I see pain every day. I empathize with anguish on a weekly basis.  I’ve driven away from an old man in the middle of the night with his companion of 65 years in my care.  I’ve stood next to a dad as he’s tried to figure out how his son’s car went off the road. I’ve held the hand of a 6 year old as he said goodbye to his momma. And I’ve helped momma’s rock babies that they’ll never get to take home.  I see pain. I hear pain.  I feel pain.  But very few situations compare to the family who is grieving over someone who took their own life.

When someone we love passes away, it leaves a huge hole.  One that simply can’t be filled…one that doesn’t need to be filled.  I’ve seen many who have attempted to ignore death, and “get on with life” as quickly as possible.  But I think it’s healthier to stop and acknowledge that life will NEVER be the same.

There are many different ways to lose a loved one.  People slip into eternity after long illnesses, some from an unexpected health issue, and others from sudden accidents.  Not to diminish these types of losses in any way, but typically we can take these scenarios and answer a few specific questions…like when and where; how and why.  In contrast, those left behind when someone takes their own life are left to grapple with the one question that they we’ll probably never find the answer to…WHY?

Why would he do something like this? Why didn’t she say anything? Were there warning signs, and why didn’t I see them?

The first funeral I ever preached was for a young man who took his life. I was 22 years old and had just begun pastoring here in Hot Springs. I was confronted with suicide in the ministry, but it has been my work as a funeral director that has expanded my experience to literally dozens and dozens of lives that ended too early. I have learned that suicide is no respecter of persons. I’ve been called out in the middle of the night to respond to some of the darkest corners of Hot Springs, where drugs have ravaged the soul of someone who had so much promise; and I’ve responded to some of the biggest mansions on the lake, where life simply got too hard for someone who seemingly had everything. I’ve preached the funerals of teenagers, while parents grappled with why someone so young would bring them to this place. And I’ve preached the funerals of the elderly, while grandkids tried to process that grandma didn’t want to be here anymore.

Death can evoke so many emotions…sadness, despair, emptiness, depression, confusion. But suicide evokes emotions that aren’t typically present when someone dies. Guilt and rejection are debilitating ingredients that are added to the mix. Guilt can be overwhelming. I feel like every time I sit across the table from a family to make arrangements for someone who has taken their life, the conversation comes to a point where I find myself looking them in the eye and assuring them, “This is not your fault.” Families are tormented by thoughts of, “if only I had…”, “why didn’t I…”, “I should have…”. And then the rejection sets in. Why wasn’t our relationship enough? Was I not reason enough to live?

I’ve often heard people say how selfish suicide is. That’s really easy to say when you aren’t the one in the darkness. Do you realize that people can be in a place of such despair that they are completely oblivious of how their impending action would affect others? I’m convinced that there are no easy answers for dealing with suicide because there can be sooooo many factors. Mental health, drugs, alcohol, financial strain, relationship trouble, terminal illness, abuse by someone in a trusted position, diminished self-worth, bullying…these are all things that can drive someone to the edge of eternity.

When someone in our family commits suicide, it can cause us to isolate.  People don’t know what to say to us, they don’t know if they should even bring it up.  It feels like something that is so rare, that people don’t know how to reach out.  Do you know that it’s not rare?  Every 14 minutes someone commits suicide.  That means there are A LOT of people who are exactly where you are today, trying to figure out how to move forward with life.

I’m not an expert.  I’m just Andrew.  Preacher, Funeral Director, Friend…who has been close to a greater number of suicides than most.  So, the following is just a few ideas I’ve jotted down while dealing with the issue.

• This is not your fault. If you knew it was coming to this, you would have done something.
• It was not “their time.” That’s why it hurts so much.  The writer of Ecclesiastes asks, “Why should you die before your time?”  It’s ok to acknowledge this, and I believe it’s a healthy way to validate your pain.
• Celebrate their assets and not their flaws. Our funeral home does everything we can to put their life on display because we know how important it is.  On days when you feel like you can’t get out of bed, think about the things they did that made you smile, or the things they said that made you laugh.
• Talk, talk, and talk some more. Do not erase them from your daily conversation.  Their life was worth something.  So much so, that they left a gaping hole in your heart.  Their story deserves to be told, and nobody knows it like you do.
• And finally, if anyone is reading this blog and having thoughts of suicide, I want you to be aware that you are in good company. How do I know the depths of despair that could bring someone to end their life? Because I’ve been there.  People I love have been there.  And it’s by the Grace of God that I’m still here today.  Moses said, “Kill me, I pray thee.”  Elijah sat down under a juniper tree and requested for himself that he might die.  Job said, “My soul chooses strangling and death.”  I have two things in common with Moses, Elijah, and Job.  #1. We’ve battled thoughts of suicide.  #2.  We chose life. 

You know what I’ve found out.  Life doesn’t always go our way.  Sometimes because of our own stupid decisions, and other times because of the decisions of others.  But LIFE IS WORTH LIVING.  YOUR life is worth living.  God’s grace is bigger than our hang-ups.  His love is greater than our burdens.  And our storm doesn’t make him any less worthy to be praised.

My first funeral that I mentioned earlier; 22 years old with no life experience to guide me through this process, the Lord gave me a scripture to share with that family, and it’s a scripture that I’ve shared with every family since who is walking a similar path…

Psalms 61:2  From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

-AG