Sunday, July 21, 2013

God and Suicide

Ever since Rachelle's suicide, I've found myself deeply connecting to the passages of the Bible dealing with death and the power of death. I've found myself gripped by songs we've sung in church regarding death and loss, and rejoicing all the more when speaking about Jesus' resurrection. Death has a whole new meaning and depth on the other side of losing a beloved friend.

Chris, my friend, and Senior Pastor of University Presbyterian Church (UPC), has also experienced first-hand the loss of a dear friend to suicide. He has done some work on his blog speaking of his experience with God in this tender place. I just sobbed my way through this sermon that he gave just three days after his friend's suicide. I am grateful for his vulnerability, and his pastoral care as he preaches. You may find his sermon here.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Creeping Up.

I am ridiculously aware that in a couple weeks is the anniversary of Rachelle's suicide.

I am terrified.

I've already had a few days of not handling her death well, and I'm fearful of what will happen as the anniversary creeps closer and closer.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Fourth of July.

The Fourth of July holds a special implication for me when it comes to Rachelle. It was the last night I saw her. I was at my best friend's house, and I'd asked Rachelle to come.  And to bring my guy best friend. She did.

It was my first time grilling! I made burgers, and we ate in a happy chattering of food and conversation and soda and new memories and connections being made. We talked about Rachelle's upcoming mission trip to Honduras, where she'd fallen in love with the children and the complication of entering someone else's world.

At the end of the night, I walked her and my guy best friend out the door. I gave each of them a hug and told them I loved them. I hugged Rachelle extra tightly and told her "I love you" and we did what we always did, held our hands in a hand hug.

Rachelle told me to go inside, so I did. Before I shut the door, I looked back one more time and waved, with the happiest smile on my face.

And I'm mad.

I'm sad because I miss her so much.
I'm mad because she made a decision that makes me miss her this much.
And I'm grieved because I'm mad at her.

It's a complicated and emotional sort of day. I try to shake it off, and let myself just feel sad... and then I realize that it's fair to let myself feel whatever the hell I'm feeling. And 'cause I feel awful, I can only say it one way. I feel like shit. I feel like a horrible friend for being pissed at her, in the way that it sits in my gut. And how talking about it creates a knot in my throat, and makes me want to cry.