You Matter! Suicide is Never the Answer!

This column is for the one who struggles and feels invisible. Who may need to reach for the hand of Christ today. This is a letter I’ve written to myself. To remind me to do the same. Because I’ve read too much about suicide lately, and it’s never the answer. Jesus is!

Dear Me,

I want you to know that all those days you glanced out the window as youngster, as a pre-teen, and as a teen; that those days were given to dreaming and seeking and longing to live for God with purpose. They mattered.

I know you got lost as a girl, a wanderer, with a handful of emptiness locked inside your grasp. You held onto various hurts and took several lost walks down the long railroad tracks that included sadness and sorrow. You questioned everything. You shook your head at many things that fell in around you.

I know you remember the days when you heard the laughter and watched the running girls at play. They chased after the breeze of the day like sparrows flying toward joy. And you believed you had no wings, so you stayed on your perch.

This is a letter for you, to remind you that even though, at times, you’ve taken the long way, you are not invisible. You are not forgotten.

You are exactly on the right track, riding the rail of life. You’re taking Christ into the places where others are broken, who may be glancing out the window in hopes of finding hope, too. May you lift a sad chin toward heaven, so he or she will see the Savior beyond the brokenness and seemingly lost steps.

You thought you’d gone where you shouldn’t go, but you are right where He (God) has you, to reflect, to remember, to rise up. So, you will conquer and seek the face of the Savior. Who has gone before you. Who’s been with you. And Who is now ready to use you for His glory.

You were scared as a child. You were unsure. You were the girl in the crowd that nobody saw, that everyone passed by in the hallway of life. You played alone on the playground at school. You waited by the schoolhouse and watched the other children. You disappeared in high school. You wanted to forget your twenties. But your thirties gave way to new strides. Your forties gave way to books. Your words found life on paper.

You found your solace by glancing out the window, writing in the sky. And you traveled to places to escape. To a world where teardrops dried. Where hearts healed. Where life became an invitation to make a change for good and for God!

Your history is who you are, and every sorrow is captured in your heart. Along with every victory and praise. And every sin has been forgiven by Christ. You are not lost anymore. You are not invisible. You belong to Him.

You may hide your shoebox of memories somewhere deep in your soul, keeping those snapshots of pain that trapped you. But they are not who you are. They are just a part of your history. Earlier in life, they kept you from jumping into that boxcar with joy. From riding into the story of your life. But that’s over. You are not that person. You are redeemed. You matter.

So, pack your bag. Jump with all your might. Catch the boxcar to freedom. And write your books. Write your stories. Share your heart. Teach. Speak. Pray with others. And tell everyone how God delivers, redeems, and restores.

How He heals and holds, and guides. How He is your passion. How He’s outside the window, and each glance gives way to joy in Him. For you see Him. And He sees you.

And that is your story. He’s called you by name. And chosen you. And you ran to Him, jumping into the open door of a new life where you found the way, the truth and the life that comes from Christ. And no other.

Sure, you may be an older woman now, but don’t you hear the rumble of the train coming down the tracks. The rail is alive with the roar of hope. It’s Christ coming for you. And He’s reaching for your hand. Don’t you see it. It’s the hand with the scar of love! Just for you!

Sincerely,

Me

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. 

Psalm 51: 10-12 ESV

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