I don’t believe suicide is as preventable as we’ve been told. If intervention is possible, it should never fall on the person who is struggling the most. What makes this more complex and heartbreaking: There are no reliable signs.
I can have moments of joy, brief glimpses of something that might look like happiness to an observer. But nothing in my life is the same.
In my darkest hour, I needed anchors but found only mirages. Those I trusted became empty riverbeds—dry when I needed them to flow. One glimpse…
“Spectacular Catastrophes” Massive tragedies, so life-altering, that they demand we ask the hardest question of all: Why would God allow this? Why do bad things happen to good people? Biblical stories in modern life.
Holding in my love for my son or my sorrow for losses would suffocate me. Instead, I choose to speak, to let my grief breathe, even as I wrestle with God over the why of it all.
When you lose a kid to suicide, it’s not just their absence that hits you. It’s the shock of how they left, the questions that haunt you.
I tried to force my mind there, to picture what it would be like if Caleb were gone. Standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at the door to his room, I tried to feel what it would be like if my child were gone.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They…
In my last post, Wrestling with God’s Will After Losing a Child, I poured out my struggle to reconcile free will, God’s will, and the…
When my child died, the world stopped making sense and my heart shattered in ways words can barely touch. Maybe you’ve lost a child—perhaps even…
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