for an answer. “I’m funny,” Danny said without cracking a smile. “People tell me I’m funny.” And he was a funny guy, with a seriously dry and witty sense of humor. So I wrote down and said aloud for effect, “Number two. You are a funny guy.
Number three?” I asked, not letting up. “I look a lot like Robert Redford,” Danny said, looking as serious as he could be. Now, I don’t want to undermine everything I’ve written in this chapter by saying something negative, but Robert Redford he was not! So I simply wrote down, while reading it slowly, “You … are … very … funny.” He finally showed a hint of a smile. A small breakthrough.
“Number four,” I said, trying to keep the ball rolling. Before long, Danny started getting into the exercise. Evidently he did have many reasons to live that he was oblivious to moments earlier. Within a few minutes, I was filling in blanks as fast as I could write. Once Danny worked past his negative self-talk, he actually did see lots of positive traits about himself. He had a sister who looked up to him. He had a small group of people he prayed for daily. He served Thanksgiving dinner each year to the homeless. He sponsored a Compassion International child in Chile.
One by one, we plowed through 100 specific and different reasons why Danny should live. At the end of our time together, Danny seemed genuinely touched. I recommended a trained counselor that he agreed to see. Then I prayed for Danny and gave him his list of reasons to live.
Several months later, Danny moved to another town and I lost track of him. You can only imagine how shocked I was a dozen years or so later to see him walk up to me after church to introduce his wife and son. He tried to thank me for our time together but couldn’t get his words out because of his tears. I’ll never forget the moment when Danny reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and presented to me a tattered sheet of paper with a hundred reasons why he should live. He’d carried it with him all these years as a reminder.
He handed me the sheet and said, “I don’t need this anymore. God has written hundreds of more reasons on my heart.”
As a young pastor, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I prayed quickly in my mind asking God for wisdom and direction. I believe God prompted me to do something that I’ve never done before or since. I grabbed a notepad and told Danny, “You’re going to give me a hundred reasons you have to live.”
He stared blankly at me as I wrote numbers, quickly making a hundred slots ready for Danny’s one hundred reasons to live. So I asked him, “What’s the first reason?” Danny reiterated his hopeless stance to me, “I told you, I don’t have any reasons to live.” Not backing down, I pressed him. “Tell me something that you are good at. Anything. Just tell me one thing.” Danny conceded and said emotionlessly, “Okay. I’m a pretty good writer.” And he was. Danny wrote newsletters for his college and unquestionably had writing talent.
“There you go,” I said as confidently as I could, “Number one: you are a good writer.” “Give me number two,” I continued. Danny hesitated again. “I told you,” he started as I interrupted him. “Number two?” I asked, not taking no for an answer. “I’m funny,” Danny said without cracking a smile. “People tell me I’m funny.” And he was a funny guy, with a seriously dry and witty sense of humor. So I wrote down and said aloud for effect, “Number two. You are a funny guy.
Number three?” I asked, not letting up. “I look a lot like Robert Redford,” Danny said, looking as serious as he could be. Now, I don’t want to undermine everything I’ve written in this chapter by saying something negative, but Robert Redford he was not! So I simply wrote down, while reading it slowly, “You … are … very … funny.” He finally showed a hint of a smile. A small breakthrough.
“Number four,” I said, trying to keep the ball rolling. Before long, Danny started getting into the exercise. Evidently he did have many reasons to live that he was oblivious to moments earlier. Within a few minutes, I was filling in blanks as fast as I could write. Once Danny worked past his negative self-talk, he actually did see lots of positive traits about himself. He had a sister who looked up to him. He had a small group of people he prayed for daily. He served Thanksgiving dinner each year to the homeless. He sponsored a Compassion International child in Chile.
One by one, we plowed through 100 specific and different reasons why Danny should live. At the end of our time together, Danny seemed genuinely touched. I recommended a trained counselor that he agreed to see. Then I prayed for Danny and gave him his list of reasons to live.
Several months later, Danny moved to another town and I lost track of him. You can only imagine how shocked I was a dozen years or so later to see him walk up to me after church to introduce his wife and son. He tried to thank me for our time together but couldn’t get his words out because of his tears. I’ll never forget the moment when Danny reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and presented to me a tattered sheet of paper with a hundred reasons why he should live. He’d carried it with him all these years as a reminder.
He handed me the sheet and said, “I don’t need this anymore. God has written hundreds of more reasons on my heart.”
This is fantastic! Thank you for sharing :-) Especially that last part... "God has written hundreds more reasons on my heart."
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