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A Quiet Mind to Suffer With: Mental Illness, Trauma, and the Death of Christ
Publishers Weekly starred review “This is a stunning book, so rare and so beautiful. I cannot recommend it highly enough.” ―Matthew A. LaPine Suffering has been made holy by Christ’s proximity to it. This is the story of Christ’s nearness to my own suffering―my mental breakdown, my journey to the psych ward, my long, slow, painful recovery―and how Christ will use even our agony and despair to turn us into servants and guests of the mercy offered in his gospel. We cannot answer suffering. And yet suffering demands an answer. If Jesus is the answer to suffering, what kind of answer is Jesus? Everything that could be taken from a person was taken from him. The worst things a person could be made to see and feel were seen and felt by Christ. All of this came to a point in the nails driven into his hands and became a word that cannot be unspoken―his body broken and his blood poured out for us. Suffering has been made holy by Christ’s proximity to it.
302 pages, Paperback
Published September 13, 2023
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January 6, 2024I can’t bring myself to rate this book, because I liked it and, well, didn’t. And in that tension lay its value for me.
On the one hand, I’ve met the author and liked him very much. We connected over urban ministry that he still does and that I used to do. On that same hand, his writing style is really special and yet not affected; it’s genuine. The personal stories and explorations in this book were instructive for me, as someone who is almost always confident and doesn’t really understand what the author’s trials are like.
And that’s the other hand: because I don’t really understand his mental trials, and because he doesn’t pretend to have surmounted them all, I found it somewhat draining—what a selfish thing to say about a book by a respected acquaintance—to follow the tortuous pathways of his quiet, suffering mind.
I just named those pathways as a sort of negative for the book. But they also constitute the prime value of the book for me: John gave me (some) understanding of his trials, and those of others in his position, by transcribing the thoughts he has faced over and over in what he calls the Realm of Ceaseless Cognition: "figure out, know for sure, defend myself, and make things right."
I got to hear John talk to himself rather than listen to himself. And I wonder if and when I will have to do the same—or help others do it. John’s self talk wasn’t self help, either; he pointed me to Christ and, like me, rests in Him. For that I am grateful.
John wrote,
"I love Jesus and am still very much mentally ill. My love for Jesus has not fixed that. And Jesus’ love for me has not fixed it either. I love Jesus very, very much. And I’ve still been made to see and feel horrors."
This is not the cross I bear. It is his. I pray for my brother John that he will indeed be relieved of his suffering while still on this earth. I know, however, like he does, that his redeemer lives.
On the one hand, I’ve met the author and liked him very much. We connected over urban ministry that he still does and that I used to do. On that same hand, his writing style is really special and yet not affected; it’s genuine. The personal stories and explorations in this book were instructive for me, as someone who is almost always confident and doesn’t really understand what the author’s trials are like.
And that’s the other hand: because I don’t really understand his mental trials, and because he doesn’t pretend to have surmounted them all, I found it somewhat draining—what a selfish thing to say about a book by a respected acquaintance—to follow the tortuous pathways of his quiet, suffering mind.
I just named those pathways as a sort of negative for the book. But they also constitute the prime value of the book for me: John gave me (some) understanding of his trials, and those of others in his position, by transcribing the thoughts he has faced over and over in what he calls the Realm of Ceaseless Cognition: "figure out, know for sure, defend myself, and make things right."
I got to hear John talk to himself rather than listen to himself. And I wonder if and when I will have to do the same—or help others do it. John’s self talk wasn’t self help, either; he pointed me to Christ and, like me, rests in Him. For that I am grateful.
John wrote,
"I love Jesus and am still very much mentally ill. My love for Jesus has not fixed that. And Jesus’ love for me has not fixed it either. I love Jesus very, very much. And I’ve still been made to see and feel horrors."
This is not the cross I bear. It is his. I pray for my brother John that he will indeed be relieved of his suffering while still on this earth. I know, however, like he does, that his redeemer lives.
August 21, 2024
There are many books on the biological, genetic, social, and psychological aspects of mental illness. And they serve their purpose. And there are plenty book on mental illness and psychology, written by and for Christians.
But where this one shines is in bringing you along for the journey into his mind. It's not a didactic lecture, a dismissing bandaid, or a person talking down to you. Instead, we plod along with him and discover that the life, death, and resurrection of Christ are things just as real as our suffering.
The plodding, repetitious nature of this book—in its naming of things and slow methodology—were not so much a cool style choice than the way the book seemed to NEED to be written. The medium is part of the message. It was written in a way to bring us along with his mind and heart, and through his life. A style that was unusual and perhaps annoying at first, became one of the only things I could stomach to read during some of my own dark episodes with a mind that was not at rest.
This deserves to be bundled with Alan Noble's "On Getting Out Of Bed" and Sarah Clarkson's "This Beautiful Truth" (both just as beautifully helpful, and also written by people with OCD.) These three books are comprised of wise and honest guides, and I recommend them to any and everyone.
But where this one shines is in bringing you along for the journey into his mind. It's not a didactic lecture, a dismissing bandaid, or a person talking down to you. Instead, we plod along with him and discover that the life, death, and resurrection of Christ are things just as real as our suffering.
The plodding, repetitious nature of this book—in its naming of things and slow methodology—were not so much a cool style choice than the way the book seemed to NEED to be written. The medium is part of the message. It was written in a way to bring us along with his mind and heart, and through his life. A style that was unusual and perhaps annoying at first, became one of the only things I could stomach to read during some of my own dark episodes with a mind that was not at rest.
This deserves to be bundled with Alan Noble's "On Getting Out Of Bed" and Sarah Clarkson's "This Beautiful Truth" (both just as beautifully helpful, and also written by people with OCD.) These three books are comprised of wise and honest guides, and I recommend them to any and everyone.
September 14, 2023
I can’t stop talking about this book. It’s beautiful and harrowing and pointed me back to Christ so poignantly through the author’s story and his reflections on Jesus and on prayer. Highly recommend.
June 12, 2026
How should I describe this book? Exhausting? Dizzying? Unnerving? Yes, and also breathtakingly beautiful, consoling, and deeply edifying.
February 21, 2024
It would be a strange thing to “appreciate” suffering. And yet, after reading “A Quiet Mind to Suffer With,” I found myself genuinely refreshed with a new appreciation of the opportunity that we have as Christians to suffer. I was reminded (in a profound and meaningful way) that to suffer is to be united with Christ—and to be united with Christ is one of the highest privileges of the Christian life.
I took my time in reading this book and posting this review because I wanted to protect it from my own recency bias! And yet, as time has gone on, I can truthfully say that this is one of the most influential and impactful books that I have read. At the end of the book, I felt like I had a “friend” in Bryant…while his suffering is unique, he invites the reader behind the curtain into such an honest portrayal of his own life that it is nearly impossible to not be captivated by his genuine faith and the surprising comfort that he finds in the death of Christ.
A beautiful, beautiful book. This one needs more attention!
—
In describing his own perspective on an ordainary life of regular worship, Bryant writes:
“I had trusted Christ with what had been taken [from me].
[My life] had been consecreated. It had become His. Word and Spirit had been joined to my humiliation the way it had joined the bread and the wine and the waters of baptism. That unbearable dissatisfaction had been made holy by its proximity to Christ. Everything that could be seen and felt or done or taken was now the blood poured out and the body broken for us. Everything that could be seen, felt, done, or taken had been given back to us as Himself, as the forgiveness of sins” (pg 230).
I took my time in reading this book and posting this review because I wanted to protect it from my own recency bias! And yet, as time has gone on, I can truthfully say that this is one of the most influential and impactful books that I have read. At the end of the book, I felt like I had a “friend” in Bryant…while his suffering is unique, he invites the reader behind the curtain into such an honest portrayal of his own life that it is nearly impossible to not be captivated by his genuine faith and the surprising comfort that he finds in the death of Christ.
A beautiful, beautiful book. This one needs more attention!
—
In describing his own perspective on an ordainary life of regular worship, Bryant writes:
“I had trusted Christ with what had been taken [from me].
[My life] had been consecreated. It had become His. Word and Spirit had been joined to my humiliation the way it had joined the bread and the wine and the waters of baptism. That unbearable dissatisfaction had been made holy by its proximity to Christ. Everything that could be seen and felt or done or taken was now the blood poured out and the body broken for us. Everything that could be seen, felt, done, or taken had been given back to us as Himself, as the forgiveness of sins” (pg 230).
April 18, 2024
Hauntingly beautiful. Hard to summarize this memoiresque theological reflection on mental suffering. But I’m left deeply impacted. If you want to learn how to cultivate compassion and have a softer heart toward sufferers, you need to wrestle with this book. Cannot recommend it enough.
April 1, 2025
I am so thankful for this book. I’m thankful for the soul-bearing honesty that never hides from those dark corners of the mind, all in an act of worship giving testimony to the faithfulness of God.
It’s a bad habit of mine to read books with a sort of consumer mentality, to just be looking for the things that apply to me and not really engage with the rest. I’m really glad this book didn’t allow me to do that. It’s written in a way that brings you into the mind, heart and soul of its author to experience both heartbreak and mercy alongside him. Sure, there were many moments that were illuminating for myself, but it is much more than that. The result is not just “self-help” but a greater view of God’s mercy, a deeper compassion for others who suffer, and a more whole-hearted trust in the Lord.
It’s a bad habit of mine to read books with a sort of consumer mentality, to just be looking for the things that apply to me and not really engage with the rest. I’m really glad this book didn’t allow me to do that. It’s written in a way that brings you into the mind, heart and soul of its author to experience both heartbreak and mercy alongside him. Sure, there were many moments that were illuminating for myself, but it is much more than that. The result is not just “self-help” but a greater view of God’s mercy, a deeper compassion for others who suffer, and a more whole-hearted trust in the Lord.
January 15, 2025
This might be my favorite book.
I cried reading this book, which is not that rare of an occurrence. I cried as I finished this book, which I think has only happened twice in my life. If those tears could speak, they'd say, "I feel seen." Not because I have OCD, but I can deeply relate to parts of his story and the way he's made meaning of his experiences deeply resonated with me.
I deeply resonate with his concept of The Howling Boy, and my body and mind (when having symptoms of my own mental illness) do feel like terrifying strangers.
This book is a little hard to read at first, because his writing style is unique and his glossary of terms take some getting used to. I'm glad I got used to them. It took some effort, and his style is certainly unique. But it is also beautiful. His writing is compelling.
Not everyone will resonate with this book as deeply I did, I'm sure. But man. I so loved it.
I'd love to put in some of my favorite quotes, but there are too many. Look for my blog to find those, I'm thinking about writing a post about this book. But I'll leave you with just one...
Talking about the Gospel of Mark:
"Hearing those stories wasn't like learning about Christ. It was like being regarded by Christ. Reading the stories again and again was like having Christ take a good, long look at you. And to be healed as you were seen by Him. Healed in some deeper place than what you thought or felt. Healed by what you understood. Changed by who He is." (180)
I cried reading this book, which is not that rare of an occurrence. I cried as I finished this book, which I think has only happened twice in my life. If those tears could speak, they'd say, "I feel seen." Not because I have OCD, but I can deeply relate to parts of his story and the way he's made meaning of his experiences deeply resonated with me.
I deeply resonate with his concept of The Howling Boy, and my body and mind (when having symptoms of my own mental illness) do feel like terrifying strangers.
This book is a little hard to read at first, because his writing style is unique and his glossary of terms take some getting used to. I'm glad I got used to them. It took some effort, and his style is certainly unique. But it is also beautiful. His writing is compelling.
Not everyone will resonate with this book as deeply I did, I'm sure. But man. I so loved it.
I'd love to put in some of my favorite quotes, but there are too many. Look for my blog to find those, I'm thinking about writing a post about this book. But I'll leave you with just one...
Talking about the Gospel of Mark:
"Hearing those stories wasn't like learning about Christ. It was like being regarded by Christ. Reading the stories again and again was like having Christ take a good, long look at you. And to be healed as you were seen by Him. Healed in some deeper place than what you thought or felt. Healed by what you understood. Changed by who He is." (180)
February 20, 2024
Ein Buch, welches so unfassbar pur ist, dass ich echt Schwierigkeiten hatte es aus der Hand zu legen. Die ersten Kapitel sind etwas herausfordernd, weil man sich erstmal in Bryants Weise zu schreiben und zu denken gewöhnen muss. Aber es lohnt sich sehr!
Bryant beschriebt seinen Weg mit Jesus ein Leben mit Zwangsstörungen zu leben, und sein Ringen damit, dass Jesus diese Krankheit nicht einfach von ihm nimmt. Er beschreibt, dass er lernen musste Gott zu vertrauen mit seinen Leben, seiner Zukunft und seinen ängstlichen Gedanken. Wenn der auferstandene Jesus sich seiner Wunden nicht schämt, dann muss er das auch nicht. Er schreibt:
"In the fresh hearing of the Gospel I was not rescued from the appearance and power of awful thoughts and feelings. But only from the trust I had in them." (146)
Dieses Buch ist eine herzergreifende und zutiefst persönliche Meditation über Jesu Wort zu Paulus "Lass dir an meiner Gnade genügen!" und schafft es daher Schönheit und Stärke inmitten des Schmerzes zu predigen; und ja dieses Buch fühlt sich oft an wie eine Predigt, manchmal wie ein Tagebucheintrag und manchmal wie Poesie.
"The reason so few of us grow in our life with Christ is because it is so painful. There is no Growth to our dependance on Christ that is not also a wound to our dependance on self." 227.
Bryant beschriebt seinen Weg mit Jesus ein Leben mit Zwangsstörungen zu leben, und sein Ringen damit, dass Jesus diese Krankheit nicht einfach von ihm nimmt. Er beschreibt, dass er lernen musste Gott zu vertrauen mit seinen Leben, seiner Zukunft und seinen ängstlichen Gedanken. Wenn der auferstandene Jesus sich seiner Wunden nicht schämt, dann muss er das auch nicht. Er schreibt:
"In the fresh hearing of the Gospel I was not rescued from the appearance and power of awful thoughts and feelings. But only from the trust I had in them." (146)
Dieses Buch ist eine herzergreifende und zutiefst persönliche Meditation über Jesu Wort zu Paulus "Lass dir an meiner Gnade genügen!" und schafft es daher Schönheit und Stärke inmitten des Schmerzes zu predigen; und ja dieses Buch fühlt sich oft an wie eine Predigt, manchmal wie ein Tagebucheintrag und manchmal wie Poesie.
"The reason so few of us grow in our life with Christ is because it is so painful. There is no Growth to our dependance on Christ that is not also a wound to our dependance on self." 227.
January 14, 2025
This has been one of the most transforming books that I have ever read and it has answered questions I never would’ve thought would be answered. I’m deeply thankful that this was recommended to me and I’m excited to dwell on it and to let it transform me through the work of the Spirit. “We think Christ is honored by what we think and feel. But Christ is honored by what we trust Him with.”
May 20, 2026
I finished this a few days ago, but had to stew on it for a while to really settle my thoughts.
The first section is like a very complicated poetry. Once I read it, I understood it, but in reading it, I felt a little lost. Bryant sort of invents his own language for talking about his condition and while it does turn out to be very creative and ultimately helpful, it is a hard start to the book. It does get better.
It’s hard to sum up this book into a short phrase or paragraph - there’s just too much wisdom and struggle there. Instead, here are a few things that really stood out to me:
- Bryant, in his condition, is almost never “okay”. He doesn’t feel okay, his thoughts betray him constantly; he would say “everything is wrong and I need to make it right”. But he can’t. And yet, by Christ’s own Mercy, he IS okay. Great lessons in here about being okay even when you’re not feeling that way. The peace of God is not always “felt” but always present and available.
- This book is a hard counter to the book I just finished, Desiring God by John Piper. In that one, Piper argues strongly for “if you’re not feeling joy in God, something is wrong”. Here, Bryant’s brain sends constant “panic” chemicals that prevent that joy most of the time, and yet He still praises God with true faith. I think both read together gave a balanced and more nuanced view. Thanks for that unexpected timing, God.
- Hate of self is a self-centered way of self-justification. Bryant struggles with hating himself for his intrusive thoughts and feelings, for desires he doesn’t want, for a person he struggles not to be. And dang it all if that isn’t relatable. The mindset of “if I just hate myself enough, then I distance myself from those things and God will love me” is a true battle for many. Some treat hatred of self as a form of repentance. But hate does not bring love or joy. That is mercy’s job.
- I’ve started to ask myself, especially in the spirals of the above, this question, inspired by this book: “Does He still have the scars?” Does Christ, even as He sits enthroned in Heaven as our High Priest and Advocate, still have the scars of the horribleness of the cross? On His head and hands and feet and side? I think yes. Jesus is perfect, and He has those scars. He has not forgotten me. He has not forgotten how much I cost, not regretted it. In the depths of sin or feeling not okay, does He still have the scars? Did He still die for me?
Yep.
It’s a good book. Thanks Will.
The first section is like a very complicated poetry. Once I read it, I understood it, but in reading it, I felt a little lost. Bryant sort of invents his own language for talking about his condition and while it does turn out to be very creative and ultimately helpful, it is a hard start to the book. It does get better.
It’s hard to sum up this book into a short phrase or paragraph - there’s just too much wisdom and struggle there. Instead, here are a few things that really stood out to me:
- Bryant, in his condition, is almost never “okay”. He doesn’t feel okay, his thoughts betray him constantly; he would say “everything is wrong and I need to make it right”. But he can’t. And yet, by Christ’s own Mercy, he IS okay. Great lessons in here about being okay even when you’re not feeling that way. The peace of God is not always “felt” but always present and available.
- This book is a hard counter to the book I just finished, Desiring God by John Piper. In that one, Piper argues strongly for “if you’re not feeling joy in God, something is wrong”. Here, Bryant’s brain sends constant “panic” chemicals that prevent that joy most of the time, and yet He still praises God with true faith. I think both read together gave a balanced and more nuanced view. Thanks for that unexpected timing, God.
- Hate of self is a self-centered way of self-justification. Bryant struggles with hating himself for his intrusive thoughts and feelings, for desires he doesn’t want, for a person he struggles not to be. And dang it all if that isn’t relatable. The mindset of “if I just hate myself enough, then I distance myself from those things and God will love me” is a true battle for many. Some treat hatred of self as a form of repentance. But hate does not bring love or joy. That is mercy’s job.
- I’ve started to ask myself, especially in the spirals of the above, this question, inspired by this book: “Does He still have the scars?” Does Christ, even as He sits enthroned in Heaven as our High Priest and Advocate, still have the scars of the horribleness of the cross? On His head and hands and feet and side? I think yes. Jesus is perfect, and He has those scars. He has not forgotten me. He has not forgotten how much I cost, not regretted it. In the depths of sin or feeling not okay, does He still have the scars? Did He still die for me?
Yep.
It’s a good book. Thanks Will.
November 23, 2023
So. First things first. Absolutely worth the read. 5⭐️ this will be a book that I keep on my shelf to reference for the rest of my life.
I’m always afraid of Christians who write books on mental illness. As someone with Bipolar disorder I am afraid that it’ll either insult my experience or insult my theology. This book handles both so well.
The author uses a lot of terms that he’s come up with to explain his experience. Which, given the nature of mental illness, feels necessary. There are a lot of times that I personally feel the need to use analogies to explain my experiences because it’s just too hard to put words on.
However, it is a little bit of a learning curve to get into the authors language. Because it is a little like another language. It took a little bit to understand what all the terms and references are about. So the beginning takes some time to get through.
However, even though it feels wordy at time, the nuggets of truth given all throughout this book are completely worth working for.
I wish I had this book years ago
I’m always afraid of Christians who write books on mental illness. As someone with Bipolar disorder I am afraid that it’ll either insult my experience or insult my theology. This book handles both so well.
The author uses a lot of terms that he’s come up with to explain his experience. Which, given the nature of mental illness, feels necessary. There are a lot of times that I personally feel the need to use analogies to explain my experiences because it’s just too hard to put words on.
However, it is a little bit of a learning curve to get into the authors language. Because it is a little like another language. It took a little bit to understand what all the terms and references are about. So the beginning takes some time to get through.
However, even though it feels wordy at time, the nuggets of truth given all throughout this book are completely worth working for.
I wish I had this book years ago
January 11, 2026
"In the Wilderness [...], we learn what Christ will have to be for us if things are going to be okay, that He will have to be more for us than we ever thought He could or should."
One of the back cover reviews describes this book as rare and beautiful, and I think those are maybe the best words for it. I have heard many times that Christ coming to earth and dying on a cross is what gives meaning to suffering, but I have never experienced that truth so clearly as I did reading this book. John reminds us repeatedly that what matters is not what we think or feel, but what (or Who) we put our trust in. An excellent antidote to an age that believes what we think or feel is the most important and significant thing about us.
While John is writing specifically about his experience with OCD and the trauma that swirls around it, I think this book will be a balm for anyone who has suffered and railed against life not being what they thought it should be, for anyone who has wrestled with shame, dread, or fear. Much like in Tish Harrison Warren's work, John's Anglican tradition helps him remember how to take small steps of faith even when his thoughts or feelings don't align, to lean into the Rhythms the church has created over the centuries. It's a beautiful lesson for all of us, and John's experience reminds us how powerful a simple life of quiet understanding full of hearing, praying, and offering to the Lord can be.
The first section is the hardest to get through - you have to get used to John's writing style and the words he uses and the concepts he wants to portray, but it really lays the bedrock for the rest of the book. Take it slowly and don't be discouraged if you have to re-read, because it creates a beautiful foundation for John to testify from.
I think this is one I'll be coming back to for a long, long time.
One of the back cover reviews describes this book as rare and beautiful, and I think those are maybe the best words for it. I have heard many times that Christ coming to earth and dying on a cross is what gives meaning to suffering, but I have never experienced that truth so clearly as I did reading this book. John reminds us repeatedly that what matters is not what we think or feel, but what (or Who) we put our trust in. An excellent antidote to an age that believes what we think or feel is the most important and significant thing about us.
While John is writing specifically about his experience with OCD and the trauma that swirls around it, I think this book will be a balm for anyone who has suffered and railed against life not being what they thought it should be, for anyone who has wrestled with shame, dread, or fear. Much like in Tish Harrison Warren's work, John's Anglican tradition helps him remember how to take small steps of faith even when his thoughts or feelings don't align, to lean into the Rhythms the church has created over the centuries. It's a beautiful lesson for all of us, and John's experience reminds us how powerful a simple life of quiet understanding full of hearing, praying, and offering to the Lord can be.
The first section is the hardest to get through - you have to get used to John's writing style and the words he uses and the concepts he wants to portray, but it really lays the bedrock for the rest of the book. Take it slowly and don't be discouraged if you have to re-read, because it creates a beautiful foundation for John to testify from.
I think this is one I'll be coming back to for a long, long time.
April 1, 2026
this is a book I couldn't read quickly... not because it wasn't incredible, it is. but perhaps because it resonated deeply with me. John Andrew Bryant writes an incredibly raw (to someone who know these mind games first hand sometimes it felt too raw and unnerving) and deeply contemplative story of his journey with mental illness and break and breakthrough with Christ. I loved how he portrays learning to be real and raw in the emotions with Christ. a journey I could deeply connect with... I highly recommend this story.
October 9, 2024
This may very well be the best book I’ll read all year, and I would be very happy if it turns out to be true. The author narrates his experience of mental illness (OCD), trip to the psych ward, and return through the pattern of church liturgy. As a reader, I felt gently carried into a story that requires great vulnerability to share.
I think often about how, in the arts, form is content. This book makes use of form (via liturgy) in a way that supports the style and tone of the story. In a church, the liturgy provides a pattern for elements of a worship service to follow: prayer, scripture, silence, song (among others). Words and phrases may be repeated, but are not redundant. Liturgy also sets a pace, holding a congregation in unison for the time they spend in the sanctuary. In the liturgical churches I’ve attended, there is a sense of time that is not rushed or anxious; it is deliberate and inhabited. I loved how A Quiet Mind used an overarching liturgical framework to structure the book and how the writing style was personal, contemplative, and well-paced. Each time I picked up the book, I had the sense of entering into a journey with the author that was profound and meaningful.
I also loved that this is not a self-help book, nor does it try to be a blueprint for all Christians who are concerned with mental health. It’s an honest and well-told story of living with God in the experience of mental suffering.
I am just now catching up on all my book reviews for the last few months (moving internationally and starting grad school means some priorities had to change), so I don’t think I’m doing my enjoyment of the book justice, but for now, this is what stood out to me the most! Highly recommend to all interested in mental health and the experience of life in Christ.
I think often about how, in the arts, form is content. This book makes use of form (via liturgy) in a way that supports the style and tone of the story. In a church, the liturgy provides a pattern for elements of a worship service to follow: prayer, scripture, silence, song (among others). Words and phrases may be repeated, but are not redundant. Liturgy also sets a pace, holding a congregation in unison for the time they spend in the sanctuary. In the liturgical churches I’ve attended, there is a sense of time that is not rushed or anxious; it is deliberate and inhabited. I loved how A Quiet Mind used an overarching liturgical framework to structure the book and how the writing style was personal, contemplative, and well-paced. Each time I picked up the book, I had the sense of entering into a journey with the author that was profound and meaningful.
I also loved that this is not a self-help book, nor does it try to be a blueprint for all Christians who are concerned with mental health. It’s an honest and well-told story of living with God in the experience of mental suffering.
I am just now catching up on all my book reviews for the last few months (moving internationally and starting grad school means some priorities had to change), so I don’t think I’m doing my enjoyment of the book justice, but for now, this is what stood out to me the most! Highly recommend to all interested in mental health and the experience of life in Christ.
February 5, 2026
How does one rate a book like this? Was it affective and moving and did it produce empathy and understanding? Absolutely. But did I particularly enjoy reading it? Not really, in part because of how Effectively Affective it was.
I very much felt like I was spiraling and doubling back and lost in the confusion of his anxiety and troubled thoughts. The structure of the book and the emotion of the writing skillfully give the reader a taste of how it would feel to be in the author’s brain, and let me tell you it is not a fun place to be.
I appreciate his vulnerability, and even the frustratingly non-linear storytelling gave an added dimension to his chaotic journey of processing through his mental illness and suffering. It’s hard to be critical of aspects of the book that I didn’t like, when they were intended for the very purpose of making me uncomfortable.
All in all, while I wouldn’t recommend this book for everyone, I read it and felt a deeper love and sympathy for the people in my life who I could see reflected in its pages. I wrote many quotes in my journal and was impacted by his thoughts as they pertained to my own personal struggles, and for how they articulate the truth of the gospel for all those whose lives it has transformed.
The one that sticks with me the most—“ How to articulate that it is Mercy that reveals our need for Mercy, and that this is the unbearable charity of the gospel”
I very much felt like I was spiraling and doubling back and lost in the confusion of his anxiety and troubled thoughts. The structure of the book and the emotion of the writing skillfully give the reader a taste of how it would feel to be in the author’s brain, and let me tell you it is not a fun place to be.
I appreciate his vulnerability, and even the frustratingly non-linear storytelling gave an added dimension to his chaotic journey of processing through his mental illness and suffering. It’s hard to be critical of aspects of the book that I didn’t like, when they were intended for the very purpose of making me uncomfortable.
All in all, while I wouldn’t recommend this book for everyone, I read it and felt a deeper love and sympathy for the people in my life who I could see reflected in its pages. I wrote many quotes in my journal and was impacted by his thoughts as they pertained to my own personal struggles, and for how they articulate the truth of the gospel for all those whose lives it has transformed.
The one that sticks with me the most—“ How to articulate that it is Mercy that reveals our need for Mercy, and that this is the unbearable charity of the gospel”
July 24, 2024
One man’s beautiful and hopeful reflection on his battle with OCD through the lens of cross, resurrection, and return. Bryant’s theology is deeply sacramental. He recognizes that full healing from mental illness may not come in this life but we can nevertheless hold onto victory by faith in the Word Christ daily gives. Like Augustine (and Paul in Romans 7), Bryant makes a distinction between the power corruption holds over us (in Bryant’s case his “Siren” brain) and actual, active sins with intention.
For most of the book, Bryant focuses on how healing comes in receiving God’s forgiveness but near the end when he apologizes to the “howling boy,” he seems to imply a therapeutic need to forgive himself. In one sense, the entire book models confession (like a modern-day Augustine on mental illness), but I wish Bryant had reflected on confession more explicitly. This would’ve helped his reader see more clearly how the Christian view of the corrupted body differs from a modern therapeutic mindset.
For most of the book, Bryant focuses on how healing comes in receiving God’s forgiveness but near the end when he apologizes to the “howling boy,” he seems to imply a therapeutic need to forgive himself. In one sense, the entire book models confession (like a modern-day Augustine on mental illness), but I wish Bryant had reflected on confession more explicitly. This would’ve helped his reader see more clearly how the Christian view of the corrupted body differs from a modern therapeutic mindset.
April 28, 2025
A beautiful book. One of the best Christian books I've ever read.
It's unfortunate that the subtitle and marketing are so focused on mental illness. While the author's OCD is obviously central to the book, it deserves to be read more broadly as a journey away from self-sufficiency to true humility, exploring what it means to find rest in Christ, and applying the gospel to your interior life.
I could list a few ways I would differ with the author on theology, but I don't think any of it was central enough to the book to matter. It's not meant to be a theology text or even a devotional. It is a poignant and humble memoir of a brother in Christ who has generously offered to us his pain and his reflections, to lead us to glorify God alongside him as we wait for all things to be made new.
From Romans 5:
"We also have joy with our troubles, because we know that these troubles produce patience. And patience produces character, and character produces hope. And this hope will never disappoint us, because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts."
It's unfortunate that the subtitle and marketing are so focused on mental illness. While the author's OCD is obviously central to the book, it deserves to be read more broadly as a journey away from self-sufficiency to true humility, exploring what it means to find rest in Christ, and applying the gospel to your interior life.
I could list a few ways I would differ with the author on theology, but I don't think any of it was central enough to the book to matter. It's not meant to be a theology text or even a devotional. It is a poignant and humble memoir of a brother in Christ who has generously offered to us his pain and his reflections, to lead us to glorify God alongside him as we wait for all things to be made new.
From Romans 5:
"We also have joy with our troubles, because we know that these troubles produce patience. And patience produces character, and character produces hope. And this hope will never disappoint us, because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts."
January 22, 2024
This book is in a category all its own. I’m still digesting it and rereading and underlining sections. I’ve never read a book that so clearly and poetically describes the reality of living with a mental illness, and that offers so much hope and comfort of Christ to the reader. At certain points, I would just read a paragraph and cry. And read another paragraph and cry again. 😄
Even if you don’t deal with OCD or with another mental illness, read this book! John’s insights on suffering are too valuable to be missed.
Even if you don’t deal with OCD or with another mental illness, read this book! John’s insights on suffering are too valuable to be missed.
January 20, 2026
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
This one wrecked me and rebuilt me. At its core, A Quiet Mind to Suffer With reminds us that unity in Christ and dependence on Him is the fundamental truth we cling to as those “He has delivered…from the domain of darkness and transferred… to the kingdom of his beloved Son.” (Col. 1:13)
“There may come a day when we cannot be sane or capable, when we cannot be stable. But there will never come a day when we cannot be a Christian. Because a Christian is someone who depends on Christ, who can be quietly changed by depending on Him.” -John Andrew Bryant
This book is for anyone, honestly, but most of all for those of us struggling with mental health and asking how to be a Christian in that struggle. An honest and tragically beautiful recounting of John’s experience of ordinary worship and transformation, on truth and depending more and more every day on Christ...
This one wrecked me and rebuilt me. At its core, A Quiet Mind to Suffer With reminds us that unity in Christ and dependence on Him is the fundamental truth we cling to as those “He has delivered…from the domain of darkness and transferred… to the kingdom of his beloved Son.” (Col. 1:13)
“There may come a day when we cannot be sane or capable, when we cannot be stable. But there will never come a day when we cannot be a Christian. Because a Christian is someone who depends on Christ, who can be quietly changed by depending on Him.” -John Andrew Bryant
This book is for anyone, honestly, but most of all for those of us struggling with mental health and asking how to be a Christian in that struggle. An honest and tragically beautiful recounting of John’s experience of ordinary worship and transformation, on truth and depending more and more every day on Christ...
August 26, 2024
Not to be dramatic but this book changed my life
December 16, 2023
This was a remarkable, unique memoir, intense, introspective, Christocentric. St. John of the Cross famously wrote of the "dark night of the soul" and in this book, John Andrew Bryant writes what might be the "dark season of the soul with OCD." Mental illness and trauma seem, sadly, to be increasingly prevalent in our world and the Church is only slowly coming to grips with how best to deal with the mental distresses of its members. Bryant's book is a powerful, hope-filled testimony to how Jesus Christ can meet us in our darkest places and shine the light of his love and grace. I found myself moved by many of Bryant's reflective observations such as:
And:
Themes of trust, of prayer, and of the (very Reformation!) tenet of the HEARING of God's Word, the Gospel, are present throughout the memoir. 'A Quiet Mind to Suffer With' is a profound book that that led me into prayer, that urged me to cling ever-closer to Christ, and I would recommend it for it will do the same for you.
When Christ comes back, what He will use to adorn Himself with, what He will count as precious, the crown He will wear, will be the tested and genuine trust of His people. It is our most precious means of communion with Him. By it we are involved in all the peril, promise, and power of His death and resurrection. What will adorn Christ as His return, what will shimmer off His crown, is the trust of shoeless, crazy people. His great home, His great cathedral, will be the trust of toothless schizophrenics (p.150).
And:
If our screaming and our howling have been consecrated, then our screaming and howling is the fear of the Lord. It is the trust we have in Christ. It is trusting Christ with things. We think Christ is honored by what we think and feel. But Christ is honored by what we trust him with (p.230).
Themes of trust, of prayer, and of the (very Reformation!) tenet of the HEARING of God's Word, the Gospel, are present throughout the memoir. 'A Quiet Mind to Suffer With' is a profound book that that led me into prayer, that urged me to cling ever-closer to Christ, and I would recommend it for it will do the same for you.
May 28, 2024
This memoir is a gem among stones that I will come back to for a long time. The author so lovingly and honestly opens up his interior life with Christ, and in doing so, he paints a picture of an incredible, mysterious tension of sin and suffering: recognizing where we are vulnerable and afflicted and sick, but also, importantly, where we have begun to agree with it, trust in it, and depend upon it. Then he points the reader to the One who does not promise to deliver us from living in this tension today, but instead has promised to return and deliver us completely.
He writes: "I learned what Christ would have to be for me if things were going to be okay... Not only the clothing of my shame, the casting out of my fear, the overturning of accusation, the bearing of History and the endurance of Affliction, and the burial of the Hardness of the Heart but / My composure in distress. My steadfastness in temptation. My standing-place in intimidation. My patience in frustration. My stillness in anticipation. My consolation in despair. My contentment in dissatisfaction. Body, mind, and soul did not have the future I could provide for them. They had the future provided by the forgiveness of sins" (97).
This book is not something you need to struggle with trauma or mental illness to understand, but for those who have suffered or been exposed to these things, it will be a deep breath of fresh air and a source of fellowship, borne carefully through prayer and lived dependence on Christ.
He writes: "I learned what Christ would have to be for me if things were going to be okay... Not only the clothing of my shame, the casting out of my fear, the overturning of accusation, the bearing of History and the endurance of Affliction, and the burial of the Hardness of the Heart but / My composure in distress. My steadfastness in temptation. My standing-place in intimidation. My patience in frustration. My stillness in anticipation. My consolation in despair. My contentment in dissatisfaction. Body, mind, and soul did not have the future I could provide for them. They had the future provided by the forgiveness of sins" (97).
This book is not something you need to struggle with trauma or mental illness to understand, but for those who have suffered or been exposed to these things, it will be a deep breath of fresh air and a source of fellowship, borne carefully through prayer and lived dependence on Christ.
January 23, 2024
I have conflicting feelings about this book. The first half was tough to get through. It felt like such difficult reading for me, and I think some of the problems could have been addressed by making some different editing choices.
The second half was better and the writing became more fluid toward the end.
If you are looking for a straightforward spiritual memoir, this is not the book for you.
On the other hand, Bryant makes himself vulnerable and is attempting to put into words an experience that is nearly impossible to describe. He is speaking as a sufferer to other sufferers in a unique and lyrical way. I found myself highlighting so many passages that were insightful and poignant.
I certainly came away from reading this book with some insights and I will probably look back at my highlights in the future.
The second half was better and the writing became more fluid toward the end.
If you are looking for a straightforward spiritual memoir, this is not the book for you.
On the other hand, Bryant makes himself vulnerable and is attempting to put into words an experience that is nearly impossible to describe. He is speaking as a sufferer to other sufferers in a unique and lyrical way. I found myself highlighting so many passages that were insightful and poignant.
I certainly came away from reading this book with some insights and I will probably look back at my highlights in the future.
September 19, 2024
I took my time reading this book. I don't think I have ever encountered a book that felt like a great big hug. This book provided comfort, security, and a feeling of relatability. I have struggled with mental health for a long time, and it's so wonderful and reassuring to hear someone else's story, their battle, their fight—the culmination of feeling that everything will collapse on you, all your feelings and anxieties. Yet this book reminds you of one simple yet joyous reminder. Christ has been through it all before, He knows your suffering, he knows your anxieties, he knows how hard it feels when the weight of the world comes crashing down. He Himself is the suffering servant. And this book gives the powerful reminder that you can place all your trust in His word. I loved this book so much, what I would give to give this book to my younger self.
September 20, 2025
I have now read this book three times in five months, and it made me a little sad to finish it this time because it has been such a comfort to me. It has been like having a friend to walk through a brutal, confusing, terrifying, lonely mental illness with. It has given me a way to understand what is happening to me when I feel totally lost. I can't recall a book that means more to me, and I can't speak highly enough of it. I am sure I will read it again soon.
April 1, 2025
This was a strange read, in no small part because it was both an encouraging and discouraging look at mental illness through the lens of someone else also named John who struggles with OCD and intrusive thoughts in a manner very similar to myself. It was encouraging because of the way he shows how Jesus met him when he felt like his own mind had turned on him; it was discouraging because it showed how dangerous it can actually be if you reveal your struggle with intrusive thoughts to the wrong person and how you can be judged for it even if you don't actually do anything wrong. It was encouraging to understand that the way out of the hell of intrusive thoughts is to trust Jesus literally with you in your mind; it was discouraging to see that miraculous healing, healing I've prayed for what feels like a year now, doesn't always come, and maybe isn't supposed to come. Maybe it takes time, but I can't help but wonder...aren't there other ways than this to produce humility or remind us of weakness? Couldn't I have been given another trial instead of one like this? Maybe I'm reading too much into it; this John and I aren't the same person, even we have the same name and our symptoms are similar, differing by degree instead of kind. This started as a review and has turned into a ramble. It's a helluva book.
March 4, 2025
Raw, unfiltered & intense. Bryant offers a deeply personal glimpse into life with OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder (damn)) as a follower of Christ and aspiring pastor. His style of writing mirrors the rhythm of his mind: fast paced, looping, despair and hope dripping between the lines (making some chapters a bit long-winded, yet it provides valuable insight into the mechanisms of the disorder.).
Through his words I came to understand, in a way I haven’t before, what D.C. Ortlund meant when he wrote: “Jesus dwells in our deepest pockets of shame“. Bryant doesn’t merely explain this truth - he describes how he experienced it, how he lived it, by following God even when his mind became a stranger and the body a „wounded thing“.
The book helped me understand the possible connection between mental illness, trauma and the suffering of Christ.
An example of the connection:
„Pulling up to the parking lot, I remembered how frightened I was when my wife drove me here (the 4th floor of the psych ward where he stayed in) a few years ago. And how now I wasn't frightened. Pulling up at that time I thought, "My life is over. This is where my life ends."
Pulling up now, and looking up at the fourth foor where all the crazies are fed and kept, I thought, "That is where I died with Christ."
I understood then, and am still learning to understand, that the fourth floor of the hospital is included in my pronouncement of the gospel, not ourside it. The psych ward had become a psalm.
The anguish that was here had become a prayer. I had a life in Christ that included coming back here. To speak of Christ was to speak of this place. That is what it would always be.“ (143)
Through his words I came to understand, in a way I haven’t before, what D.C. Ortlund meant when he wrote: “Jesus dwells in our deepest pockets of shame“. Bryant doesn’t merely explain this truth - he describes how he experienced it, how he lived it, by following God even when his mind became a stranger and the body a „wounded thing“.
The book helped me understand the possible connection between mental illness, trauma and the suffering of Christ.
An example of the connection:
„Pulling up to the parking lot, I remembered how frightened I was when my wife drove me here (the 4th floor of the psych ward where he stayed in) a few years ago. And how now I wasn't frightened. Pulling up at that time I thought, "My life is over. This is where my life ends."
Pulling up now, and looking up at the fourth foor where all the crazies are fed and kept, I thought, "That is where I died with Christ."
I understood then, and am still learning to understand, that the fourth floor of the hospital is included in my pronouncement of the gospel, not ourside it. The psych ward had become a psalm.
The anguish that was here had become a prayer. I had a life in Christ that included coming back here. To speak of Christ was to speak of this place. That is what it would always be.“ (143)
January 25, 2024
4.3? Not sure on the rating. The book shines in hammering home dependence on Christ. I can see the writing style and struggles depicted as being difficult for some to connect with. I didn’t have too much trouble relating to the struggles, at times though I couldn’t tell you why something came up when it did in the book. Maybe just my ignorance. I haven’t read a book that so continually reiterates dependence on Christ in the face of suffering and everyday life. What is depicted ought be normal for all Christians, in that we are always needing to depend on Christ and not on ourselves whether we are accused and haunted by our minds, our circumstances or we are flourishing. I appreciate how the book helps depict the painfulness and frustrations of suffering with ocd and anxiety (and not to minimize those specific struggles), but the example in it is for everyone. Though there maybe a number of wise and prudential things to do depending on our circumstances (medicine, exercise, sleep, friends, move, etc.), what’s most pressing of us in whatever circumstance we find ourselves in is to once again depend on Christ through ordinary means (prayer for help, scripture, sacraments). As the book shows this will be a worthy endeavor, not because it removes the affliction but it quiets it in light of the crucified Christ and what he has accomplished for us.
…and just some tender difficult moments to resonate with for anyone whose felt trapped, attacked or betrayed by their mind.
…and just some tender difficult moments to resonate with for anyone whose felt trapped, attacked or betrayed by their mind.
February 8, 2024
This is a hard book to rate, but I think it merits 5 stars because I know I’m better for having read it, and the Spirit stirred my heart and affections for Jesus because of it. The writing style is something to get used to, especially in the first brief part, but it shines in its honesty and its willingness to be imperfect, vulnerable, even repetitive. Reading felt like listening to a friend who knows Jesus deeply and who “gets it,” and I found myself thinking a lot about the Sermon on the Mount through it. So overall, yes it’s a book about mental illness and that experience, but more fundamentally it’s about dependence on Christ, and it’s about the Christian life of learning to walk with, follow, and be led by Jesus. And it’s utterly compelling, beautiful, and convicting all at once.
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