Broken Heart and Contrite Spirit

I love this scripture and recently came across it once again. "The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit." (Psalms 34:18)

From all the studies I've done on this word contrite I believe it means "humble" and humble is where we begin to cement ourselves on the path where the Lord can use us. But, as it shows in the first part of this verse we must have a broken heart. So you see we are broken, and then we allow the Lord to reshape us.

What I love best of this scripture is the "nigh" part. In my Archaic Words and the Authorized Version by Laurence M. Vance, it says this about "nigh":

"Nigh, which originally had the comparative form near and the superlative form next, literally signifies "that which reaches to" or that which suffices." The common meaning of nigh is simply near. This nigh denotes proximity in place, time, or position."

Golly, how beautiful is our Lord. He was with me the moment Joshua's spirit left his body. Lord, God never left me, even when I couldn't sense him. He is with me still. It's a promise right there in Psalms 34:18.

I remember being perplexed during those first months, for almost a year, after Joshua died. I did not sense God's presence. When I told one dear friend, she said, "God is sorrowing with you."

Could it be that my tears were so great, my grief so deep that my Lord was within my spirit, going through it with me? I know my relationship with the Lord had changed. I could not know him as I had.

I didn't lose my faith in Lord, God. No. I remember reading an e-mail from a woman who had lost her son over a year after we had lost Joshua. She said when she went to church, a thing she at one time enjoyed, it left her cold.

Oh, golly, I shivered when she told me this. I had NEVER not even once felt this way. I couldn't seem to get enough of the sermons. I often cried during them, but I went anyway. Yes, sometimes I didn't feel like going, because I would wake crying and couldn't stop. I willed myself to pull my emotions together long enough to get through the worship service. And it worked. I went home and sometimes resumed my tears, but I was very glad I worshiped with the people.

I believe God is reshaping my soul. Our relationship has changed, thank goodness. I am learning what it means to be humble. Humble toward God, my family, my enemies.

I'm not saying I am full of humility. Oh, no. I am learning to be humble and to respect our God. Because the only relationship we can have with Lord, God is of a spiritual nature. We must be grounded spiritually, even if only a thread is there, or left, to meet with him daily.

It's odd when I think of it. I am on the one hand still horrified that I am traveling this road of "the valley of the shadows." On the other side of this thought, though, is I have such joy and peace that only comes from Christ. Honest. Some days it's my only joy. This must be what it's like to have one foot in the spirit world and one foot on earth.

Until next time . . . embrace the trials and sorrows of loss and plow through the middle. We can't hide from God. Seek only Christ and not another. And when you've sought him fully, God will send comfort in the form of human words and warm hugs.

Anger Will Come

My topics tend to address with what I'm dealing with in my present life. I have one foot in the past and always will. I guess this is what happens when you've lost a child to suicide. And especially when you were there when it happened.

I have to work daily to stay in the present, and it becomes easier. Honest, it does.

What I'm reading right now is Judy Collins's "Sanity and Grace: A Journey of Suicide, Survival, and Strength." I appreciate the quotes she's added from professionals that have studied suicidology. I don't agree with all of them, but I do recommend this book.

Let's touch upon anger. Are you angry at your loved one? Was I ever angry at Josh? You better believe it. Does the anger come and go? At first it came in spurts and wouldn't leave for a time. Now, not so much. It surfaces when I least expect it, but it disappears and I'm left with regret. With an ache to hug my son.

Anger is normal with this loss. Golly, people even feel anger when they lose a spouse to natural causes, so surely we'll feel anger when a loved one takes their own life.

A few thoughts may go like this: What right did he have to leave us this way? Why did she do this? We loved her. Did he love us so little? She was selfish, plain selfish. He's ruined our lives! Why did he not listen to me? I'm his mother, I knew what was best. I've been given a jail sentence that I don't deserve.

Please know I had all these thoughts and many more I can't remember. I felt guilty afterward, but they were what they were.

I remember feeling crazy. I think from lack of sleep and all the sorrow (too much negative and not enough joy). God allowed another mother and my paths to cross at the perfect moment in my life. At the time, she lost her son five years earlier. I told her, "I feel I'm going crazy."

She looked me right in the eyes and said something like this, "I know you do. I did. But, you're not." Her eyes twinkled with a knowing, and I trusted that look more than her words.

I will always be grateful for our mother to mother talk on the green grass of a park on a summer day.

I'm still growing spiritually, which is a relief. Sometimes I wonder if I'll fall off the edge of this physical, spiritual world. God holds out his arms. He walks this harsh, cruel path with me and will never forsake me. I am sure of that. What I'm not sure of is myself. Too many feelings all a jumble, but if I stop and think for one quick second who my Lord God is, I then place my trust back where it belongs. With him.

Philippians 4: 12, "I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need." (KJV)

Until next time . . .

Good News On Writing Joshua's Story

I received news that one of my stories was accepted for a book anthology. The story is about how Joshua's friends and I helped one another after Joshua died. I don't know much else, just that the piece is currently before the editing committee and it will be weeks before they send it back with suggested changes.

To say we are elated is a most true statement. Even Joshua's rottweiler, Heinrich, got in on our group hug (Josh always said that dog was a touchy, feely silly, nothing like his macho father, Harloe). My husband and I hugged and Heinrich jumped on us and nipped at my sleeve.

Our time of celebration.

I believe this will be a first of many stories about our son and our loss, and hopefully those stories will fill a book. Most of all, I pray my stories will help others.

That old saying that we writers must never give up, that we must persevere has proven true once again. This news has given me the push I needed to be encouraged and keep writing my stories. Whether they be nonfiction and fiction for children or about suicide.

Until next time . . .