I pray that this article written by my daughter, Julie Clair, challenges and speaks to your heart.
Behind the Mask
Author: Julie Clair
If you had met me in 10th grade, you probably would have thought I was an average kid. I came from a two-parent home, had two dogs, attended a good school, and was involved in just about everything. I was a leader in the Christian club, sang on the worship team, and participated in church activities. My grades were average. From the outside, life looked pretty good. I had friends. I had a loving family. I had a nice school.
What nobody could see was what had been building inside of me for years: resentment, hurt, frustration, anger, and eventually depression.
It was a normal day in 10th grade. My dad and I were in another argument. It was probably about my grades or some smart aleck comment I had made after being told to do something. On the surface, it seemed like a typical parent-teen disagreement. But underneath it all was years of unresolved pain.
You see, back in 7th grade, my dad made some mistakes that changed our lives. We left our church. We lost our foster siblings. I went from being homeschooled to attending public school for the first time in years. For a kid with undiagnosed ADHD, that was overwhelming. It was 1999. Everything changed. We started attending a new church. My mom went back to work. I entered a brand-new school in 8th grade and struggled to fit in. That same year, Columbine happened, and fear was everywhere. I was bullied and even told at one point that my name was on a hit list.
I survived. I dyed my hair black and wore oversized sports tear-away pants, jersey shirts, and a bucket hat. Style was definitely not my strength. I made it through 8th grade and into high school. I made friends, but I kept shoving my feelings down. Ninth grade wasn’t much better. I failed a class, got picked on by classmates, and eventually quit sports. From the outside, everything still looked fine. Inside, I was falling apart.
Then one summer, my parents sent me to Bible camp. My grandpa picked me up afterward, and on the drive home, he started going in the wrong direction. I told him he was going the wrong way, but he smiled and informed me we were moving that day. Again. A new house. A new neighborhood. A new school. By 10th grade, this was probably my fifth or sixth school and 5th house.
The year started well. I made friends. I got involved. Things seemed good. But somewhere in the middle of that year, everything inside of me finally collapsed.
One afternoon, after another argument with my dad, I stormed upstairs to my room. I was crying and completely overwhelmed. Years of hurt came flooding back all at once.
I’m not good enough.
I don’t deserve to live.
I’ll never be the daughter they want me to be.
I can’t measure up.
As I lay there crying, I picked up a bottle of pills and held it in my hand. This is it, I thought. Maybe everyone would be better off without me.
Now, understand something. I grew up in a Christian home. I had loving parents. I had friends. I had family who cared about me. Yet the enemy had gained a foothold in my thoughts. No one likes me. I’m not enough. I don’t matter. Everyone would be better off without me.
I sat there clutching that bottle when suddenly my dad yelled upstairs for me to come down. I didn’t want to. I was angry. I was hurt. I was done. I stomped downstairs, probably with another sarcastic comment ready to go.
My dad was standing there holding a package.
“It came in the mail for you,” he said.
I took it and went back upstairs.
I sat down again, still holding the bottle of pills. I didn’t even want to open the package. I didn’t care. But something nudged me to open it.
Inside was a dress. Honestly, it was probably a dress I would never wear and thought was ugly. I remember thinking, “Why in the world would someone send me this?” Then I opened the card.
It simply said:
“God loves you.”
That was it.
No long letter.
No sermon.
Just three words.
God loves you.
In that moment, God knew exactly what I needed. While I was sitting there believing I wasn’t worth loving, He reminded me of a truth I had forgotten. Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Before I ever got my life together, before I ever figured things out, God loved me. John 15:13 says, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus had already proven His love for me at the cross.
The card was from my aunt, but I knew the message was from God.
Somewhere in my anger, bitterness, self-pity, and hurt, I had forgotten what love looked like. But God hadn’t forgotten me. Jeremiah 31:3 says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” Not a temporary love. Not a love based on performance. Not a love that disappears when we struggle. An everlasting love.
What amazes me is that no one knew what was going on inside. I had become very good at masking. I smiled. I attended church. I participated in activities. I laughed with friends. Everything looked normal. But behind the mask, I was drowning.
That’s why we need to remember that we never truly know what someone else is carrying. The person who seems happiest may be fighting the darkest battle. The person who appears strong may be hanging on by a thread. People are often crying out for help behind a smile.
Sometimes we ask God, “Why?” Why did I go through that? Why did I struggle with depression? Why did you save me?
First, God saved me because someone was obedient enough to listen to His voice. My aunt probably had no idea what was happening in my life that day. Sending a dress and a simple card may have seemed insignificant. But God knew. Her obedience helped save my life.
That raises an important question: Are we listening when God speaks? Are we willing to do the small things He asks us to do, even when they seem silly, inconvenient, or unnecessary? You never know what your obedience might mean to someone else.
Second, sometimes our struggle becomes our testimony.
About a year later, I called a friend. He was shocked that I had reached out because, at that exact moment, he was considering taking his own life. Because of what I had gone through, I was able to share my story and encourage him to keep going.
Years later, God would use that same testimony in ministry. I have had the privilege of helping students and young people who were battling depression and suicidal thoughts. The very thing the enemy meant to destroy me became something God used to help others.
I think that is exactly what Paul meant when he wrote in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, “Praise be to the God of all comfort… who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” God never wastes our pain. He uses it to help someone else.
Looking back now, I also see the truth of Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I felt alone that day, but I wasn’t. God was closer than I realized.
And even when I thought He had abandoned me, He hadn’t. Deuteronomy 31:8 says, “The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5 repeats that same promise: “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”
I don’t know what you are struggling with today. Maybe you’re wearing a mask. Maybe everyone around you thinks you’re okay. Maybe you’re carrying hurt, disappointment, anger, loneliness, anxiety, or depression.
Please hear this:
God loves you.
He has not abandoned you.
He has not forgotten you.
He has not given up on you.
And if God is asking you to reach out to someone, send a text, make a phone call, write a card, or encourage a friend—do it. It may seem small. It may seem insignificant. It may even seem foolish.
But you never know what hangs in the balance when you choose to be obedient.
A simple card with three words changed the course of my life.
“God loves you.”
And maybe someone around you needs to hear those same three words today.
