Luke was twenty-two.
Mark was just seventeen. Matthew was in his thirties when he strung a noose
around his neck.
All suicide
victims, and all men who had crossed my path. The names have been changed to
protect the privacy of their families.
Matthew
lived across the street from us for ten years. Newly divorced, he hung himself,
leaving behind two precious children, both under the age of ten. Mark was a
member of our church.
But Luke…Luke
was one of my son’s childhood friends, and although they hadn't connected since
middle school, he was my son's age, and finishing his senior year of college.
Close
friends admitted to being shocked and insisted they hadn’t seen this coming. He’d
never shown signs of depression. He was well-liked, made good grades, and his
whole glorious life stretched in front of him.
As a youngster,
Luke’s parents poured their lives into their boys. I know because I was with
them three nights a week for football practice and Saturday games, served
alongside his mom in PTAs, saw them out and about town for various school and
athletic events.
The pain,
the sorrow, the ache of empty arms and shattered dreams.
What
would make a father string a rope around his neck and kick a chair out from
under him? What would make a teenager stick a gun in his mouth and press the
trigger?
After more
than a half a century of living, I can vouch that time, while it may not necessarily
heal, lessens the pain. As a third-degree burn survivor, yes, the searing pain
eventually subsides. And, yes, those intense wounds of betrayal took years to
conquer and divorce is a long, lonely road, but now I’m married to my true
soulmate.
Why am I
sharing this?
To
whisper in your ear that …. You’re not alone. The God who created the universe loves
you with a forever love, something wide and deep and transcends time and understanding.
He’s placed families in your life who love you, people in your path who care
about you, and they will walk this road with you. Let them in. Let them help.
Maybe you’re
standing on a precipice, one foot dangling in the air, life or death just a step
away…and you take that step. What if there is a flash, a single moment of
clarity, where you regret your decision? Where you wish your life back?
What if you
could catch glimpses of your future? Perhaps you’d see your son or daughter all
grown up, holding your grandbaby in their arms? Or you’re huddling over a beautiful
wife who is gazing up at you with wonder and love in her eyes as she cradles a
newborn to her chest. What if you could see yourself in a new job, enjoying it
so much more than the one you lost? What if you could feel the sorrow in the
loved ones you’ll leave behind...their lives tattered and torn, a huge gaping
hole that only you could fill. Wondering what they could have done, what they could
have said, what they could have been…
The pain,
the sorrow, the ache of empty arms and shattered dreams.
God
has the power to weave a beautiful tapestry out of fragile strands of pain and suffering
and sorrow. God can take those dark places, those huge, gaping holes and fill
them with hope. He can take the pain and suffering, meld them into something
beautiful called joy.
I’ll
remember the cute little boy with honey colored curls. The giant of a man,
strong and powerful, who adored his kids. The tall, gangly teenager, not quite
boy, not quite man, surrounded by a loving family.
But
the families left behind…what will they remember?
The pain,
the sorrow, the ache of empty arms and shattered dreams.
I
pray that these three souls finally found the precious peace they sought and
for the God of all creation to wrap His arms of comfort around the loved ones
they left behind.
Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. ~Psalm 30:5 NLT