God's Mercies after Suicide: Blessings Woven through a Mother's Heart~Day Eight~A Mother’s Memories

Joshua's Senior Picture~1996

     

“I’m outta here.” Joshua raised his always soft voice to an annoyed holler. His face scrunched in fury, he threw his clothes into a duffle bag.

At eighteen, he had become upset with me and left home.

I sobbed for three days. For one thing, I couldn’t imagine any of my children being that furious with me. For another, it was over a trivial matter.

It was during this time after Joshua graduated high school that he became difficult to wake in the mornings for his summer job. He had an alarm, but he would shut it off and fall back to sleep. For about a month, I would shake his shoulder and tell him, “Son, you’re going to be late for work.”

At first he got up. In time, nothing worked but to throw back his blankets and demand he get up. Now.

I did that one time too many.

Joshua moved in with friends in an apartment. That first weekend after Joshua left, our community celebrated the harvest of strawberries with the Strawberry Festival. My daughter, Jami, asked me to go with her and her two daughters: a baby and a toddler. I never knew when sobs would overtake me, so I told her I couldn’t be out in public.

At the end of two weeks, Joshua moved back home as suddenly as he’d left. As he was unpacking his duffle bag, I entered his open bedroom door. “Son, I won’t bother you anymore about being late. If you lose your job, you lose your job.”

Joshua looked up with a wide-eyed expression. “Mom, I’m sorry. I wasn’t mad at you. I just took stuff that was bothering me out on you and used that as an excuse.” We hugged each other, and my shoulders heaved with my sobs of relief. He rubbed my head, and in his familiar, gentle voice said, “Don’t cry, little mama. It wasn’t your fault.”

Lord, I understand my son felt safe enough to direct misguided anger toward me, knowing I would never stop loving him. In Jesus’s holy name I’m grateful he’s home. Amen.

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God's Mercies after Suicide: Blessings Woven through a Mother's Heart~Day Eight~The Devotion

Joshua's last car

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

—Matthew 6:34

Too soon, Jason and his family packed their suitcases and prepared to say good-bye.

We agreed that Jason should drive Joshua’s car back to his home to give it to a large family that needed an extra vehicle. Watching Joshua’s car leaving? I can’t express how much that tore at my heart. It was for the best, I knew. But I had no idea what it meant to my fragile emotions.

At that moment, reality smacked me like a fist in the face. For better or worse, we had to get through each day without our Joshua and now even without his things. Never again would I see his red Pontiac parked in our driveway.

Without Joshua. How could I do this? I couldn’t wrap my mind around such an absurd idea. I decided then that I would strive to live in the moment. I prayed for the Lord to help me achieve this one goal: one moment, one hour, and one day at a time.

After Jason and his family waved good-bye, my husband and I dove into spring-cleaning.

As we took down our bedroom blinds and washed them in our front yard, two of my husband’s coworkers pulled to the side of the curb. They visited for an hour. During their time with us, God made it clear. He had not forgotten us. Mercy came when family left and company came.

Dear Father, You watch over us, and Your loving arms continue to embrace our sorrow. In Jesus’s holy name, I’m grateful. Amen.

God's Mercies after Suicide: Blessings Woven through a Mother's Heart~Day Six~A Mother's Memories

Joshua~age thirteen

A Mother’s Memories

Eleven-year-old Joshua ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. “Mom, Mom, the mean boys are chasing me again.”

For the past week, while doing his newspaper route, my son had been harassed by a gang of teenage bullies. The sound of his voice told me he’d had enough. Joshua whipped around the corner of the kitchen, catching me dusting our knickknacks. “I’ve got to deliver my papers. What am I gonna do, Mom?”

I cocked my head, holding the dust rag. “Do you want me to go with you? I’m sure they won’t bother you while I’m there.”

Joshua lowered his head. “I guess.”

I stepped closer to him. “Look at me, Son.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes. “Why do those guys have to bother me?”

I hooked my arm into his. “Some people have small-thinking minds. Did you get to finish your route?”

He nodded.

“Tomorrow, I’ll go with you. We’ll make it fun.”

The next day, Joshua pointed out the teens who threatened to beat him up and possibly steal his bike. I stopped my bicycle and got off. I planted hands on my hips and glared at each of them. I was prepared to tell them I’d call the police if they didn’t leave us alone, but I didn’t have to. They turned and walked off.

For the next few weeks, Joshua and I rode daily on his paper route. I met his customers. Some of the older folks talked about how responsible Joshua was, and that they were glad he was their paperboy.

Even though Joshua’s fear of the boys caused him to quit his route, we had great times being together. We raced each other on the bikes and chatted about school and his friends. Best of all, I believe Joshua knew his mom was someone he could count on.

Father, I know that time was humiliating for Joshua. As his mother, I am glad I had those weeks together with my son. He worked hard, and I was proud of him. In Jesus’s holy name. Amen.

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