Say The Thing

By Scott Box

My friend Toby and I were the only two remaining in the back room. The music band, Sunday morning leadership, and the pastoral team had finished the pre-service prayer and had left the room to make final preparations and adjustments for the church service. Toby was scheduled to make a brief announcement before officiating the offering (we still pass baskets at our church). I looked at his bald head and bright Hawaiian shirt and grinned. Toby is a joyous curiosity. I know a bit about Toby\’s past as a United States Marine and Special Forces operator who has been shot at multiple times in his life, had guns put to his head out in some Middle Eastern desert and done his share of shooting back. Also, he once stole a hymnal from the US Marine Chapel in Quantico, Virginia, to give me as a gift. I love Toby. I also love sharing my ministry work with him as a leader in a wonderful church in Central Oregon. 

As I was about to step out of the back room, I offered Toby a clarifying comment about the timing of his arrival to the platform later that morning so he and I would be in sync (I lead music for the church). Toby interrupted me mid-sentence. He was turned sideways and bent over, refreshing and adjusting new water bottles onto a short bookshelf. He calmly spoke, \”I got it, Scott. This morning, s***(expletive) doesn\’t start until I say so.\” He raised his head to make eye contact with me. The gleam in his eye told me he was having some fun but was also dead serious. He understood his mission and had the transitions under control—and that, basically, I needed to \”back off.\”

I immediately belly laughed and offered a, \”Sounds like we understand each other, Toby. It ALL starts when you say so, babycakes.\” 

Ahhh, side-note: As a pastor, can I tell you how refreshing it is when someone just \”says the thing.\”—no games?! It\’s wonderful. I love people like Toby. 

That is the way it needs to be with people like you and me, too—we are people who are learning to manage mental health challenges—no games. There is too much to lose. And while we don\’t have to \”say the thing\” quite the way Toby did—grin—we need to speak the truth to ourselves and others about the challenges and joys of the fight (or surrender) for health. No games.

I won\’t take too much time to differentiate, but as we learn to manage our health, are we honest about our challenges? Are we taking the time to acknowledge and celebrate our joyful accomplishments? Do we make healthy decisions when we celebrate? Are we sure we should be fighting, not surrendering (to Jesus)? More specifically, I mean, do we suppose that succumbing to our vices or self-medicating is better than gathering a small God honoring and loving team to help us fight for our lives? 

Are we willing to \”say the thing?\” 

Action plan: 

Take a minute and write a single word or three on paper or in a note on your computer or phone. Speak the truth to yourself. Are you broken? Write \”broken.\” Are you complete? Write \”complete.\” Are you fighting? Write, \”fighting.\” Are you surrendering? Or are you lost, and your head is blank? Are you simply surviving? Write these words or others, then share them with someone you trust. Maybe plop the words in front of their face and wait for them to look at you curiously. Then, \”say the thing.\” Risk putting the words you wrote into spoken sentences. Attempt to explain YOU to someone who loves YOU. 

When I am bold enough to \”say the thing\” and live it, it\’s a great way—the best way—for me to harness my bipolar disorder for good by bringing Jesus into my story and His heroic wholeness to the world in me and around me. My family and friends (generally) thank me when I \”say the thing.\” \”Saying the thing\” welcomes God and others to become partners in my gritty story. \”Saying the thing\” keeps me from deadly isolation. \”Saying the thing\” is humbling and, ironically, selfless—heroic. 

Remember that I am encouraging you to \”say the thing,\” but I\’m also telling you not to tell your friends and family to \”back off.\” Do the opposite: \”Say the thing.\” to invite Jesus and others into your story, your nightmare, your adventure. The truth is, Jesus is in control, but when it comes to this aspect of your mental health, my friend Toby is right, \”s***(expletive) doesn\’t start until (you) say so.\” Your mental health is no game. 

So what are your words? Plop your words in front of someone’s face to invite them in. \”Say the thing.\” Live heroic. 

(***Next month, let’s talk about how we begin to identify, craft and release our gritty mental health stories to the world around us. We’ll get very specific and practical in September, baby!)

Scott and Kariann Box live in Redmond, Oregon. Scott serves as Pastor of Development at Shiloh Ranch Church and has been a worship leader for over twenty-five years. Kariann works as a Realtor in Central Oregon and supports Scott’s…creative spirit. They have two children, a one-hundred-pound Labradoodle and a four-pound Shih Tzu without teeth. Scott is the author of HEROIC DISGRACE: Order out of chaos. Hope out of fear. ― A Worship Hero Story