I told Noy the other day that I feel like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter. Instead of a large embroidered "A" though, I wear a large “S” on my chest and my Pearl is buried deep in the ground. Though I know it wasn’t my sin that earned me this letter, it is my badge to wear nonetheless. We will always be "that family" and like Hester, try to cover it as I may, the pang of every stitch of that letter will always be on my heart.

 

Grief + Trauma are such a strange duo. The effects of it can never be understood until one lives with it and I’m sure we don’t know the whole of it yet. Lately, grief doesn’t come in waves, it’s just always there. The effects of trauma however, are are a bit like a bell that tolls daily. Not on the hour but randomly throughout the day. Sometimes it rings loud in our ear, forcing us to pause and catch our breath. While other days it’s a more distant ring because we’re too busy to give it our full attention. But every day, almost without fail, it rings. Making sure we don’t forget the phone calls, the gunshot, the large and small details of that day or the days following. Sometimes something in particular will prompt the memories, like when Wesley asked us the other day, “what happened to the rug that used to be here?” and then we relive why that rug is no longer there. Most of the time it’s random and for no apparent reason at all. I could be at a stoplight or checking out at the grocery store. I wish I knew some rhyme or reason to the triggers but just like every other part of this mess, we have no answers.

 

We are learning the art of living with being content with the grief + joy. Tainted as it is, there is joy in our lives. Lots of it. Joy in raising Wesley and watching him mature and thrive at school. Joy in our relationship with the girls. Joy in the closeness we’ve grown to each other. And most of all, joy in the closeness to Christ we’ve experienced in this valley of the shadow of death. It’s a process, to be sure. One that I have no doubt will take our entire lives. But I’m certain it’s exactly what God would have us do. As much as I am tempted to want to fast forward through the trials of my life and to avoid suffering and grief at all costs..to “get to the good stuff” of my life, it’s in that exact suffering where God’s transforming work is happening. It’s in my hardest days that I feel God closest and have the most spiritual growth, if I will accept it. The transforming work in my heart IS the good stuff.

 

So with every bell that tolls, we are trying to keep our eyes on today, but our hope on eternity. For it’s only in that mindset that our eyes are open to the crazy paradox of Kingdom living. It’s only there that we learn the humbling lessons that, not just the association we have with suicide but, suffering in general offers to those willing to learn them. I could easily choose bitterness but what good does bitterness bring to me, to my family, to those around me? It brings nothing and produces nothing but more bitterness. So hourly we wrestle (and it is nothing short of wrestling), with choosing the better path, the hard path, the path that makes absolutely no sense to the world’s eyes. But the only one that leads to true joy and the only one that leads me closer to Christ.

Suicide is forever etched in our story, but praise God, it will not be our complete story. Just as Hester’s badge, though meant to shame her, was used to transform her in more literary ways than I can understand. Over time, she learned to wear it with grace and it made her life story, as well her impact on those around her, something that could have never been otherwise. I pray that I too will allow God to transform me through the ugliness of our story in more ways than I can even recognize in myself. The humbling that comes from wearing such a badge won’t be taken away this side of Heaven. May I accept the badge with humility and take comfort in the promise that “He teaches His ways to the humble.”

 

My sure and confident hope sits secure in the day that I’ll turn in all of the ugly badges of my life and Christ will make me and my joy complete.

 

xo

Dawn