Living with a Gift That Won't Turn Off

For as long as I can remember, something was just different about me. Not different in the "special snowflake" way that every parent tells their kid they are. Different in the way that made me feel like I was carrying around a second version of myself that nobody else could see.

As a child, I didn't have words for what was happening. I just knew that I would look at people and know things about them. Things no one had ever told me. I'd have visions, see things that hadn't happened yet, feel the weight of truths that others couldn't see. And let me tell you, being the kid who "just knows things" doesn't exactly make you popular at recess. It makes you weird. It makes you the one adults whisper about and other kids avoid.

I spent years thinking I was broken, or crazy, or both.

It wasn't until I was around 20 or 21 that my Auntie Lynn gave me the gift of language. She looked at me one day and said, "You have a powerful gift of discernment. You're going to have to learn how to steward it well."

Discernment. Finally, a word for this thing that had been living inside me my whole life.

Let's get clear on what we're talking about here. The world and the church don't always agree on definitions.

Worldly discernment is essentially good judgment. It's the ability to make wise decisions, read between the lines, and understand people's motivations. It's emotional intelligence with a PhD.

Biblical discernment is something altogether different and more intense. It's the supernatural ability to distinguish between truth and deception. You perceive spiritual realities. You know God's heart in situations where others see only surface-level confusion. The Greek word diakrisis means "to separate" or "to distinguish." It's the ability to see through to what's really happening beneath the surface.

When Auntie Lynn explained this to me, everything clicked. This wasn't just me being perceptive or intuitive. This was a spiritual gift. And like all spiritual gifts, it came with both blessing and burden.

Here's what nobody tells you about having a high level of discernment. It's exhausting.

You can't turn it off. You can't dial it down. You can't pretend you don't see what you see or know what you know. Trust me, I've tried. There have been countless times when I've wanted to just go along with everyone else. To nod and smile when I know someone is lying. To keep quiet when I see disaster coming down the pipeline.

But discernment doesn't come with an off switch.

When I got married, this gift became even more complicated. Josh didn't understand it. How could he? He'd grown up in a world where you take people at face value and trust what you can see. Meanwhile, I'm over here saying, "I know this person seems great, but something's not right," or "This situation is going to blow up in six months," or "That person is not who they're pretending to be."

I found myself isolated, questioning my own sanity, feeling like I was speaking a language no one else understood. People would ask for my opinion, then get upset when I gave them the truth instead of what they wanted to hear. Some even weaponized my gift against me. They used my insights to their advantage while dismissing me when the truth became inconvenient.

You get tired of telling people hard truths. You get tired of being the bearer of bad news. You just want to blend in with everyone else. But you can't.

My discernment is one of the main reasons I came off social media four months ago. I could see the truth behind posts that people were putting out there. Posts that I knew good and well were untrue. And God would show me their truth. The real story behind the highlight reel. The pain behind the perfect family photo. The chaos behind the "blessed and highly favored" caption. It was so heavy. So incredibly heavy.

Everyone else was double tapping and commenting "goals!" and I'm sitting there seeing the reality that nobody else could see. It got to be too much.

It's why I've always chosen to be completely honest on my own social media when I was on it. I needed people to have a different perspective on what living free really looks like. Not always easy but always survivable. We need to see more truth in the world, especially now when our government is in a downward spiral and authenticity feels like a lost art. If I was going to have this gift that forced me to see everyone else's truth, the least I could do was live in my own.

Let's address the elephant in the room.

The church loves to celebrate spiritual gifts, but we rarely talk about how they can mess with your mental health.

When you can see three steps ahead of everyone else, anxiety follows. When you know the truth about situations and people that others are blind to, depression creeps in. When you carry the weight of knowledge that you can't always share, isolation becomes your constant companion.

You're constantly bracing for impact from disasters only you can see coming. You're grieving losses before they happen. You're watching people make decisions you know will hurt them. And there's often nothing you can do but watch and pray.

Depression can follow closely behind. The isolation that comes with being the one who "always knows" can be crushing. Add to that the responsibility you feel for the knowledge you carry. Add the guilt when you can't or don't warn someone effectively. It's a recipe for mental health struggles.

Studies have shown that highly sensitive people are more prone to anxiety and depression. This often correlates with those who have strong discernment. When you add the spiritual component of supernatural discernment, that tendency can intensify.

I think a lot of my anxiety is driven by my gift of discernment. And I don't think we talk about it enough in the church. We talk about gifts people have, but we don't talk about how those gifts can affect your mental health.

The Bible doesn't sugarcoat the reality of spiritual gifts. In fact, it acknowledges that they come with responsibility and sometimes struggle.

1 Corinthians 12:10 lists discernment as one of the gifts of the Spirit: "to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues."

1 John 4:1 tells us why this gift is necessary: "Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are of God; because many false prophets have gone out into the world."

Hebrews 5:14 shows us that discernment can be developed: "But solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."

And perhaps most importantly, Isaiah 55:8-9 reminds us that God's ways are higher than our ways: "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways," says the Lord. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts."

Sometimes the weight we feel is simply the weight of seeing things from God's perspective. We live in a world that operates from human understanding.

So how do we carry this gift without letting it crush us? Here's what I've learned, often the hard way.

Set boundaries. You don't have to share every insight you receive. Sometimes God gives you discernment for your own protection or so you can pray more effectively. Not so you can become the neighborhood prophet.

Find your people. Seek out others who understand spiritual gifts. You need at least one person in your life who won't look at you like you've grown a second head when you share what you're seeing.

I started texting my visions and what I hear from the Lord to my sisters Shardae and Camille. I always say it's so I can have a witness. But if I'm being honest? Sometimes it's because I NEED SOMEONE TO KNOW THAT I AM NOT CRAZY. When you're seeing and hearing things that others aren't, you need that one person who will receive it without making you feel like you've lost your mind. Find your Shardae or Camille. Find someone who gets it.

Ground yourself in Scripture. When the world feels crazy and you're questioning what you're seeing, God's Word becomes your anchor. Let it shape and confirm your discernment.

Practice self-care. This isn't just bubble baths and face masks, though those are nice too. This is recognizing that carrying spiritual weight requires spiritual strength. Rest, pray, worship. And don't apologize for needing more downtime than others.

Remember it's a gift, not a curse. Even on the hardest days, even when you feel like you'd rather be blissfully ignorant like everyone else, remember that God trusted you with this gift for a reason.

If you're reading this and thinking, "Finally, someone gets it," let me tell you something. You're not crazy. You're not cursed. You're not alone.

Your gift of discernment, as heavy as it sometimes feels, is exactly that. A gift. God doesn't make mistakes with His gifts, even the complicated ones. Even the ones that sometimes feel more like burdens than blessings.

The world needs people who can see truth in the midst of deception. Who can discern what's really happening beneath the surface. Who can pray with insight and wisdom. The church needs you, even when it doesn't always know how to handle you.

Jeremiah 1:12 says, "You have seen well, for I am ready to perform My word." God sees your discernment. He validates what you're seeing. And He's faithful to act on His truth.

So lean into the gift, even when it's hard. Find ways to steward it well. And remember that the same God who gave you eyes to see also promises to give you strength to carry what you see.

After all, He never gives us more than we can handle. Even when it sure feels like it sometimes.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." - Proverbs 3:5-6