Tag Archive | love

Personalized 1 Corinthians 13

If I devote myself to ’round the clock service to others, but don’t have Jesus, my service is meaningless. If I have full knowledge of all circumstances, motives and intentions leading up to 8.8.12, but I don’t have Jesus, my knowledge is but dust. If I have the power to turn back time and undo what’s been done, but I don’t have Jesus, my power amounts to nothing. 

Jesus is patient and kind; Jesus does not boast or envy; Jesus is not arrogant or rude. He does not force His way or His perspective on me. He is not irritable or resentful; He never rejoices at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Jesus does not compare His suffering to mine; He does not discount my pain. Jesus does not keep score. Jesus stays alongside me in all things. He bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Jesus never ends. As for good works, knowledge, and power they will pass away. For without Jesus I only work and know in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a woman, I gave up childish ways. And so there will be a great transformation again… For now as a grown woman I see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And this transformation will be greater. 

So now faith, hope, and Jesus abide, these three; but the greatest of these is Jesus.

Thank you JRue and CT Teacher for your sharing.

1 Corinthians 13 (ESV):

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Guilt after suicide. Oh – and First Watch on Sunday!

One of the worst things about losing someone to suicide is the guilt. Don’t get me wrong… there’s plenty of pain not related to guilt, too. But I can rattle off dozens – maybe even hundreds – of reasons why my son’s death is my fault. From that Mai tai I drank 3 weeks into my pregnancy (I didn’t know I was pregnant yet) that I’m certain caused a faulty serotonin development level in his brain (aka: depression) to getting a text message that said. “Hey – I love you” and not immediately going to make sure he was ok.

It’s not just me. I hear it from other survivors, too.

Robbie tries to reassure me that I was a great mom. That Drey knew I loved him. At one point I told Robbie Drey killed himself because I let him play violent video games when he was too young. He reminded me of the time Drey’s friend had Grand Theft Auto and Drey wanted to play. 6th or 7th grade maybe? I made Drey and his friend play it in front of me and I asked questions about what they thought of the different things they saw. Good Mom, right? Thank you for that reminder, Robbie. I did care, I was engaged. So my index finger formed a check mark in the air. Meaning what? I got one right? Now I can be guilt-free? I’m constantly grading myself. And every parenting choice I ever made is all or nothing. Pass or fail. It either sits on the side of the ledger that contributed to Drey’s death or it sits on the side that communicated my love for him. Nothing’s neutral.

I experience relief from the guilt when I don’t think about it. In the beginning I couldn’t help but to think about it 24/7. Then after the first year or so I was able to control my thoughts – sometimes. Or at least catch myself sooner. You know, before my thoughts turned into a ruminating pile of “I should have” pain. 

I don’t share this so friends will feel sorry for me and tell me it wasn’t my fault. What’s most helpful is to acknowledge my ache of responsibility… don’t attempt to convince me otherwise. Only God can do that. So pray, pray, pray.

I share this for fellow guilt-ridden survivors. You are not alone. I know it hurts like hell. The pit of despair is gut-wrenching. AND WE HAVE TO LEARN TO LIVE WITH IT. The relief I experience from reminding myself of when I “got it right” is fleeting. And my ability to block out the guilty thoughts is completely unsustainable. The only true relief comes from acknowledging I am not a perfect parent.  God is! Yep – here I go gettin all religious and shit. The football stadium verse – John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Why did He send His son to overcome death? 1) Because God is holy and righteous. He couldn’t just willy nilly grade on a curve and say some character flaws are ok and others aren’t. Our imperfection had to be paid for in order to be in His presence for eternity. 2) Because God loves us perfectly and wants us with Him. How could He not provide a way to be with the loves of His life?! He delights in us!

So I remain in the fight. Sometimes the guilt wins my mood, sometimes peace does. I’ve learned to steer clear of scenarios like this Sunday… the teaching/church service is from Ephesians 6 on parenting. No thank you. Instead First Watch and Floridian French toast – or maybe fresh fruit crepes? are calling my name 🙂 Oh – and coffee with lotsa hazelnut creamer! Num num num! Want to join me? First Watch Sunday at 10a – German Village on High St. 

Thank You for loving me, God. Thank You for knowing what it’s like to lose your only son. I’m never alone. 

Insensitive

Sometimes the pain is hard to bear.
I’m very tired tonight.
This blog is for me. I share it for other survivors to read and hopefully interact with it. I have to remind myself of that… That I shouldn’t hold back because everyone that knows me will worry about me.

Friends sometimes say things that seem insensitive. I’ve been learning to forbear. I’ve been learning to be more realistic. I am blessed to be surrounded by so many loving people. How can they always know what the right (“right?” According to whom? Me apparently) thing to say is and more importantly what not to say? Their only child is not dead. How could they know? And even if their child was dead how could they know? The world does not revolve around me. Everyone is different. Everyone. They have their lens they view the world through. I have mine. Mine is no more right than theirs is wrong. So how do we get along? How do I respond? I can think of plenty of partial scripture verses that help answer that. I’m too tired to search for them in order to make them complete but I can let You lovingly challenge me nonetheless…

Let us regard others as more important than ourselves.
Banging (or is it clanging?) cymbals… All those gifts that mean nothing without love.
Jesus washing the disciples feet.
Bear one another’s burdens.
Encourage one another, forgive one another, serve one another… Lots of “one another’s.”
God told Job to pray for his lame ass friends. (Perhaps to keep his heart from becoming bitter towards them?)

I want to be free from all these rules I live by and I expect others to live by. The rules are an ongoing dialogue all on their own pinging around in my mind. Sometimes I’m not even aware of them until one is broken. It’s been like this to varying degrees for as long as I can remember. A new layer of complexity was added when Drey died. Now there’s the frequent dialogue that assesses if I’m grieving “right” or if my friends are supporting me “properly.” “How could they say something so insensitive. Don’t they know how they’re making ME feel?!”

I am so eager to pass moral judgement on every decision, action or comment. Why is everything always right or wrong? How sweet it’d be to just embrace some things simply as they are without giving them a pass or fail grade.

My friend was not deliberately trying to be hurtful. And I am not “wrong” for being hurt.

Dear Drey

Neither my words nor my tears adequately express how much I miss you. You weren’t just my son you were my friend. We laughed together. We shopped together. We listened to the same music. I know I embarrassed you sometimes – okay a lot. I became your friend as you got older but my role as Mom was always top of mind for both of us. I was home. I was safe.

You can see my pride in every picture of the two of us. I loved to watch you. Not just playing soccer, walking across the stage to claim your diploma or whatever. But just to stare at you. Sometimes when you were sleeping. Or when you were typing away at your laptop. It’s a Mom thing.

Do you remember how much fun we had getting your senior pictures taken? Well, I did anyway! I had fun watching you. Do you remember me dancing like a fool behind Kama so she could steal just a few pics of the real, genuine big smile? It worked. God how I miss that smile, that laugh.

This picture means a lot to me. I remember exactly where we were. I remember acting like a fool. And I remember the feeling of accomplishment when I succeeded in getting the real, carefree smile from you.

You are still my pride and joy.

Love him so

Love him so