In the church that I grew up in, the Pastor used to use a particular phrase every now and then that pertained to those who struggled with depression, anxiety, etc. If the body can break, the mind can break too. That is to say that God made all of you. He made your legs, your arms, your organs, your mind... everything. We all accept that someone can break a leg or an arm. It happens all the time. We all accept that people can become sick, get cancer, have heart disease, etc. That happens all the time. And we have no problem acknowledging that God made these parts of you, yet they can break. Why then are there some who do not carry over this observation to the mind? Yes, God made your mind. But your mind can break too. You can become depressed. You can become anxious. You can have a chemical imbalance. You can become suicidal. It happens all the time. It happens to both Christians and non-Christians. This does not mean that God is at fault, and it does not mean that the person who is struggling with mental issues is at fault. If the worst happens and someone chooses suicide, it is important to remember that God gave us free will. Could He intervene and stop death from happening? Of course. There are testimonies of that happening. But a lot of the time, God allows it to happen. I don't understand it, but that's how it is. It is not ever, ever, ever God's will for someone to kill himself or herself (I'm not referring to the falling on the grenade to save everyone else type of suicide here, of course, but the one that comes out of despair), but because God is all-knowing, it is also not a surprise to Him when it happens, and it is something that He is able to fit into His plan.
Now that I have had the unfortunate experience of a friend taking his own life, I've seen firsthand what happens in the aftermath of a suicide. Family and friends grieving, crying, gathering together, unable to understand, asking why, and sometimes out loud but sometimes just thinking those two words... What if? What if I had called him? What if I had done this differently? What if I had done better at this or that? I could have made a difference. It was my fault that this happened. What if I had been a better friend? While this seems to be part of the normal grieving process for some, myself included, it also doesn't actually help anything to obsess over this. No one is perfect. We've all screwed things up. Repeatedly. But we don't know what would have happened if we had done things differently, and it's not our fault when suicide happens. The decision ultimately resided with only one person, and it's often not likely that we could have altered that decision, but blaming ourselves or blaming the person who made that decision does not get to the heart of the issue.
I've heard people who have said that suicide is selfish, and I don't believe that to be true. Yes, the people who suffer are the friends and family of the deceased, and for those who are Christians, if the deceased was a Christian, we know that he or she is in paradise, but that still doesn't take away the pain and sadness for those of us left here. Yet, I think most people who kill themselves think that they are actually doing a favor for their loved ones. They're not thinking that they get to go on to a better place and screw everyone else. They're not thinking that by doing this, they get to punish everyone who let them down and not have to deal with it themselves. Their minds are usually broken to a point where they are thinking that they just can't deal with life anymore, that they have failed, that everyone is better off without them. This is a deception from the very pit of hell. But sadly, like other things of that same origin, we often succumb to it. Satan wins battles, but he knows that he will ultimately lose the war.
So, with the past being gone, what can we do to help people who are struggling now or will struggle in the future? A lot. We can be there for them. We can tell people we love them more. We can hug them a little tighter. But sometimes we can tell who's hurting, and sometimes it's the ones we least expect. Sometimes the downfall is stark and swift, and other times it is gradual. When Robin Williams, my favorite actor, killed himself, I was in shock, as was most of the world. It was the only time in my entire life that I have ever cried when a celebrity--someone I did not personally know--died. This couldn't be right. Robin Williams was the funniest guy in the world. He made me laugh. He made me feel better. He did that for millions of people. He was Robin Williams, live on Broadway. He was John Keating. He was Patch Adams. He was Mrs. Doubtfire. He was Sean Maguire. He was Mork. You mean to tell me that that man killed himself? But he always made everyone around him smile, and he gave so much of himself to other people. People didn't even know a lot of his charitable works until stories surfaced after his death. How could someone like that, who had so much, had brought so much joy to others, and had so many things going for him, have thought that life was no longer worth living?
And then it becomes clear. Much like the (pictured) hidden rot in the house that was not discovered until the walls were taken down, he hid the hurt. And he did one hell of a job with that. I know because I do the same thing. No, I haven't been suicidal in my adult life, but I've been hurt. We all have. And I use the same weapon against it as Robin Williams did. Humor. I like to make people laugh. I like to make other people feel good. It's part of who I am. It makes me feel better when I make other people feel better, especially when I'm hurting or not feeling very good myself. My buddy who recently killed himself was similar to Robin Williams in several ways. He was funny, he was full of energy, and he was always doing things for other people. He had a lot going for him, and people didn't even know many of the things he quietly did for others until stories were shared after his death. Also, much like Robin Williams, he had a lot of body hair.
So what do we do going forward? We can talk about suicide, depression, anxiety, and mental illness. We can talk about this candidly in secular society and in church. We can talk about it and how to take away the stigma from these people. Yes, we need to do better with diagnosing and treating these people, but we should never look down on them. Yes, anti-depressant and anti-anxiety drugs are over-prescribed in this country, and they can often cause harm, but sometimes they are necessary, and sometimes they are helpful. But there are other things that can help too, depending on the situation. Let's acknowledge this. And let's talk about all of those uncomfortable subjects, both in society in general, and in church. These subjects aren't often talked about in certain settings, but they should be. Yes, let's talk openly about sex and all things sexual. Let's talk about eating disorders. Let's talk about rape. Let's talk about cutting. Let's talk about depression and anxiety. Let's talk about suicide.
Whether or not you believe in Jesus Christ as Savior is going to impact a lot of your views, including on suicide. So, to those of you who have not accepted Jesus as Savior (which I highly recommend considering and making an informed decision), I say that things are never so bad that you should decide to end it all. Your friends and family will be worse off, not better off, without you around. And if you and I are friends and you ever need someone to talk to about anything, I am here. And to those of you who are Christians, I would say the same thing, but also add this: Give over your burdens to God, and watch for Satan's attacks. He will try to get you to think that you are useless. That you are a failure. That you are a sorry excuse for a Christian. Satan will attack you when you are most vulnerable. God always provides a way out of making a wrong decision, but we fail God daily. We need to put on the full armor of God each and every day.
None of us are immune to anything. Humans are capable of terrible things, individually and collectively. A few years ago, I was talking with my Pastor about someone we both knew who had committed a crime against a child, and Pastor used the words, "There but for the grace of God go I." I immediately blurted out, "Well, not that." But it really made me think later on. No, not that, but only because of God's grace. There are other temptations that I struggle with, but I can fall into any temptation, even those actions that can impact people more than other actions. I was reminded of this conversation about a month ago, when I saw a video of Chris Christie discussing a successful friend of his who ending up getting addicted to drugs and ultimately died from an overdose. "There but for the grace of God go I." I looked up the origin of this phrase, because I didn't recall it from scriptures, and it's attributed to John Bradford, an English Reformer who lived (and was martyred) in the 1500s. Quite apt. Finally, I was reminded of this phrase once more, less than two weeks ago, when my friend, my Pastor's son, took his own life. We are all in the same boat. And I'll quote Christie's version of Bradford here, which includes a second pertinent sentence. "There but for the grace of God go I. It can happen to anyone."
Be the light in a dark world.
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