They lived on the same street this man and woman, my street. Both were around sixty. The former used a gun, the latter pills, but the results were the same. Lives were ended. Their lives.

Within the last month these two acquaintances of mine killed themselves. I passed each house on my morning walk and exchanged pleasantries:

“Good morning,” we’d each call out.
“How are you today?”
“Fine. How are you?”
“Fine.”

Sometimes we’d say more. The last time I saw “her” she reminisced about what a godly man her father was and how she still missed him even after all these years. I had no clue, no clue she struggled with depression. No clue she would choose to end her own life.

I’m sad, and I’m afraid.

I’m sad because these two people couldn’t fight their way to the surface; they drowned in their sorrow either unable to grasp hold of hands willing to lift them up, or (horror of horrors) there were no hands extended to them. (Was my hand held out?)

I’m afraid. I’m afraid because I know there are thousands of people just like them suffocated by their life circumstances. People who feel there is no way out of their suffering except through death at their own hands. How many of these people do I know but am unaware of their struggle?

If you are one of those totally overwhelmed by life – PLEASE, STOP!!!! Don’t hurt yourself! There are hands extending out to you! Before you do something drastic, PLEASE write me (or call me if you know me) and let me talk to you and pray for you. I mean it! I’m not just saying it to be nice or because I’m a preacher’s wife. I want to offer a heartfelt cry for mercy to heaven on your behalf. It’s not a bother. It would be my privilege.

There is another hand held out to you which is much stronger than mine:

I waited patiently for the LORD;

a hymn of praise to our God.
~ Psalm 40:1-3

~ Drewe Llyn