This piece was originally published in the Columbia Witness (formerly Columbia Crown & Cross) Fall 2018 print issue.
For a while now, I have been trying to find the exact English translation for the Chinese word “ji tuo (寄托).” I have consulted a couple of Chinese–English dictionaries and have asked for definitions from my friends, but there is no one English word that can capture the essence of “ji tuo.” According to a source on Baidu Baike (a Chinese online encyclopedia), “ji tuo” originally meant to entrust something important to another person for a period of time, and has now extended its meaning to be an imagined and unrealistic spiritual ideal that one’s mind and soul can rest on when feeling depressed, sad, and lost. It is a medicine for the soul and a means to fill the vanity of the heart. People with “ji tuo” feel grounded and happy and have an easier way to an efficient and high-quality life.
My special attention to this word originated from many experiences I had when I told my friends and family in China about my conversion to Christianity. Many of them had a similar reaction. They congratulated me and said, “I’m glad you have a ‘ji tuo.’” At that point, my family and I had been battling against my anxiety and depression for four years. We were exhausted, and all we wanted was a solution that could relieve me from all the pain and suffering. As a result, my conversion to a well-known religion was good news for everyone—now, my soul and my mind would at least be settled. They believed that once I had a “ji tuo,” somehow all the problems in my life would be answered and solved. Something magical and mysterious happened in that black box that is the Christian God, and I came out the other side with an easier and less painful life.
It was eight years ago when I first realized that there was something wrong with me mentally. During the first day of high school, while other students seemed to have no problem understanding class material, I could not concentrate on or interpret anything the teacher said, no matter how hard I tried. My mind was entirely occupied by thoughts about how fast my heart was beating, how much blood was rushing into my head, and how horrible the consequences would be if I kept dwelling on these thoughts. It was a vicious circle—the more I zoomed in on my physical condition, the more anxious I became. Soon after, I was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and mood disorder. I had to take a gap year.
Many times during the gap year, I thought about ending my life. The only reason that kept me alive was that I was too scared to end it. My fight against anxiety and depression was painful and tiresome—talk therapy, appointments with my psychiatrist, visits to a Buddhist monk, and so on. My family and I tried every method we could find. I was ashamed of myself and of everything about my mental disability. It was not just a mental “problem”—it was a disease, a disease that could never be cured, and one that made me hate myself. The world is so unfair—why did it have to be me? What have I done that the world had to abandon me? I felt lonely and helpless. So I left my hometown, hoping to leave my past behind. I came to the US looking for a cure, and three years later, I found one. But it was much different from what I had imagined.
I found God.
Many of my friends were happy for me, but in their minds, this was how my conversion happened: I was too weak, so I was defeated by mental problems; I was too unassured, so I needed to find a security blanket; I was too desperate, so I would settle for anything that gave me comfort. In some ways, they were right—I was not strong or self-assured. Ever since I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression, I was caught up with the fact that I was weaker than everyone else. To me, normal meant no mental diseases. As a result, I believed that I was the abnormal one and that I needed to try everything to revert my condition back to normal. I spent most of my time trying to become stronger and more secure, only to discover after many failures that I could not do it on my own. However, Christianity tells a different story. What appears to be abnormal is actually a consequence of the human condition, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
Finally, I had the courage to face all my mental problems and say—yes, I am all that, but it is okay, because “[all] are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” It turned out that I was never alone, both because not being able to make it with my own strength was part of being human, and because there had always been a Heavenly Father who looked after me, listened to me, and sent his own Son to redeem me. The years I spent suffering from and battling against anxiety and depression helped me to see how sinful and powerless I was and how much I needed a savior. To know that there is a savior was to let go of my perfectionist obsession to control every detail of my life and to let go of my need to be strong and “normal” with my own power. So my friends were right: I was weak and incapable. But through Christianity, I became okay with it, because I now know that weakness is the human reality and that the blood Christ shed for all of humanity is also the reality. The burden and shame I once felt because of my “abnormality” was lifted up, and all I needed to do was to give my yoke to Him and rely on His power to sustain and strengthen me. I can gladly boast of my weaknesses, and be content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Though my friends were right about how weak I was, they did not fully understand how my desperation led me to God. When they heard about my conversion, they equated God to a form of “ji tuo”—God as an elixir for all my pain and suffering. So, in desperation, I went for it. However, unlike what they imagined, Christianity was never a fast cure for my anxiety and depression. My life did not become happy and efficient all of a sudden. In fact, I constantly struggle with my mental problems to this day. There are times that I feel helpless and destroyed. I also go to a psychiatrist and have tried different antidepressants in the hopes that one of them may alleviate my conditions. It is true that God gives me comfort and security, but God is not a magician; He is a miracle maker. He does not trick us into believing Him when everything is just an illusion. He does not deceive our senses and make us think that all is well. Instead, He almost brutally exposes to us what is wrong with this world and opens a door to true salvation through the miracle named Jesus.
From the Christian perspective, the reality of the world is that it is never meant to be where we should be. When God created human beings, He intended for us to live with Him. However, as a result of Sin, we had to leave His presence because He could not tolerate our sinful natures. As long as we are alive on this earth, we will never feel completely at home, for through Jesus we have received a new home in Heaven. Christians are promised a lifetime of suffering as we struggle against the sins of this fallen world while obeying God’s commands from heaven. Like I said before, my life did not become any easier (as suggested by “ji tuo”) after my conversion to Christianity. I did not find a magical tool to fix my life. Instead, I found a hope and a purpose.
A Christian hope is not wishful thinking; it is an anticipation of something while knowing for sure that it will come. Nor does it give fulfillment according to earthly standards; it looks to the joy that is in heaven because that is the joy that can last forever. Everyone who believes in Jesus has this hope of eternal life and joy with our God in heaven. For Christians, all the afflictions and sufferings on this earth are only temporary. They are a result of us being in a foreign land. We know for sure that they will go away once we meet God in person and enjoy His glory forever in heaven. And gradually, this hope becomes the source of our strength to endure all struggles with joy in heart and mind. A Christian meaning is also different from an earthly one. Christians’ lives have meaning because God gave us meaning. We were not created out of chance or luck. We were designed and crafted by God and made in the likeness of Him. Our life was intended to be meaningful from the start, and our purpose is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.
Since becoming a Christian, whenever depression consumes me, I pray to God and am reminded that I am a child of God. My life is precious because an all-powerful God has given me a hope and a purpose. If I believe in Him and think He is more right than I am, then I have no right to end my own life, because God intended my life to be good and meaningful. Even though my whole world seems to be crumbling down sometimes, I know that there is a hope and promise that gives me the strength to run the race of life with endurance.
In the eight years that I have battled against mental disabilities, there were many times that I doubted my belief and wondered whether my faith was just another “ji tuo.” It is true that as a Christian, I can be confident in Jesus’ carrying my burdens with me, but it is not the case that my sinful nature is immediately purified as a result of faith. There are minor or major setbacks all the time. Christianity is not a magical vaccine that prevents us from being infected with the consequences of sin. Instead, a Christian life is a slow transition from complete depravity to improvement and sanctification. In these eight years, I felt so many times that I was about to be crushed by life’s heavy load, but again and again, God strengthened me. Every time I wanted to give up, I prayed to God, and He answered me. The answer Christianity provides for my troubles is not a magical yet thoughtless relief; it is one that is normal yet profound. My mental disability is normal, but God’s love for me is profound; I am weak yet He is strong. Belief in the redemption of sin by Jesus’ blood gave me the courage to put down all the baggage and shame I had because of anxiety and depression, and knowledge of God’s power, love, and promise gave me the power to start anew and endure whatever comes before me.
That being said, I am in no way trying to prove to anyone through this essay that the Christian God is real. When I shared with my friends how God had sustained me through my sufferings in life, some of them told me that they believed that only they could save themselves and that whoever gave up and found a “ji tuo” in something implausible was undetermined and delusional. I think they are right to conclude that, given their worldview. There is so much trouble, suffering, pain, and uncertainty in this world, and if we do not believe in an omnipotent being that can help us, we would have to believe in our own strength. I once believed in it too, but it resulted in a time without hope or purpose, and I lost the will to carry on. I broke down and gave in to mental disabilities.
But what if this world was created with a purpose? What if all our sufferings in this world are a preparation for something much greater? What if it is okay that we are weak? What if we are never on our own? And what if there is a God who loves us and redeems us from the pit of sin and suffering even though we are unfaithful and incapable? The Christian God provides an answer to these questions through His son, Jesus Christ, and I believe God is real and active, and He loves and cares for His entire creation. I have had a bumpy life so far, and I know that my future is not going to be that smooth, either. But that is okay because Jesus has got me. With these words, I only want to share my experience to show what kind of answer Christianity gives and what kind of life an imperfect Christian leads, in the hope that whoever hears my story can also find rest in God.
Lina (CC ’19) studies Data Science but loves the humanities. She also loves spending time pondering about her life and her faith. She is confused all the time, but she is willing to engage in discussion and improve in understanding.