I did not want morning.
The thought lay beside me in the dark like a second body. The room was close and stale. A digital clock burned red on the dresser. A truck passed somewhere down the road and faded into the black. The ice maker in the kitchen dropped another tray with a hollow crack.
From the other end of the house came the low cough of a sleeping child, then silence again. Everything ordinary remained in place. Shoes by the wall. A Bible on the nightstand. A half glass of water gone warm. Yet the whole room felt tilted, as if the floor had shifted under me and the furniture had learned how to watch.
This is what some souls carry without telling anyone.
I knew how to look fine. In the church foyer I could shake hands, ask about your mother and smile like everything was normal. Driving home, I would turn into the gravel and just sit there for a minute with both hands on the wheel while something cold moved through my chest. Yes, supper still got warmed and clothes got laid out for the next day. Then the house would grow quiet and the darkness would start talking again.
Inside that battle, the mind becomes a dark preacher.
Then the preacher in my head got up and opened his mouth. He preached in a low voice, calm and steady, like a man who had told the truth too many times to doubt it now, “Tomorrow will be more of the same. The pain will meet you at breakfast. It will go where you go, even I will sit with you at work. It will be waiting when you lie down again tonight. You are wearing people down. You are one more weight in the room. They would breathe easier without you.”
For all the lies the dark preacher told, he could not quite silence this. I was still talking to God. Not well. Just this: “How long, O Lord?” David knew that cry. He knew what it was to feel forgotten, hunted, worn thin. Yet the cry still rose. He turned toward God with it.
So I whispered into the dark, How long, Lord?
How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? How many more mornings do I open my eyes and find the same dread already waiting for me? How long do I keep hauling this mind through breakfast, through work, through supper, through one more night? How long do I keep smiling at people who would go quiet if they knew what had been running through my head?
Loneliness is a terrible thing when it has gone on long enough. It changes the sound of a room. It turns a phone that does not ring into evidence.
It makes laughter from another room feel like something happening on another planet. All around me people are praying and I cannot seem to find a suitable prayer of my own. Families gather after church in little circles while the bulletin gets folded smaller and smaller in my hands. When I finally drive away, the ache I brought with me is still there, only now it is pressing closer to my throat.
What a bitter place….“How long wilt thou hide thy face from me?” There is pain in those words that can hardly be measured. I feel the absence of God as a fresh wound. The enemy rising, evil getting the upper hand. I fear death and the mockery that would follow. I fear being swallowed whole.
So does the person who has begun thinking about ending his life.
Death is often not the thing he truly wants most. Most often he wants the pain to stop. He wants the noise to stop and rest from his own thoughts because the voice inside him has become merciless.
Then Christ comes near as the Man of Sorrows. He comes with sweat on His brow from Gethsemane where His own soul was exceeding sorrowful even unto death. Arriving with the cry of dereliction still ringing from Golgotha.
He knows darkness from the inside. In Gethsemane a weight fell on Him that words can barely hold. He looked into the cup and knew exactly what stood in it. Christ does not guess at anguish. He has walked through the fire Himself.
And He does not draw back from the sufferer in the dark. He comes near. To the bed where a man has run out of words. To the woman bowed under years of sorrow. To the boy behind the closed door. He comes with scars in His hands and mercy in His face. He sees all of it. The shame. The grief. The fear. Still He stays.
The soul says, I think You have forgotten me.
Christ says, I have wounds that say otherwise.
The soul says, I cannot carry tomorrow.
Christ says, I carried wrath for sinners and walked out of the grave. Tomorrow is not stronger than I am.
The soul says, I am too far gone.
Christ says, I receive sinners. I cleanse lepers and raise the dead. I do not lose the ones the Father gives Me.
Something shifts there. The room has not changed. The clock still burns red. The window is still black.
Yet another voice has entered and it is stronger than the one that has been preaching ruin inside the skull. This is how true faith behaves. It keeps bringing its fears to God. David says, “Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death.” He asks the Lord to put life back into his eyes…for strength enough to go on. This sufferer knows where help must come from.
And then, almost suddenly, the psalm turns.
“But I have trusted in thy mercy.”
There it is. The ground under his feet. David has not solved every circumstance, nor silenced every enemy.
He has remembered the mercy of God. He has taken his shaking heart and set it down on the steadfast character of the Lord. “My heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.” Salvation. Not self-help or distraction. Not one more numbing device. Salvation. Rescue from outside the self. Rescue from God. The rescuing mercy that David knew dimly and we now see in the face of Jesus Christ.
This is where the gospel must break open with all its force.
Jesus Christ did not come to decorate the edges of shattered lives. He came to save sinners who cannot save themselves. For the guilty, the ashamed, the filthy, the exhausted, the cornered, the ones whose minds accuse them in the night, the ones who have walked to the edge and felt the pull of the abyss.
He came to bear sin in His own body on the tree and drink the cup of judgment to the dregs. Enduring the wrath our sins deserved so that every man or woman who repents and believes would never taste that wrath.
He came to tear open the prison house and lead captives out. Rising from the grave as the living Lord over death, hell, Satan, despair and every last enemy that stalks the soul.
So hear me with all the urgency I can give.
If you are reading this and the thought of self-destruction has begun to circle like a vulture, do not trust your mind for one more minute. Your pain is real. The lie growing out of that pain will kill you. Get up. Wake somebody. Turn on the light. Tell the truth. Call your pastor. Pound on a friend’s door. Put the gun away. Pour out the pills. Hand the knife to somebody else. Step back from the bridge rail and cry out to Christ.
Run to Him filthy and ashamed.
Bring your questions and your fears….your whole miserable heap of sin and sorrow.
Flee to the Christ who bled for sinners, because He truly welcomes the broken.
A mercy that is deeper than your despair and whose blood speaks better things than all your condemnation.
Do not give your soul to the grave. Give it to Jesus Christ.
He is able to save to the uttermost those that come unto God by Him. He will keep you and be more to you in one hour of saving mercy than all the dark promises of death could ever pretend to be.
Come while breath is still in your lungs. Come and live.
For more devotions click here.
Sign up for my email list here.
For a list of other essential Christian reads click here.
I just lost my beloved brother, Frank, ( my only sibling) to suicide on Feb. 24. I wish I had known what he was going to do. He suffered from Parkinson’s, which, as a top notch athlete, was the worst disease he could have had. I pray that before he took his own life, he cried out for mercy and forgiveness. And for myself, I pray for the peace that surpasses all understanding that only my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, can give. I pray that Frank is with Jesus. And I am grateful to God that our parents are not here to bear this unfathomable grief. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to be the one to bear this grief. I pray that in some way, this tragedy and grief can be used to glorify you!
In a word-WOW! You told it like it is. Depression is real. I can speak from experience on that one. When you’re 14 years old and you sit on the couch every night for a week waiting for your father to come home so you can blow his brains out and then yours, it’s fair to say that you’re depressed. I lived through that nightmare, but it was only by the grace of God. Otherwise, I would have blown the door of Hell completely off the hinges when I crashed through it. To anyone who reads this and reads it wanting to die, please listen to God rather than the devil. He listened to a 14 year old boy who wanted to die so the pain would stop. If He listened to me, then He’ll listen to you. Turn to Him and live.
Mike, grateful to God that you are saved by grace through faith in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. What a testimony! The only way that I can get through this is to believe that my brother cried out for mercy before doing what he did. I will miss my brother for the rest of my life, however, long God grants me.
And yes, to anyone who is reading this who wants to end their life or who is contemplating ending their life, please don’t do it. Do not listen to that voice in your head that is of Satan. My brother was an extreme physical pain. He had stopped taking his medication, which made it even worse. I wish I had known all these things and perhaps I could’ve helped. But the Lord knew these things and knew when it would happen. I witnessed to my brother more in the last six months than I ever have our entire lives. That was the Lord… That was the Holy Spirit, living in me, who knew what my brother was going to do. Prior to his suicide, he had sent me a song with lyrics about moving to heaven and ending pain. In retrospect I think that was his goodbye to me as I think he had made up his mind. My very last text to him was about a new medication that I was so excited about. It was a new medication for Parkinson’s that is longer acting and does not have the horrific side effects of the current medications. My brother read that but never answered. All suicide does is end the pain of the person who does it, if they are saved, and transfer that pain to the person or persons who love them who are left behind. I can attest to that fact. I know that God will get me through this, but it is the most difficult trial that I have been through my entire life and I have been through plenty. Without Jesus, I could not do this. Please everyone, if you are reading this and contemplating suicide do as Pastor Bitterman said… Knock on the neighbor’s door, call your Pastor, tell your loved ones, , tell your friends, and please don’t do it. You are loved more by God than you can ever fathom. Agape love… Perfect love. A love that we as human beings are incapable of. Please do not end your own life! Please seek help. As a suicide survivor, and that means somebody who had a loved one commit suicide, and is left behind, I am telling you that the pain of loss from suicide is unlike any pain that you can possibly imagine. With a natural death, you have time to say goodbye, unless it’s a sudden car accident or something, you have time to tell that person everything you ever wanted to tell them, and with a suicide, you are robbed of that. Even though I know that my brother knew that I love him dearly, and even though I knew he was suffering greatly from the Parkinson’s, I am now suffering. I am a human being, and even though I am a believer, I cannot help, but think of what his last moments were like before he pulled that trigger. It haunts me. Only by the grace of God can I get through this. Please do not pass your pain on to your family. Please get help and please know that you are loved.
Peggy, your testimony puts mine to shame. I understand a little bit of what your brother went through although my pain was totally spiritual where he suffered both spiritually and physically. When there’s no light at the end of the tunnel so to speak and you think there’s no hope of ever having any light again, that’s when pulling a trigger or taking an overdose seems like the only way out. But I never considered what my killing my father and then myself would have done to those who loved me. I just wanted the pain to stop and I didn’t care what it took. I wanted the hurt to end because life wasn’t worth living anymore. Mercifully God kept me from ruining myself for eternity. If He hadn’t I’d have been in Hell for years now. God has preserved me through a lot since then and I’m confident that He’s going to do the same for you. He’s not going to let the sacrifice of Christ on the cross go to waste. His love and grace will get us home.
Yes and amen. Another excellent message. How many of us, even though we deeply love the Lord and stand, have to stand still. Sometimes I read your emails and wonder if I understand how much of what you write is a parable like offering or an actual personal experience. Either way, it meets the hearts of kindred spirits. Many of us forget there is a way, a very real war, for our souls. The dark one whispering, screaming, taunting, accusing, and chasing us in our minds.
My husband gave me a poster that said “never doubt in the valley what you knew to be true on the mountain.” It is a powerful reminder that our Father never changes, never forsakes, never abandons and never leaves us. He is calling us to praise and give thanks even in the darkness. And what we find, as He transforms our minds, renewing them to His thinking, is that those ugly voices flee as the sound of His Name and His promises based on His unwaivering character.
But it is a war and we are soldiers. We must cling to our Master, especially in the darkness.
Thank you for sharing how true it is that the Creator, came in human, humble flesh to walk before us. When we doubt our understanding of the path, we cling to His very words, I AM THE WAY. FOLLOW ME. I will get you safely home.
Yes, my brother was suffering, horribly both physically and spiritually. And I am sure in the moment, he never considered what the manner of his death would do to his sister, who loves him dearly and always will. When I went back through his texts, I saw ones that were truly heartbreaking. As an athlete, he said that he would give anything just to be able to walk let alone run on the beach again. When the anniversary of our parents passing to heaven would happen, we would talk about it and he would say that the only thing he missed more than our parents was his old life.
God can do anything. He is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. In order for me to get through this, I have to believe that at the last moment, my brother cried out for salvation and mercy as he took his own life.
I have to share how good our God is. In the days that have followed, immediately following my brother‘s death, I had doctor’s appointments for myself. The Lord put people in my life who also had loved ones who took their own lives. People I would have never expected. People I could minister to and people who could truly understand my pain because they had lived it. An intake nurse at my doctors office, a friend who was ashamed to tell me that her nephew had attempted suicide, and after I told her what happened to my brother, she told me the truth. My insurance agent who watched her grandfather commit suicide when she was just a child. And there were several more.
Then, while I was with my precious Pastor‘s wife, getting things for a fellowship, a woman ahead of us in line turned back towards me, and said, and I quote, “ you look as though you are grieving, I will pray for you. “ It turns out that her husband has Parkinson’s. God is amazing in the ways that He comforts His children.
I pray that in his final moments, my brother felt God‘s love and my love surrounding him. I pray that he knew how much he was loved, and I pray that he is with Jesus right now, where I know our parents are.
Dear Peggy, I am so deeply sorry for your loss, your struggle and your faith to stay tethered to the Lord you so obviously love. Thank you so much for sharing. I am sure it will touch hearts along with mine.
Marcy, thank you for your kind words which brought me to tears as did Mike’s comments. I know that I sound like a broken record, but if I can help just one person to avoid doing what my brother did, it’s worth sounding like a broken record.
As Pastor Bitterman said… Call your Pastor, if you don’t have a Pastor call a friend, if you don’t have a friend, call a family member, if you don’t have a family member that you feel close to, call the suicide hotline.
Please know that you are loved not only by the God who created you, but by me and by others who do not want you to end your life, the life that God gave you. Please get the help that you need to get you through this crisis.
And I have to add this… And I pray fervently that anyone who reads this who is considering suicide, will reconsider. Cry out to Jesus, and He will help you.
Even though your pain is unbearable, think of the pain that you will inflict on your loved ones if you take your own life.
I know in the moment, those who are contemplating committing suicide, do not have any other thoughts, but ending their pain. But please know that there is help, there are people who love you, and there is a God who loves you more than you can ever imagine and who gave His only begotten son to suffer and die so that we can have eternal life. Please think about what you’re doing and don’t go through with it.
I pray people who face such pain would hear what your thoughts convey.
Oh Peggy, I gave you the wrong impression. I am sorry. I am not struggling. When I was a teenager back in the 70s I did try to take my life but Jesus rescued me. I am very good and like you, very much in love with our Lord Jesus.
I was actually thinking about a young family member who is struggling with faith and meaning, especially in this wicked world. I pray the Lord can reach him with a message such as yours and Mr. Bitterman. I know all things are possible with our great Abba God and so I do not stop praying. God bless you.
I am very grateful that I was rescued from my attempt 50+ years ago. I know how devastating it would have left my mom, who was a nurse, who found me and saved me with her knowledge.
Dear Marcey, what a wonderful testimony that your mother, showing the love of Jesus Christ, saved you with her knowledge as a nurse. What a blessing. No I did not know that you had made an attempt on your life.
It is clear that you love the Lord, and it is clear that you want your story, as I want my brother’s story, to resonate with people who are contemplating ending their lives. We both know that Jesus is our savior, and He can do ANYTHING!
Praying for all those who are in despair to call on the Lord and realize that there is hope in Him.