Day 55: The Joy Of Life And Death:
"This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don't be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." —Nehemiah 8:10
To sum up Anderson's lesson today, it's basically about making the most of our time here on earth, but also looking forward to the joy we will feel when we are reunited with God in heaven.
I like how sure Anderson is that the people he has loved in his life, those that have passed away, are, without question, in heaven. I wish I was as confident, though I believe I am becoming more so. I still feel uncertain about my step-brother Scott or my uncle. Both committed suicide. I feel uncertain about myself even (at times). I don't know what has lead me to believe that those who commit suicide are not going to heaven. I can't recall a specific scripture that has lead to that belief; it's just one that has always been a part of my thinking. When my brother committed suicide, I went through a time of blaming myself. If I had only been there. If I had only been more consistent in sharing with him the love of Christ. He was interested in knowing God, but never fully, at least to my knowledge, took the initiative on that. He and I talked on and off throughout our adult lives about God and I encouraged him to read the Bible, but I didn't check up on him to see how he was doing. Like most families today, we lived far apart, rarely spoke on the phone and rarely saw each other. I don't know if talking to him more often would have changed anything, but I still wish I would have.
My brother has always been a tortured soul. There are a number of stories I could share that would help clarify why I believe he was tormented, but I don't want to go into great detail here, at least not today. At the time that my brother took his life, he was staying with my step-dad, his father, in Kingman, Az. He and his wife were separated and he was out of work due to extreme back pain, and had been for quite awhile. From the letter he wrote to his dad, it seemed that he felt he would never amount to anything and that he was just holding people back, specifically his wife. My dad left him alone for a few hours and when he came back, he found the note, and Scott was gone. He had driven out to the desert, taken all of his back pain medicine (the whole bottle) and stabbed himself 12 times. People tried to comfort us with the fact that his pain medication protected him from suffering, but the image is permanently in my brain. I see it all as clearly as if I was standing in front of him. It still breaks my heart. When I heard the news I was in upstate New York with my brother. I just crumpled to the ground and my brother came running over to me to ask what was wrong. I couldn't even speak; I just handed him the phone and my step-dad explained what had happened.
Scott's father, Bob, my step-dad since I was seven years old, is an amazing man. Even through great loss and unimaginably painful situations, he maintains a positive attitude. He has always been an example to me of what it means to fully trust God. I marvel at his ability to let things go and simply trust that God will see him through. He doesn't doubt or question—maybe at some point he has, but not that I have ever seen. He is of the attitude that he just doesn't have time to worry about things that are beyond his control. All he can do is do what he can, and God will do the rest.
When I started today's entry, I had no idea that it would lead to a discussion of my brother or of his father. As I was writing about Scott, I was thinking that I would try to find scriptures that would help clarify why I have always felt that committing suicide would keep one from going to heaven, but my mind went in a different direction. I felt as if God was telling me to not waste my time with that. He knows the individual hearts of people and I can trust that He is fair and just.
Though it may have not been my original plan to talk about Bob, it warms me heart to be reminded of one of the most precious gifts God has given me—an earthly father to guide me. The poem below, "I Have Learned So Much," is something I wrote for Bob years ago. It captures just a little bit of why I feel so blessed to have had him as my father.
No comments:
Post a Comment