Expression of sympathy

I am typing through tears.  Tears of pain and grief and helplessness.  I just learned of the the suicide of Rick Warren's son.  My heart is breaking. 

I didn't know Matthew Warren, age 27.  Neither do I know his parents nor amyone in his family.  But when I became a Mom, every Mother's pain is my own.  Every tragedy could just as well have happened to my family.  Every desperately needy child might as well live at my address. I hurt right along with them.

I don't pretend to feel the pain in the same way as those parents.  I know I don't.  And I know that, while my heart aches and my mind imagines what it would feel like, I recognize that I don't get it at all.  My son is across the room from me, watching basketball.  I can grab a hug, reach up for a kiss, and dream of watching his continued journey in adulthood. 

Rick and Kay Warren can't do that.

I have stood beside my friends as they did what no parent should ever have to do - bury a child.  I have sobbed with them until my body literally hurt.  But I could still go home and tuck my baby in for the night. Fix their favorite dessert. See my daughter graduate.  And get married. 

They can't.

As unbearable as the loss of a child must be, losing one by their own choice must be a pain beyond the scope of my vocabulary.  I cannot conceive it.  Add to the sorrow and grief feelings of guilt and helplessness and hopelessness.  Maybe even eventually anger and blame.  At somebody!

I don't know why I feel compelled to post.  Perhaps I am processing grief.  Trying in some pathetic way to do something that could help.  Somebody.  So I ask you to pray for this family.  This family who has blessed so many other people.  Ironically, the Dad who instructed so many of us on Life's Purpose.  And did it well.  At the end of the day, they are just parents like you and me.  Parents whose hearts are in ICU. Parents who are undoubtedly wondering "what if".   Parents who have two other children who need them, in spite of their pain. Please please please pray for this family.

And may we all become more mindful that the people we meet every day could be fighting the same battle.  I know we can't solve everyone's problems or pull everyone out of darkness.  I mean, seriously, if Rick Warren didn't have the right words to help his son, I surely can't have any. But maybe just maybe there is somebody we can help.  Maybe by talking about unconquerable despair like this we can disarm it.  For somebody.

Maybe if more people see the additonal casualties of these choices , some of them will cling a little longer to hope. I know that those in the clutches of mental illness or tethered in the pit of despair are unable to grasp what their choice will do to those who are left.  But maybe  we can get that message out before someone we love gets to that place.  And maybe just maybe, even in the darkest of darkness, a glimmer of truth might shine.  Just enough for hope to take a breath.  And love to discern a heartbeat. For somebody.

Somebody that might be my child.  Or yours.