PSALMS 30: 5- “Weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning”
Night time and morning seem to be the worst One all is quiet, no ones around that’s, when it hurts
The thoughts run endlessly, emotions running wild Inside I feel so afraid of them, like a small child
I try to distract myself , I do the best I can Knowing when I fall asleep, the cycle will repeat itself again
I have to climb out of it all over again, it makes me really tired But life doesnt stop moving, I push forward and I smile
It satisfying to have a purpose, yet doesnt diminish the pain But I cant run from it, because it makes me feel drained
One moment at a time, I surrender my tears to the Lord Knowing if I remain faithful, joy is my reward
Joy comes in the morning, his promises are true My God, my father, I simply trust in you
I rely on your grace to get me through the day Trusting that the joy will come, just maybe not today
You’ve got me, my times are in your hand You understand my questioning, when I simply dont understand
I grab your hand and hold it tight, we walk together through this valley I will come out singing, with buckets of water for others, it’s my personality
For now my job is to heal, you put me on a shelf I’m learning to be okay with that, it is for my health
Thank you lord for helping me get through today I am not alone, you walk with me, I’m going to be okay
Over the last 2 and ½ years I’ve endured physical pain. It began in my shoulder. That’s where the pain was felt, so that the part of the body that was treated. I went through several rounds of physical therapy, yet the pain continued. Following the orders of the doctors, the pain persisted. Over time it progressed and I became desperate for relief. I remember crying in the doctor’s office as he sat and gave his explanation for it. I’ve heard everything from it being muscular, poor posture, etc. I put my hope in them believing what each doctor prescribed and was still in pain. So I kept searching for a remedy, kept knocking, kept pursuing as God led me to know there was “an expiration date “ for it. So I pressed. As a result of their knowledge or lack thereof as “they practiced medicine as best as they knew how”, one doctor ordered an MRI of my neck. What was revealed was a minimal disc protrusion and a degenerative disc. I was told this was the offender for my pain and was basically told I’d have to live with it. I was offered pain medicine and refused it, because I wasn’t about tricking my brain into telling me that I wasn’t in pain. I was more concerned with getting to the root of the problem because I knew there was one. I wanted a permanent fix for it, not a dependency on pain medicine. We went through rounds of tests, EMG which did not reveal any nerve damage initially. Thank God for women in the field of medicine who actually listen with an empathetic ear. I began rounds of epidurals. They helped temporarily, but the pain kept coming back. So here I was back at square one, no relief for the nerve pain or muscle spasm. I became exhausted and desperate for the pain to stop. I bought every gadget known to man, pillow, balm, massage, chiropractic care, anti-inflammatory, changed my diet, etc. You name it I tried, I exhausted every option. I treated and managed the symptoms as best I could, while the nerve root was still offended. Work became unbearable and I became depressed because I could no longer do the things I enjoyed. Simple things like paint, throw a ball, exercise, cast a rod, etc. My life became managing pain, working and coming home to lie down on a heating pad for the remainder of the day.
I succumbed, threw in the towel and removed myself from work because I couldn’t do it anymore. The world doesn’t stop because you are in pain, bills still need to be paid, and that’s the bottom line. I had to decide fearfully, to stop the world because I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. Yet here we are still managing the house as I sit and write. I’ve been out of work for 7 months and our bills are still being met. But God and being a good steward of money. I’m amazed at how little we can live off of and how material things have no meaning to me anymore. I want relationships and memories! Thank god he stripped me.
I continued to knock on the doors of the medical field, desperate to find a permanent answer for temporary pain. The victory came, when the pain management doctor ordered another EMG and my pain was finally validated on paper! I was never happier to see that there was evidence of nerve damage on a document. I googled everything, which you shouldn’t do by the way. But I learned more than I care to know about the human body. The little bulge on the MRI caused muscle atrophy, to the extent that my shoulders became uneven. I compensated on my left for my right was lacking.
Now with the documentation in hand, I was faced with the decision to pursue surgery. Not just any, it was my spine! My neck! One of the most vulnerable places on your body. I was scared, yet I prayerfully continued moving forward. I already saw 2 surgeons , who denied me and said the pain was not nerve related. That basically, I had to learn to live with it. That was completely unacceptable! They made me feel like I was crazy! So I set my prayerful path to find a surgeon, not knocking on one door, but several. I read reviews, researched and became my own advocate and had to stay in network because let’s face it, money is the bottom line!
My husband Angel and I went together and sat patiently waiting of the verdict. This doctor was different. He was meek, compassionate and self assured. He patiently went through the MRI and examined it with a fine tooth comb. I wasn’t prepared for his response, but he had the solution. He walked us through the MRI and even acknowledged how it could have been overlooked. He blew up the image and showed us where the nerve root exited and how it was encroached by the “minimal disc protrusion” He offered two solutions; an artificial disc replacement or a fusion. I asked what he recommended and he suggested the ADR because it preserves the natural motion of the spine and doesn’t cause the discs above and below to be jeopardized. I was shocked and afraid, but signed the papers none the less to move forward. I came to the absolute end of myself to manage pain and signed up to fix the root of the problem. I was afraid and angry with God because I knew that he could fix me, I had no doubt. We don’t get to decide how God chooses to heal us, but sometimes we have to take the hard road.
There I lay, April 23rd, arrived at the hospital at 6:30 am. Went into the pre-op room, while my husband and mom tracked me on the computer software. While in pre-op the staff allowed my family to sit by my side. Their faces reflected compassion and fear. Up until this moment, I was still praying and believing God. If this is not your will, shut the door. Anxiety is real, but God is bigger. The surgeon enters the room, greeting us warmly with a gentle smile, fully assured and confident in his skills yet delicate enough to address the family with compassion assuring them that I was in good hands. I can’t explain it, but when he walked into the room, the peace of God filled my heart and mind. (Philippians 4:7) I knew I was right where I needed to be and told the nurse to give my husband anxiety medicine for his anxiety. This wasn’t minor. Not to be too graphic but he was pushing my esophagus and voice box over, removing the old disc, replacing it with a new one and sewing me back up! The risk was real, but peace! Surgery went well; I woke up in recovery in a lot of pain but was later released at 12 noon! I was on my way to recovery and still am in the process, we will save that for a later writing.
Recovery required patience, rest, being still, and honestly all the things I lacked. While the physical healing was underway nothing prepared me for the emotional part of it. All of my vices were stripped and I just had to wait to recover and had to be taken care of. God, Netflix, visitors who would pop in, Sudoku, taking short walks was what I was left with. It was hard from being someone is dependent and getting things done, to sit and be taken care of. One of the biggest life lessons I needed humble pie and how to ask for help.
Meanwhile, as I lay recovering my brother Rob was struggling with his own issues and there was nothing I could do but pray, He was facing a court case and was going to lose his license for 2 years because he had overdosed on heroin at the wheel of his truck. It wasn’t his first overdose but his 4th. This time he faced serious consequences. Knowing I couldn’t, help him physically or be with him was probably one the hardest things I had to do. I had to let him go physically but kept believing God for his miracle. I knew he was drowning and I had to heal. It was difficult. Meanwhile while trying to care of myself I began sinking into a pit of depression myself.
This was the first year that I had to walk through my birthday, which was also my fathers, his death anniversary and fathers day on the same day. All of this in the same week. Actually just 2 days apart. June 14th is our birthday and June 16th was father’s day and the day he ended his own life. I had zero distractions! No coping skills to run from it, I couldn’t bury myself in work or take care of someone else, lift heavy weight to deal with the anger, clean, cook; I just had to sit and feel. It sucked!
The pain came in like a category 4 hurricane! Meanwhile in the weeks leading up to it, I decided to lower my dose of Zoloft for treating my own depression. See not many people know about the major depressive episodes I’ve had or the catatonic states, where I lost jobs, couldn’t eat, sleep or function because I hid that. I went 3 days without sleep and felt like I was on the verge of losing my mind. It’s real people. I’m not talking about a sad feeling; I’m referring to the ability to function. There is a complete difference. The ability to sit in front of the TV and be able to focus. Its chemical, it’s not shameful.
Like many others who suffer the same battle, I struggled with pride. I’d take medicine and feel good, then decide to lower my dose just to prove to myself I didn’t need it. I shouldn’t need medication for my mind; it’s a sign of weakness. So I suppose I had something to prove to myself by managing my depression or chemical imbalance if you will. A lie! There is no shame! I need medication; actually my brain needs it and always will. I no longer have to wrestle with myself when I know damn well I need it. If you don’t believe it, look at my family history. You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free. Depression ran on both sides of our family. So like a seed, I gather 2 seeds from each parent. One from my dad and one from my mom. There I was the seed of my parents. No shame! If someone struggled with diabetes in your family would you suggest to them to stop taking insulin? Same thing, only my brain needs it to shut off, focus, sleep, eat and regulate everyday life. Never again will I question on how God decides to heal me. For me it’s in the form of a pill.
Knowing and coming to terms with all of this doesn’t take the pain of losing my brothers and my fathers. That is something I still have to walk out. The reality of loss is still there. Yet another tragedy occurred. The days leading up to Rob’s death were hard on us both. The pain of losing a parent to suicide is one that is very personal. It comes at the expense of feeling abandoned, rejected, shame that maybe I wasn’t worth sticking around for, or maybe I let them down and wasn’t good enough to live for. It’s personal and not something I’d wish for anyone to ever have to endure. Before I can ever empathize with my father and his personal issues, I have to deal with the pain that suicide leaves on surviving children. It is extremely hard! Almost impossible to separate the two. Yet every father’s day, birthday, and anniversary day is a painful reminder that he chose not to stay. But God! I can only stand because of my relationship with him and walking in forgiveness as he has forgiven me. Making every effort to walk in peace in spite of any offense. It’s a gift for me.
My heavenly father helps me walk through these hard times, one moment at time, capturing my tears in a bottle. This wasn’t God’s will for me. It began with Adam and Eve and the fall of man. His intent for all our lives was to enjoy a relationship with him. With the fall of man came heavy consequences. Free will can be a curse or a blessing. I chose to be a blessing, yet suffering the consequences of other’s choices.
Resiliency comes in the form of a rubber band. It’s stretched sometimes beyond and goes back to original shape once it’s released. It’s not magic. I’m not special. What God does for me, he can do the same for you. That requires free will, choice, and surrendering pain. That’s how I’m here, nothing short of a miracle. Miracle defined in the dictionary; “a surprising and welcomed event that is unexplainable by natural laws and is therefore to be considered the work of a divine agency”. My life can’t be explained, truth be told I shouldn’t be here. By all laws of nature I should be buried 6 feet under or in a psychiatric ward, BUT GOD!
God who reached down and knocked on my door at the age of 5 and invited me to come to church. It all began with a knock at the door, from our friendly little neighborhood. Here stood a family, who welcomed us to the neighborhood and extended an invitation for all of us to come to church. I was immediately drawn to them and accepted their invitation. They exuded so much warmth and love, and I grabbed a hold of their hand and walked with them to the place of safety that I plead for. Every Sunday they would pull up the same driveway that caused panic, but their van was labeled hope. While no one else in the family responded for their own reasons, I did. I can still recall waking up excited to put on my Sunday school dress, stockings and dress shoes and happily got into their mini-van, while being mocked by my two older brothers and father because they though church was corny. My mom on the other hand, didn’t say much but afforded the opportunity to let me go. It was my decision and the best decision I made in my entire life.
Fast forward a few years later when my mom decided to turn her will over to God. She showed me two very valuable life lessons. Number 1; its okay not be okay and ask for help. Either through counsel or medication. Lesson number 2: pursue god with everything you have and don’t reach for alcohol to numb pain but confront it. She was and is my role model, my captain. I simply followed her example as the teacher and I became her student. Wherever she went I followed. She led me then and continues to lead me now with her strength and reliance in God. Her faith in God is immovable and is faithful beyond, with heart full of compassion. She is also a miracle and has her own story to tell, but I will proudly boast of her because she is my hero on this earth. Because of her example through difficult times, I feel the pain, accept that I need medication, pursue god to heal my wounds and trust that he will continue to carry me through. Against all odds we are here speaking in the midst of the storm about the goodness of God and how great his love is.
The 3 rules of preschool look; listen and learn. I’m not special, what God has done for me, he can do for you. I can’t speak for my brothers or my father because number 1- “I’m not a man and number 2- I’ve never battled with a serious drug addiction. What I know for certain is that we emulate and look up to our same sex parent as a role model. I’m thankful I’m a girl, who didn’t have it easy, but had a shining example of Christ’s love here on earth.
During the days leading up to my father’s birthday, anniversary and father’s day, the pain became unbearable. No distractions, no work, to add value or worth to myself, just pain. Unbearable pain! I couldn’t run from it, I had to express it. My birthday is supposed to be a day of celebration, but every year is a painful reminder that my father chose to die. This year I wanted to run, to medicate and to numb the pain. I knew that wasn’t an option because it only prolongs it, eventually it has to be felt. Many tears were shed, the painful moments lying awake at night, feeling alone in my pain. Wanting to sleep but couldn’t, anxiety and anticipation of the date was far worse than the actual pain itself. As times in the past, I grabbed my bear and called mom. Her voice calmed me and let me know I wasn’t alone in the middle of the night. She was up for work. Something she does exceptionally well. If I heard her voice, I knew I’d be okay.
So I made it through my birthday, painfully so but I did. I managed to cry and laugh at the same time. Along came the next dates, father’s day and his anniversary date. I went to church, wept at the altar and decided I wanted to release a balloon to my dad in heaven. So that’s just what I did with my husband. After releasing the balloon we came home to sit and relax. There came a knock at the door. It was the police. I didn’t think for a moment it was about Rob, because I knew God had him. He preserved his life 6 times over and he was in control of the situation. I had no doubt.
Here in lies free will, but let’s not question the sovereignty of god either. He proved to me that 7 times over that he was in control and kept bringing Rob back to life. Yet here is the officer at the door telling me he was found dead at the wheel, was revived for the seventh time and was still alive. He fought a strong and courageous battle with heroin. Make no mistake about it, he was a force. But what got him in the end was his inability to deal with pain. He didn’t want to be high; he wanted relief from the pain and not to feel it. So that’s what he decided to do. That last bag led him overdosed behind the wheel for the third time. Not because he wanted to get high, but because he didn’t want to feel the pain of losing my father. The only difference between him and I was picking up the first bag.
When he started back in his early 20’s I was 18 years old. I sat and watched and began to get curious about how it made him feel. I thought to myself it must feel good, because he looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. So I asked him if he could bring me home a bag so I could find out for myself. He did. He brought it home and gave it to me. I held that bag in my hand staring at it with curiosity and panic at the same time. After much thought, I decided to flush it down the toilet because the fear that came over me paralyzed me. It had to be the sovereign hand of God. I was much too afraid and kept up with the other common drugs like weed and alcohol. I experimented like kids do and fortunately for myself I didn’t cross that line. But I was right there, that valley of decision. One choice away.
What saved my life was my first major depressive episode; it led me to counseling where I began to heal. After my mom and I moved from Hammonton to Franklinville, I sank into a pit and was swallowed up in a hole so deep that left me catatonic. My mom left work and ten hours later returned, where I lay in the same spot where I was when she left. She was worried, but had to pay the bills. So one day she was on her way to counseling and invited me. She gently said, “Nichole, I’m going to counseling, would you like my last half hour?” I simply nodded in agreement and went. For the first 3 visits and sat in that chair and cried, didn’t speak a word. My counselor just said, “So you’re sad huh?” I nodded and agreed. Didn’t speak. I had no words. He offered me tissues and I kept going back. One day he asks, “Nichole what do you see good about yourself?” I looked at him and said, “Nothing”. I believed at the time there was nothing good about me. He responded, “Well I do, you want to be healed and you keep coming back.” I took that and ran with it. His office provided a safe place for me to cry and talk. What I needed to do. It became my mission to become well for my brothers. They were sinking and it was my mission to rescue them. I said to myself, I’m going to show them the way out. Drugs aren’t it! I became determined like a bull. Taking one step at a time, every painful step closer to my emotional healing, but I was fighting for them, not myself. I needed a greater cause and they were it! That sealed my fate, their life gave me purpose. I sit here broken feeling like I survived by why? In the natural I feel like I failed them, but we don’t grieve as the world does.
Eternally they are well; eternally they are whole, free from addiction, free from pain. They came to know Christ. They did follow me as I followed my mom, who followed Christ. Where do I go from here? I’ve succumb to God, “Lord if we don’t do something with the pain of their loss and the pain I’ve endured than it’s wasted. ” I educate! It’s what I do. I educate others about real life issues. Do you know what my full married name is? Nichole- “Victorious heart of the people”, Christine- “Christian”, DeJesus- “Of God”. Put it all together, victorious Christian heart of god for the people”. Was made for purpose, I was made on purpose: Psalms 139. He has equipped with every tool I need like a well skilled carpenter. He fashioned me in my mothers womb with the gift of expression through writing, speaking, singing, dancing painting , teaching. He has invested so much in me and created me. It’s an honor and a privilege to bring these gifts back to him for his glory. What’s his will? That all would have ever lasting life, and that none should perish John 3:16.
That’s just what I will do! Speak the truth in love, be quick to listen and slow to speak, keeping peace, walking in love and giving others mercy rather than judgment. My final conversation with my brother Rob was this, “Know that I love you. I know the pain is unbearable. I’m sinking myself. I don’t want to die; I want the pain to end, but in order to move forward I have to feel it. I understand why you do drugs, to numb the pain. This is a turning point for you just like Daddy; you have to surrender to God.” He said, “I feel like a failure, I want to die and I don’t want die” I said, “I know you don’t want to die to you want the pain to stop!” One decision based on a temporary feeling sealed his fate. It wasn’t his life to take. It never is. He was facing a jail sentence, 10 years loss of license and saw no way out. I simply stated, “You have to surrender it to God.” He said, “I don’t know how.” I replied, “You have to put yourself in places where he is”. See he already knew all of this. He walked it out to some extent, but he chose to walk his way. He fought up until the very end. His coping device left him with a sentence. He always shared his truth with me. He said, it ends two ways when you use drugs, “Death or prison”. In the end heroin led him to his death, but not facing the pain is really why it ended. At the heart of suicide is not sin people! It’s not about whether they believe in God or don’t, it’s simply about wanting the pain to end. God’s mercy triumphs over judgment. While all 3 struggled with addiction, isolation, depression and an in ability to cope in a healthy way, all 3 knew Christ.
The bottom line? Well I don’t like it. It means they are not here and I am. Left to walk in this life with both sorrow and joy. However, we don’t; grieve as the world does. They have all been restored. You have a day that you are born and a day that God chooses for your death. You decide the dash in between and what you do with it. I’ve never not had hope, even now. I know that the pain is temporary, that I have to feel it, write about it, cry, and move forward. That’s resiliency. It’s not magical; it’s feeling the pain and feeding your faith. Faith is the supernatural part that requires our surrender. I’m choosing to be transparent about my life in the hope to give someone else hope. To speak life, allowing my pain to be seen for purpose and on purpose! For nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8: 31-39). Not death, not suicide. God gives us all a measure of faith, what we chose to do with it is up to us. He gives us a seed, we get to water it and take care of it. What happens when those seeds are covered with shame, depression, anxiety, addiction and sunlight can’t break through? Hopelessness and the desire not to die but for the pain to end because there is no other way out but to die! There is no shame in these feelings; the only shame is suffering in silence.
I can’t relate, try as I might, I’ve always had hope. The only thing I can relate it to is nerve pain. I was willing to do anything, go anywhere, buy gadgets, balms, etc to make the pain stop! I was desperate! I had to get to the root of it. I couldn’t ignore it; it paralyzed me, robbed me, and took my life away. What is the root of your pain? Those are the things between you and your maker. These other things we do to manage pain and cope like, drugs, smoking, drinking, eating, gossiping, lusting, porn, anger, unforgiveness, bitterness, jealousy, shopping, gambling, helping others, achievements, pleasing people, are all vices to cope! We all have them. So don’t take out your sin-o-meter and weigh them out feeling self righteous like yours isn’t as bad as someone else who has an addiction to drugs. No one grows up and says “I want to be a heroin addict or a prostitute!” Far be it from me to judge anyone but owe nothing but love! That’s my burden, that’s my cause love! It is by grace that are reconciled with God (Ephesians 2:8-9) It is a gift. Gifts are received not worked for or earned. We don’t earn our seat the table by being righteous people. We are there because Jesus died for us. He did what we couldn’t’ do for ourselves. Our obedience to God comes out his love for us, knowing that he has a good plan for our life. If we follow his commands, then we will have a good life. It’s not judgment, its love. He loves us as we are, right where we are. He doesn’t clean a fish before he catches it, he doesn’t want you to look neat and clean to be accepted. He accepts you as you are. As Christians who have walked with him a while, tend to get a little righteous and indignant as well. Church hurt is real, and so are people. People are flawed and misrepresent a loving God as I’m sure I do too. That’s not the point. He wants to walk by your side through his life, surrounding you with goodness and mercy. Greater than that he wants do life with you and spend eternity with you. He is a gentleman. You have to open the door to let him in. It’s the best decision I ever made?
Let’s face it, I won’t sugarcoat anything. As an educator, I consider any circumstance that comes into my life a lesson to be learned. The burden of a student is to learn, while the burden of a teacher is facilitate the lesson. Only students can satisfy their requirement. I play both roles basically, they always coincide. In life, we never stop learning. We continuously evolve and adapt to new roles, always learning. At least I do, I can only speak for me.
Having said, any situation, good or bad, presents itself as an opportunity to learn, to glean and to grow. It’s a gift I inherited from an early age and thrived in school. I’ve always enjoyed learning and consider it a life long journey. The day I stop learning, is like death to me. It’s an insatiable need to for knowledge and wisdom. A gift from my maker! As an educator in the field of life, I have both a burden, as well as an honor and privilege to share, to teach and to educate. I’d like to share with you my experiences and what I’ve learned and continue to learn. It’s never over. It’s always a process. If you do not like what I have share, then by all means don’t read it. Truthfully it doesn’t matter to me. It’s my burden to teach, it’s your responsibility to learn.
My burden to teach comes at the expense of a heavy heart and a lot of tragedy. We have faced many challenges in our family and a lot of pain. I intentionally decide not to hide it but to share it as my gift to others. I talk about real stuff, messy people and who God is in the midst of it all. It’s my cross to carry and I carry it with honor, dignity and pain. So if it means for me to bear my wounds to you, then I’m all about it. In lieu of the pain that I have suffered, I consider it a teachable moment. It’s one of my coping skills. So no matter what the situation, no matter what the cost I bring it before God and say, “Lord I have no control over what comes into my life, I can only choose how I respond to it all. How can I learn from this situation?” Romans 8:28 “For we know all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose” It doesn’t say something’s, it says ALL. However there is a burden on our part. That is the response to surrender to the process. Surrendering pain to God exactly where I am at any given moment, allowing him to sort through it as we work together. As I cooperate with him, he heals my pain and we work through it. It doesn’t go away, but we walk together. As we walk together, I learn how sorrow and joy co-exist. That you really can’t have one without the other. To know true joy, you have to know and understand sorrow.
And I ask, “God what is the purpose of all this pain in my life, of losing three of the most important men in my life from my childhood to suicide?” Is it to grow, to learn, to share? My resolve is, God if we don’t use this pain for your purposes than its all in vain. I devote every ounce of my being to take care of what you have bestowed to me. My role that will never change no matter what is to be the daughter of my eternal father in heaven. As his daughter, he wants me whole. It’s a process and a lifelong adventure. As a gardener we take care of the weeds, so that I may continue to bear fruit in spite of all of the weeds. There are no simple answers to educate others about the truth of suicide and the mark that it leaves on the surviving members of the family. For surviving family members that comes in many forms. The biggest one is SILENCE! We dare not talk about it. If we talk about it we accept what some may call “the unforgivable sin” At least in a community of believers.
For those who don’t believe, we take their shame as well, in the form of judgment. What’s wrong with that family? What’s inherited in their family line that this keeps happening? And so what happens is the remaining survivors are left with either trying to keep it under the carpet and move on it, not dealing with it or feeling isolated with no one to share it with. I pray every day, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. At the end, I’m only responsible for myself. How I respond to the pain is my decision. At times it is unbearable because there are very few people whom I can share it, who simply just have the ability to listen. Not to judge or give me a quick fix or a band aid, offering some piece of information that satisfies their need to want to help the situation. I don’t seek for anyone to fix me; I’m not a puzzle to be solved. I need someone with a real heart of compassion and two big dumbo ears to listen and a mouth that seldomly speaks, “I’m so sorry” and two arms to wrap them around me and just hold me. It’s a rare find. But I have them, my crew! They are more valuable than anything in this earth and I can count them on one hand. I’m grateful for each and every one them! The true heart of Christ in human form, a rare gem if you will.
But God! He accepts me always, as I am, with no judgment. Bearing my soul and surrendering my pain is the serenity part of it. The courage portion is birthed out of my desire to teach. I am compelled to share and educate. I have a burden for people, messy people. My burden was and is birthed out of losing my brother Rick, my father and my oldest brother Rob to suicide. The burden of truth is this “They didn’t want to die; they wanted their pain to end”. I don’t want to die either; I would like the pain to end; however that’s not on my terms but his. Joy and pain will always co-exist in my life and I’m learning to be okay with that. I’m also okay with acknowledging the faith that I have, others admire it, desire it. It can’t be rubbed off on someone else; I’m not the answer to your child’s issues or the anecdote to your own insecurities or flaws. I’m simply me, while my faith can be admired, that’s okay. The truth of it is, if you want the faith that I’ve got, you also have to endure the pain I’ve experienced and persevered through and surely you don’t want to walk in these flip flops for they were created for me. Simply follow me, as I follow him. That’s it, the only certainty I have. If you know me, you know where to find me. Kneeling at the altar, pouring out my heart to my father in pure surrender.
I’ve always had hope, even now as I walk through the valley now. I know beyond any doubt or fear, my greatest victories are yet to come. Feelings are temporary, meant to be expressed and felt. The challenge of having faith in these moments gets conflicted because faith isn’t dependent on our feelings. Faith is dependent on being fed. Romans 10:17 Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God. My burden in losing the 3 men of my youth is to express the pain, acknowledge it and continue to feed my faith daily, with the confidence in knowing that God will work this out for my good, when I take responsibility for myself. For when this life is over, we will each give an account of our own life and our works will be tested through the fire 1 Corinthians 3:13. This means, not casting judgment on others. This world would be a better place if we each took responsibility for our own actions. The reality for me has been free will. My pain comes at the expense of others, yet I will continue to choose life. Maybe I can’t change the world, but if I can change the life of one person my job is done! For God leaves the 99 to go after the 1! I am imperfect like you, saved by grace.
IN DEEP WATERS 