Skip to main content

Response to a Tragedy

Six months ago, I was on the brink of suicide.  So much had happened in so short a time that I could not cope.  I had struggled with depression for so long that in the face of new trauma, I could see no other way out.  By the grace of God, I stopped midway through the act.

Today, I received the news that a close friend of mine lost his sister to suicide.  She had been struggling with depression for years and it finally claimed her life.  I have been to the edge and back again.  Now, I see a different side of it - the side of my friends and family had my decision that crucial day been fully realized.

The question those left behind ask the most, I think, is, "Why?"  Why would a beautiful flower like her feel the need to end it all?  Why are the rest of us left here to suffer?  Why did God not stop her?  What was it that outweighed her desire to remain with those that loved her?  Was there anything we could have done to stop her?  To prevent this awful tragedy?

Anger is not far behind.  Thinking about this issue growing up, my lack of understanding often turned to a hot, hurt judgement of those who would choose to take their own life.  How could they have such a lack of love and respect for those left behind?  How could they be so selfish and cause their loved ones such pain?  Did they not think about the agony and suffering they would leave in the wake of their actions?

The cold, hard truth is: probably not.  It does not mean that they didn't love their friends and family.  While their final, devastating action is probably what most will remember about them for a time, it does not define who they were as a person.  Speaking from experience and subsequent education, whatever causes a person to commit suicide is not from them.  Depression masks a person's true identity and personality.  When people say, "I never would have thought that so-and-so would have committed suicide," they are right.  That person wouldn't - and didn't.

So why, then, are we grieving this beautiful young woman today?  I have no answer for that.  I don't think anyone ever will.  My experience tells me that she must have been hurting far beyond what most can even imagine.  In that moment, it must have seemed her only recourse.  No matter the reasons for her depression, no one will ever really know for sure why she felt that way.  I had one foot in the grave.  There are concrete explanations for my depression.  Yet I don't truly know why I felt that way either.

Life after 23, for me, seems to stretch down an endless stream of unknowns and empty dreams.  I have been struggling, even now, for a reason to go on.  In the face of this tragedy, I realize that it doesn't matter if the pages of my book are full or empty.  It doesn't matter how my book turns out.  What matters is others' books.  How can I help my friend through this awful time he is going through?  I don't know why this had to happen to him and his family.  Even though I almost went the way of his sister, I can't help him make sense of it any better than anyone else.  But I can be there for him.  I can take him to the foot of the Cross.  I can love him through it.  I can stop focusing on my book and focus on his - and others' - for a change.

For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ,  who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.


1 Thessalonians 5:9-11

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Enjoying Life After 23

I'd like to say that I finally found my writing materials that had been lost in the moving boxes, and that is why I am finally returning after my eight-and-a-half-month hiatus.  But in this age of technology and internet clouds, that can no longer be my excuse.  Food for thought in the examination of today's generation, but I digress. When I first started my short run at this blog last year, it was because I had never dared to plan or dream past age 23, and therefore had the feeling that, in a way, my life was over.  At least, my life as I had always imagined it was over.  I had just found out that bearing children - if that was even an option anymore - was unlikely without fertility treatments.  The only dream/goal I had allowed myself after age 23 was suddenly ripped out from under me and dangled somewhere ahead in the dark mist of the future, taunting me with the possibility that, even then, it was only a mirage. At the beginning of this blog, I ha...

According to Grace: Moses' Last Charge

So get this.  I'm reading in Deuteronomy for my devotional this morning, and I come across some food for thought that really has nothing to do with the devotional article's focus.  But there I am, with this cool new interpretation of Scripture that, honestly, I probably should have gotten before now. Anyway, the kicker for me this morning is Deut. 6:25, which says in the NLT, "For we will be counted as righteous when we obey all the commands the Lord our God has given us."  (For some context, Moses is addressing the nation of Israel with a final charge before he dies and the people enter the Promised Land.  More on that in the next post.)  Right off the bat, I think, "Oh, well this just describes the first part of the picture - the one where generations of Israelites (and a few converts) tried and failed miserably to earn salvation through works. This doesn't apply anymore."  After all, a good portion of Moses' entire charge is rules and regul...

Reading with an Empty Womb: Becoming a Villager

It's not their fault - the book authors, your friends, your study leader.  I understand that.  But it doesn't make the pain ease up at all.  Anyone else who has struggled with infertility knows what I'm talking about.  You sit down to read your devotional or (God forbid!) have a group Bible study, open your book, and at the top of the page: CHILDREN .  It doesn't matter what the rest of the title says, because that's the only word you see, staring up at you like a big red light that, by turns, is mocking you and judging you. You think, "That's it, I'm out.  This whole lesson doesn't apply to me."  Or perhaps wonder what is so wrong with you that God doesn't want you to raise children.  You maybe start comparing yourself to other moms in your study group, and before long, little seeds of resentment start to germinate as you think, "Why does she get to use this parenting knowledge and I don't? I mean, I'm better than her at ...