*This is a re-work of a post I wrote last week and decided I could do it better as I search my feelings regarding a teen suicide in our community.
Look-Out Posts and Perspective.
Last week, I took my daughter to a candlelight memorial
for a friend of hers who took her own life on Wednesday.
I've never done that before--
driven my daughter to high school so she could stand in a crowd full of students
who held candles and each other,
who spoke in soft tones all asking the same question:
"Why?"
It was a surreal experience for me.
At first, Daisie wasn't sure she wanted to go--
she'd known the young girl in middle school
but they'd gone to different high schools--
and while we were talking about whether or not she wanted to go,
I offered that the reason people go to these kind of events
is not for the person who is gone,
but for the people left behind.
So she went with that thought in mind,
expecting to be there for just a few minutes.
I waited in the car with Joseph and Ari
because they didn't know the girl at all,
and it was super windy and cold outside.
We'd barely waited 10 minutes,
when I got a text from Daisie saying she was ready to go,
so I pulled the car back around to the front of the school
where the crowd was gathered
and just as I got there,
I saw Daisie wrapped around another classmate
who was sobbing.
So, I continued around and parked the car again.
Fifteen minutes later she texted again that she was ready to go.
We picked her up and she was silent all the way home.
The question of "why?" rings out into the Universe
when someone takes their own life.
I've known people who've taken their own lives,
I bet you do too.
Emotions that alternate between confused, angry, helpless surface over and over again.
Feelings are different when death comes thru consequence of illness or accident
than suicide, right?
It's hard to find peace.
A bright, sweet, loving sixteen year old
hung herself and died.
Sixteen.
Just a little one with so
much ahead of her.
I asked outloud
"Where were her friends?"
"What was going on in her family/ in her life
that she had no perspective?"
Daisie and I spent many hours pondering what went wrong,
trying to make sense of a senseless act.
Which led me to think about an experience I had and as I reflected upon it,
I shared with Daisie.
LIFE IS LONG.
And depending on where you are in life,
it can feel like a blessing or a curse.
On a vacation to Columbia Falls, Montana one year,
we took the whole family to a big maze.
It was a-maz-ing and we thought
it'd be a great way to spend some time together.
There were look-out posts on the four corners of the maze
and once you got to them,
you could climb up and get a good look at
where you'd come from
where you were
and where you needed to get to,
with a little planning
and remembering.
You also got to stamp your MAZE card
at the Look-Out Post--
to prove you hadn't cheated the journey.
At first, the maze was exciting--
everyone took off running like their bums were on fire--
each person claiming "Victory" before the race was won
based sheerly on their excitement of the challenge.
Getting to the first Look-Out post was fairly easy.
But getting to the second one,
not so much.
I found that as I chose a path I thought would lead me to the Look-out Post--
which I could clearly see,
as it was so much higher than the maze,
even so,
I frequently ran into walls
and had to turn around,
try to re-trace my steps
and go a different way.
The journey maze took longer than I imagined.
I also had some kids with me.
The older kids were off on their own.
Mr. W had the youngest on his shoulders,
and I had a couple of the youngest girls and 3-year-old Joseph
following me.
I felt the pressure to get it right, ya know?
Because this Maze was outdoors,
the summer sun became more a hindrance than a help.
Though we'd started the maze around 10:30am,
by 11:00 it was getting toasty.
And the girls and I were feeling like this Maze wasn't as much fun
as we thought it was going to be--
STILL, we kept hearing the successful finishes of other maze runners
who could ring a victory bell once they got to the end.
So we knew others had found their way out.
Yet, I got distracted--
sometimes I just wanted to run towards the ringing bell sound
instead of gauging my steps towards the Look Out Post.
Walking around corners that led nowhere,
retracing my steps again and again,
I made progress but it was slow.
When we finally got to the fourth and last Look Out Post,
I took more time trying to memorize the maze's turns to the finish line...
determined to get these little kids to a successful end.
As I walked down the steps of the Look Out Post,
I was thinking:
LEFT
RIGHT
RIGHT
Right?
or was it Left?
Shoot.
A Wall.
I was lost again.
Then, something neat happened:
my oldest son, who had long finished the maze,
was on an outside wall,
yelled over to me
"Mom?!"
"Yeah?" I answered.
"You're almost done! Keep goin'!"
He then stood on the outside wall
and other family members came over there too,
and cheered us on to the finish line.
When we were finally done,
I looked back at the Maze, I thought,
"That was a lot harder than it looked."
I did my best and it was good enough--
even when we were
in the middle of the maze
n' there were some hairy moments when I didn't trust
my self or my instincts.
Life is kinda like that, isn't it?
We make plans,
we set our path,
and try as we might,
sometimes, we run into walls
and have to re-assess the situation
and begin again with our best efforts.
And even then,
we can get lost.
So where do we turn to get a better perspective?
In my case,
I turn to my Savior.
My plea is always the same:
"help me to see things clearly."
Life is Long.
Thank goodness.
Time for do-overs and
do-betters.
The things that pressed on my mind when I was a teenager
weren't relevant in my 20s,
and the same things that weighed on me in my twenty's
are certainly irrelevant in my 50th year.
Perspective is the grace that comes with endurance.
Holding on for the ride is it's own reward.
Ari asked me if the young woman would go to heaven or hell because she took her own life?
The image I have in my mind is that this young woman was received with open arms
by those on the other side,
and surely by our Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.
Only He could've eased the pain that enveloped her whole self so much
that she took her own life.
What effect has this experience had on me?
I'm trying to see people more clearly,
than things.