|Joshau at age fifteen when he was diagnoised with arthritus|
“Dad, I don’t want to die.”
Joshua’s statement set off the event of a two-hour discussion between him and his dad.
Minutes earlier and at midnight, Joshua had locked our front door behind him and went into the garage. In his own words to his dad: “It’s like I woke up from a daze, realizing I was about to kill myself.”
As I slept unaware of what was taking place, my two men talked of life and God. At one point, Joshua picked up his Bible and shook it at his dad. “We don’t realize who we’re dealing with.”
At another point in their conversation, Joshua said, “People shouldn’t candy-coat the Bible to their children, for they need to know all things about God.”
My husband woke me at two a.m. “Jean, Joshua’s locked himself in the garage, again, and he’s got a gun.”
I bolted from bed and ran outside. I called out in a calm voice, “Joshua, you need to open this door.” Silence. “Come on, Son, it’s late and you’re tired.”
After what seemed like light-years, Joshua opened the door. He was standing by the washing machine with a towel over his arm, and his other hand was under it. “Can’t a guy do his laundry?”
I walked over to Joshua and looked up at him. “It’s too late for that. Let’s go to bed.”
My husband and I thought we had taken all his weapons from him, and then we took turns on suicide watch. We were waiting for eight a.m., when I would begin phone calls to get Joshua in to see a new therapist
When I couldn’t get a doctor appointment as soon as possible, I called our insurance company. I asked if I could get Joshua in to whomever would take him the quickest. Today. They agreed after I told them what our son had almost done.
A therapist one hour from our home said he would see Joshua at one o’clock. We had two hours to get ready and be there. I thought all was well. I thought God had answered our morning prayers.
Help was only an hour away.
But Joshua continued to switch back and forth from wanting to die to needing to live.
Then, he said good-bye and pulled the trigger.
Not my son. Oh, God, no. Why? In Jesus’s name, I'm horrified. Amen
~Your Mother Memories~
~Your Prayer of Praise~
~A Scripture of Encouragement~