What Does Numbing Look Like?

When we hear the word numbing, we may picture drugs, alcohol or serious addiction. But emotional numbing often looks much more ordinary.

A young person comes home from school and immediately reaches for their phone. Another spends every spare moment gaming. Someone watches episode after episode because they do not want to be alone with their thoughts. Another continually checks social media, hoping to feel noticed or wanted. Someone else loses hours scrolling through short videos without realizing how much time has passed.

We have even given one of these patterns a name: doomscrolling.

None of these activities are automatically unhealthy. Phones connect us. Games can be fun. Movies can help us relax. The most important question is not simply, “What are you doing?”

The better question may be, “What is this doing for you?”

Is it helping you rest—or helping you avoid something?

When young people do not know how to process rejection, loneliness, anxiety or grief, they may reach for whatever offers the quickest relief. Sometimes that relief is found in endless scrolling. Sometimes it is pornography, sexual attention, substances or another unhealthy behavior. The behavior may be what we notice first, but underneath it may be a young person who does not know what to do with their pain.

Numbing does not always look like laziness or obvious addiction. Sometimes it looks like relentless productivity. King Solomon built houses, planted vineyards and undertook great projects, yet discovered that accomplishment could not satisfy the emptiness within him. Even ministry can become a place to hide. Like Martha, we can become so distracted by serving Jesus that we no longer know how to sit quietly with Him.

Work and ministry are good gifts, but they cannot heal pain we refuse to acknowledge.

I was reminded of this recently.

The property I steward in the Kaʻū District of Hawaiʻi Island was damaged by Hurricane Lala. Some of the damage required several of us to relocate into a safer unit. Thankfully, we did not lose an entire roof or home as others right down the road did.

Immediately after the hurricane, I also had elderly clients in my community who needed help with cleanup, food, water and power. I went straight into serving mode. There was so much to do that I never stopped long enough to fully grasp what had happened to our own property—or to grieve how far this disaster had set us back.

I numbed my emotions through work and ministry.

Then an organization reached out and recognized that I needed help too. After speaking with people who knew me, they told me that others had said wonderful things about me and that I deserved to receive support.

Then I wept.

I needed help, and suddenly it felt safe to admit it. As I allowed myself to grieve and bring my pain before God, I felt relief—and from that relief came renewed strength.

How many of our young people have experienced a loss but never learned how to grieve it? How many of us have buried our pain beneath work, ministry, entertainment or constant activity?

One ancient biblical practice we desperately need to recover is lament.

Biblical lament generally includes several movements:

• Turning toward God

• Naming what hurts

• Asking honestly for help

• Remembering what is true

• Choosing to continue trusting

Lament is more than complaining. It brings our pain into relationship with God instead of forcing us to carry it alone.

A young person might pray:

“God, I feel rejected and embarrassed. I want to disappear into my phone so I do not have to feel this. Please stay with me and show me what is true.”

This week, consider asking your family:

“What happened? What did it make you feel? What do you need from God—and what do you need from us?”

Then resist the urge to correct, lecture or solve the problem immediately. Simply listen.

Our young people do not need to be rescued from every painful emotion. They need to know that pain can be named, shared and brought safely into the presence of God. When we give grief a voice, it no longer has to search for an escape.

May His Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.

With love,

Joshua and the Explicit Movement ʻOhana