On Sunday, March 9th, 2008 a member of my immediate church family took his own life.
My first recollection of him is from December of 2007. He gave a testimony in church about having somewhere to go for Thanksgiving for the first time in a very long time. He glowed about the friends he had made at our church and was excited to share this joy with the rest of us. I remember getting misty eyed and saying to myself, "You're right, Jason. The people here are at this little church ARE wonderful. Thank you for the reminder."
In the months that followed I would not have many interactions with this man, but there is one moment that stands out in my mind when he talked to my son. He was just saying good morning but he was so happy to talk to my son, that my son matched his enthusiastic greeting. Turns out that lots of the moms at our church had similar stories.
Jason had a son that he was separated from but talked of constantly. Jason had spent time on the street. Even those who spent a significant amout of time with him did not know how to contact his mother. He had been struggling with suicidal thoughts for a long time.
What I know about Jason I only know because he is gone. I only know this information because conversations were had regarding his passing at our church staff meetings and during the memorial service.
However, this loss hit me harder than I expected. Part of my sadness was that this man was younger than I am and the service was being done in my church and many of my closest church family members attended, essentially Jason was a part of my peer group. The other part of my sadness is the disappointment that comes from the fact that I didn't ever take any initiative to know this man. I was forced to look at who I choose to spend time with and why I choose to spend time with those people. My prejudice and/or fear of those who come from different places was exposed in an unavoidable way.
It was clear during the memorial service that I was not the only one confronting this sin.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
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