Day 17

One of the girls in my house tried to commit suicide two nights ago. My first response was pure selfishness. Dear Lord, not now. I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with this. I can’t feel anything else painful. I have no strength to help the other girls walk through this. But I left where I was and went back to the house. Our house mom was gone, headed to the hospital. Most of our leaders were unavailable for similar reasons. So it was left to one of our neighbors and the oldest of us in the house to gather the others and break the news. We banded together and began a vigil until we heard that our housemate was going to pull through.

I thought I had nothing to give. And yet somehow I found the grace to push my own pain aside. I found the grace to pray, to offer hugs, to sing over the suicidal girl’s spirit, to look around the room assessing if each of my roommates were okay, to let one of them lay in my lap while I rubbed her back and ran my fingers through her hair. The strength came. I was tired. I’m still tired, but the grace came from somewhere beyond myself. For a little while my own pain seemed insignificant, placed in perspective against the bigger picture of life and ministry. I’m struck by the fact that two things are true at the same time. In the grand scheme of things, my pain is not so great. There are bigger things to live for and be passionate about, reasons to go on, others in more pain than I. And yet what is also true is that my grief is important. It needs to consume my world for a season in order to be processed. To me it is more important than anything else, and it should be. Today I feel both realities tugging on my heart. Caught between them, I ask you Lord to supply me grace for my heart to be sustained.