A place to find Hope

Tag: deadly

Are You Tired of Going Round and Round in This World?

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It has been a quiet day today. (Sure need those from time to time.) I just finished my post at www.dougbolton.com. Go there to see my latest excerpt from my upcoming book, Signs of Hope for the Military: In and Out of the Trenches of Life.

If you or anyone you know are military. This is the site for you.

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Here is another excerpt from my first book, Signs of Hope: Ways to Survive in This Unfriendly World.

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Chapter 1

Stop the World and Let Me Off. I’m Tired of Going ’Round and ’Round

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18

I was out of control. The sobbing filled my eyes with tears. I couldn’t see the road ahead of me as I drove my Explorer.

Everything seemed to be going wrong in my life. I had quit two jobs because of guilt. I even failed at running my own business. I quit the two jobs because I had to sell something to customers and I had a hard time trying to force people to buy something they may not really need.

The business that failed was a cash flow venture that helped businesses have a better flow of money while they waited for their accounts receivables to come in. I left that venture because I again had to convince people to take part in something they may not have needed.

Depression, self doubt, fear, anxiety, and even hopelessness, overcame me until I was in the pit of despair. I was a happily married man with three children and several grandchildren. I had a wonderful 25-year teaching career. Why was I feeling so low? Why did I feel so unloved?

All I wanted to do was to stop the madness and check out of this wretched hotel called Earth! I pulled my SUV into a high school parking lot in a secluded area. I was ready to commit suicide. The date was March 31, 2001. The next day was April Fools Day. A very fitting time to have your life end, don’t you think?

I did have the common sense to call my wife Charlotte. She came quickly to where I was. She calmed me down enough to where I thought I could drive myself home. After she left, I sat there behind the steering wheel still crying, and then I yelled, “God, I can’t take this anymore!”

In a flash, there was calmness in me. It even felt different in the vehicle. The air was fresher and cooler. It was as if God were saying, “It’s about time you came back to Me. I have been waiting for you. Let Me carry you the rest of the way.”

My life changed that day. I gave my life back to God.

I had been a Christian since I was about 16. But I was the poster child for a lukewarm Christian.

Yes, I went to church and made sure my children went also, but I wouldn’t say I was a perfect example for them. I rose up in my church to where I was the Sunday school superintendent and on the important Pastor-Parish Relations Committee, but in my heart I didn’t put God first.

On Sundays, I stayed home if there was a good football game on. You didn’t have to go to church every Sunday, did you? God let me know I did. He also let me know of a new direction for me to go.

Why had I allowed myself to fall to such a low spot? Why had I drifted so far away from God?

The answer my friend is I was in a battle with many afflictions like self-doubt, anxiety, etc. Those aren’t fancy medical terms like cardiovascular disease or leukemia, but they are just as deadly. These demons of the mind can control your life to the point where you are not functional. It can cause you to hide from the world and let your life go on unnoticed until you die. It can push you to ending your own life.

This book is for those who want to discuss all the enemies of man like self-doubt, fear of failure, divorce, death in the family, and many others. I want to share with you how God used me to write this book, and how He pulled me out of the muck and mire.

The walls we put up in life can be caused by a loss of a loved one or extreme trauma. We can put them up because of sexual abuse, inappropriate or unclear expectations, divorce, poverty, violence in the family, family addiction or environment.

Do you often feel like you don’t want to go to work? Are there times when you feel like you would rather stay in bed and not face the world? Have you fallen into the pit of despair without even knowing why you did? Have you ever felt lost—and alone?

You are not alone! Close to 19 million American adults, or about 9.5% of the U.S. population age 18 and older, suffer from some kind of handicapping mental disorder in a given year.1

Now that I have totally broken you down—there is hope! There are treatments that can help you. See your doctor to find what treatment is best for you. Then go to where there is eternal treatment, and that is through your loving heavenly Father.

The first part of this book talks about putting on God’s armor and fighting against the many mental afflictions. This information is from the horse’s mouth. That would be me. I have gone through many battles of my own. I have felt lost, and I thought that there was nowhere to go. I lived that way for many years. I existed from day to day, struggling with my emotions. I found out that I didn’t need to go through the torture. I had places I could go for help. I found out what they were, and I invite you to find out too.

            Bare with me! There is a happy ending.

“I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will guide him and restore comfort to him, creating praise on the lips of the mourners in Israel. Peace, peace, to those far and near,” says the Lord. “And I will heal them.”

Isaiah 57:18–19

Further Adventures

You know how easy it is to let your emotions take over in your life. You’ve been there. It is too easy to let the little things grow from molehills to mountains. When each trial comes up, try to put it into perspective. Is it something that is going to be life-changing? Is it something you can’t handle yourself?

You could tell in this chapter that I couldn’t handle what was happening to me, and what happened next? I felt God was changing me.

Stop in the middle of your grief and say, “Why am I so out of control? What can I do to stop this madness?” The answer was easy for me. I ran to God like a long lost prodigal son, and He opened His arms and took me back in like any father would do with his own son. You should do the same: Run to God and let Him carry you the rest of the way through your life like He is doing for me.

Something to Ponder

Isn’t it funny how we let the smallest winds grow into a full-blown storm?

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I will be sharing more excerpts in the future so keep coming back. Better yet..go to the top of this page and click on “Subscribe.” When you do all future posts will come directly to your inbox. You will glad you did.

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Battling the darkside? Things seem too scary for you right now?

FEAR NOT!

GOD IS IN CHARGE!!

He will not let you be tempted any more than you can handle. Lean on Him to be your fortress, and protector.

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Remember:

You are never alone.

You are never forsaken.

You are never unloved.

And above all…never, ever, give up!

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+If you like what you see, please subscribe at the top of this page where it says, “subscribe.” When you do, all future posts will come directly to your inbox. Also, if you know some else who could benefit from this site, please let them know.

A Story About Suicide

We have had a disaster here at Signs of Hope. We had a crash that is not fully explained as of yet, but the bottom line is that we have lost ALL of our subscribers. We had 108,000 or more and they are gone. We are starting with zero again tonight. We don’t have this new site up and running the way we want it yet. You can’t even subscribe.

We will continue to share hope, and reaching out to you that are battling Anxiety, fear, failure, depression, and the many other usual suspects. Don’t give up. We will be strong again!!

Please come back and subscribe once we have that subscription feature again. 

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Love in the Time of Suicide

by

Linda S. Clare

 

That day, my friend was too exhausted to cry anymore. She sipped her tea and picked at the banana bread I’d made, but she hardly looked at me.

Her husband had tried it. Again.

She stared at the floor, describing the local hospital’s beige and dreary psychiatric ward. When she’d visited, my friend’s husband had chatted about the hospital’s dinner menu. “I think I’ll order the mashed potatoes,” he’d chirped. He seemed to bask in the attention, as if suicide was the best way to spice up a dull morning.

“Did he say why?” I winced.

Her words stung. “When they asked him, he shrugged and said he just decided.” She’d already told me about her husband’s anger problem, and that she was his favorite target.

Then, her voice pinched. “Two attempts, both with weapons, in one year,” she said. “The doctor says he can’t come home this time.”

She paused while I gazed at the potted pink geraniums soaking up sun on the back deck. He was the family gardener—who would tend to the plants? My friend’s pretty face had taken on a grayish cast, even in the warm afternoon light. Should she walk away from this troubled relationship, or stay? She said, “I have some decisions to make.”

My mind had already leapt to the conclusion reached by the doctors, her family and her pastor. “Wanna know what I think?” I blurted it out as I pictured plucking my wonderful friend right out of this terrible situation and whisking her to safety.

“Wait.” She asked me to listen. “Through all of this, I’ve been thinking about your “just love” writing.”

Weeks earlier, when the county jail chaplain told me he didn’t believe in Tough Love—defined as ending relationship with addicts unless they got clean—I’d felt so validated. No, what I needed was a Just Love—the capacity to grant every person, addicts included, dignity and hope without judgment.

Just Love also calls for relationship—meaning both parties are required to offer the same humanity to one another. In a Just Love world, we dare to see addicts or any marginalized persons, as more than something they’ve done or not done. Just Love extends God’s patient, loving attitude to the least of these. Simple.

Most importantly, with Just Love I don’t necessarily have to turn away from my addicted/alcoholic sons. My friend hasn’t always seen it my way, asking if my addicted loved ones are getting the better part of the deal.

But on this day, my friend and I had switched places. Instead of her patiently tolerating my heartfelt belief in supporting my addicted/alcoholic sons, refusing to kick them out until they achieve sobriety, now she was the one who contemplated hanging in there for her husband.

“He had a knife,” I countered. “He could have killed you!”

“But I love him,” she said quietly. “How can I give up on him?”

The week before, she’d raised questions: What did Just Love look like if an addicted or mentally ill loved one acted out violently? Should we accept her even if she endangers lives? How about if he’s verbally or emotionally abusive?

I still wanted to protect my friend, but I had to admit: this is what Just Love looked like from the outside. And watching her suffer, love wasn’t simple at all.

While I was quick to want to separate my friend from her spouse, now she grappled with the same heartbreaking ideas that have dogged me: Do I cut bait and save myself? Which is better—Tough Love or Just Love?

I knew which option I’d choose for her—get the heck out of there before something terrible happened. But to be fair, I tried to see the situation from her vantage point. Suddenly things looked much different.

First, I had to admit that my friend seems to understand things about her husband that I don’t. She loves him for reasons that I can never know.

By that standard, I can’t stop loving my grown children, addictions and all. When it comes to the marginalized—people at the bottom of society who are kept down by punishment, shunning or fear, our knee-jerk reaction is to turn away. But according to the Bible, love is the best response, the response God requires of us.

But it’s not hard to love your own flesh and blood. When I viewed this same belief as an outsider, I began to understand why so many friends (and some who are just tired of my point of view) insist I adopt Tough Love with my sons.

They care.

They want me to be safe and happy—exactly what I want for my friend. And I’ve always said that I draw the line at violence—my sons’ or anyone else’s. From where I sat, the whole suicide scene must have been dangerous: she’d removed the knife from her husband’s hand as he sat nearly comatose. He’d swallowed a boatload of pills, too. But what if he’d played dead, only to attack her with that knife?

“He’d never do that,” she said.

Only a couple weeks before, I’d said the same thing when my meth-fueled son made menacing gestures at a big pot of boiling water on the stove just inches away from me. I didn’t know for sure, but because I’m his mom, I bet that I knew him better than most. I gambled that he wouldn’t hurt me.

She insisted her husband would never lift a finger against her, either. We both sensed our loved ones wouldn’t harm us. You might say we each relied upon a kind of deeper knowing that helped us through it.

This deeper knowing sometimes backfires. Domestic violence sometimes does turn deadly. I hate that. And I would never sentence anyone to a lifetime of abuse from someone who supposedly loves them. Sometimes the hurt is too deep and the bridge is too far and the best thing to do is walk (or run) away—Tough Love as survival.

But in other cases, like mine, Just Love feels more appropriate. My sons aren’t bad or trying to inflict abuse upon anyone but themselves. When my sons have been violent against one another I’ve seen it as the logical end to a bunch of rowdy boys’ drinking bouts. They haven’t shot up the neighborhood or tried to off themselves—well, not that often—and I keep nudging them toward treatment.  I’ve allowed them to stay in my home long past what Tough Love recommends, but in my opinion, not past what God recommends.

Right or wrong, I refuse to give up on them. Now my friend must make the same decisions about her marriage even as the docs work to have her husband committed. To Tough Love him to the curb or keep Just Loving him?

Over and over, God shows us the way of love. Even though we tend to associate love with warm, fuzzy feelings, in practice we experience love as the most dangerous place to be—love settles us in the crosshairs of vulnerability. In moments when we’re already down for the count, love can hurt, reject or abandon us. Anyone who dares to keep loving a misfit, who won’t give up hope even when the rest of the world has walked away, is either angelic or a darned fool. Practicing Just Love isn’t for everybody, but I still believe it is for me.

My friend may decide that detaching with love is her best response to her husband’s problems. Or she may extend the relationship with Just Love. She’ll invest in the hope that the marriage can heal and he’ll promise to work through the issues.

When her husband is released, I hope he never again attempts suicide.  And I hope Just Love helps her stay safe and happy in her marriage just as I hope my sons will seek treatment for their addictions.

To keep this kind of hope alive, we must consider the dangers, and ask ourselves again and again: Dare we risk it all for Love? Live dangerously? For me, God’s answer is always simple. “Just Love,” the One who is Love says, “Just Love.”

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