I am sorry for your loss.

I have really needed to write, to purge, but I have so not wanted this blog to simply me my diary where I pour out my woes.  Nobody has time for that. 

But.

Today has been flat. 

There has been so much noise…

And the noise has been so loud…

And the children have been so loud…

And my ears…

I have developed this thing with my ears, have I told you about it?

My ears are broken. 

They will not hear and then they will and then they won’t. 

They freak me out. 

And my memory... I lose words

And the words I know I suddenly can’t spell.

And why am I telling you any of this when I don’t want to purge?

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When we finally walked through our front door, I sought the all familiar comfort of the emptiness of the two social media apps I frequent on my iPhone.  While mindlessly sliding through Facebook I came upon a post that another pastor’s wife had shared.  The post had to do with the tragic loss of Andrew Stoecklein, a pastor who lost his fight with Depression.  I have since seen the post shared numerous times from other church leaders we know and each time I feel the familiar pain I feel when I learn of another person whose precious life is lost to suicide. 

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Suicide leaves a mark.  It is like that oil stain in the fabric of your favorite shirt.  You love the shirt or dress or pants or life, and you don’t want to throw it out, but you can never enjoy it the same way.

This is me, my mom and dad at my baby shower for my eldest child in 2009. My father took his own life in 2012.  

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I want you, the beautiful person reading this, to take note:

·         You don’t get to judge- this is not one of those times when you get to open your Bible or your brain and apply what you thing or feel to how you should respond. Just don't. 

·         Feel the pain of the loss of that precious life, yet another precious life.  Allow your heart to break for the friends, family, acquaintances, who just can’t anymore and for all of those who are left behind. 

·         Open your arms and your heart.  You probably won’t meet Andrew’s family, but there are other people around you needing the connection. You don’t need to worrying about everyone contemplating ending their life, but every single person who you come into contact with is needing to know they matter.

·         If you actually know someone who has lost someone, please don’t offer opinions or answers, offer a meal, babysitting, laundry, a shoulder, red wine.

·         Ask yourself how you are doing.  Mental health is an ever increasing topic of discussion for good reason, the pressure to survive, let alone live, is beyond intense.  You have to look after yourself, you have to ask for help, and stop using the word fine when you are not.   

·         Breath.  It is so important to get good oxygen into the lungs. And honestly, breathing in and out, slowly, consciously, when you are battling to breath, will be what you need.

·         Live fully.  Eat chocolate.  Dance.  Love.  You will honestly not live to regret the hugs or the coffees with friends, or the wet kisses on your cheek from the little ones who you love the most.  You will regret not living.            

·         Be grateful.  Gratefulness is the most insane tonic to dissatisfaction, disapproval, disappointment. 

I end this hoping you are well. 

Yes, I am a pastor's wife learning to cope with flat days and I think talking about how I feel is the not worst thing, if it would help you find you voice.

Philippa