Why We Need More Honest Christian Music

and how I finally heard my story in a song

Sometimes the algorithms actually bring you good things.

At least, in this case, they brought me Chris Renzema’s song “God & Prozac” through the wonder of Spotify recommendations.

I was initially intrigued by the title, because, I mean, it’s an intriguing title. But then I listened to the song and heard parts of my own story for the first time ever:

The better part of my twenties
Spent writing songs about God
On a Prozac prescription
Doesn't that seem odd?
'Cause I believe in a gospel
And a God who is good
But these chemicals don't
Always work like they should

Hung up on this heartache
And the distance between
The way that I'm feeling
And what I believe
’Cause God I know that You're with me
Yeah, I really do
But these feelings just need
Some help to break through

'Cause I've been writing the book on
How to write you a love song
When I still need hеlp, tryna love myself
I've been writing thе book on
How to write you a love song
When I still need help, tryna love myself
I still need help, tryna love myself

I've been tryna move forward
And not get stuck in my head
If there's a foolproof solution
I haven't found it yet
Just gotta know a day's coming
When You'll make all things new
But 'til then, I'll just try to be honest with You

'Cause I've been writing the book on
How to write you a love song
When I still need help, tryna love myself
I've been writing the book on
How to write you a love song
When I still need help, tryna love myself
I still need help, tryna love myself

***

You see, I’ve basically been a Christian my whole life, and I’ve been leading worship and singing in church since my mid-teens. But since 2017 I’ve also been on a daily dose of antidepressant, because that was the year my life fell apart and almost didn’t get put back together.

There are ways my upbringing in faith was wonderful, but in many other ways it was fear-based, fundamentalist, averse to doubt, and touched with self-loathing and visions of a stern God who commanded hellfire. It didn’t help that I was a sensitive, somewhat anxiety-prone kid who wanted to be good and moral.

I mostly just learned to play the good Christian kid role. It didn’t help that being put on a stage often led well-intentioned older Christians to commend me and tell me that God was going to do great things with me. They didn’t also know that I was struggling with normal raging teenage hormones in the midst of a purity culture that implied just having sexual thoughts was sinful.

I was taught a lot about “Christian worldview” and rational arguments for faith and how to respond to unbelievers, but I wasn’t taught what to do when my own doubts and questions came, so I just learned to stuff them down, pray harder, read more Bible. As you can imagine, at some point those coping mechanisms didn’t work anymore.

The dam finally broke in early 2017, when various circumstances triggered a nervous breakdown that led to six months of deep depression and anxiety. I was so full of shame, self-loathing, and feelings of spiritual abandonment. I felt like a total fraud and sham, and the pain was so pervasive I didn’t want to be around anymore.

Thankfully, with the support of family and friends, therapy for the first time in my life, and that antidepressant, I crawled out of that hole.

An experience like this never leaves you untouched. I feel like it either breaks you completely, or you experience a kind of transformation. Thankfully in my case it’s been the latter, but that doesn’t mean things are all onward and upward now. I will not be writing any sort of memoir on my “victorious Christian life”. Some days the shadow of that dark hole still beckons. I still need help trying to love myself. But my faith also feels more honest, more open-handed, more rested in the love of God, more compassionate toward others.

And I’m going to be honest, it’s surprising how powerful it is, six years on, to still hear reflections of my own story in a song. So, thanks Chris Renzema for sharing your own story in your artistry. I hope more artists of faith follow your example, because we need it out here.