Career Day

David was a shepherd boy. When he was about 15 years old, the prophet Samuel showed up in Bethlehem and anointed him as King of Israel (1 Samuel 16). But it wasn't until David was 30 that he actually took the throne and began to reign as King. I wonder if, on career day at the local Bethlehem Elementary School, David dressed up with a robe and a crown and dreamed of being king. Maybe he dressed up as a shepherd or a soldier or a musician - because those were all 'careers' he pursued. I can relate to David.  

We had career day at school when I was a kid. I was probably 9 years old and I dressed up in a suit and carried a leather briefcase that my Dad had purchased at a garage sale. I was a lawyer. I didn't just want to be a lawyer, that day, I was one. I felt successful. I looked good. The briefcase felt natural in my tiny hand. I could probably smack some law & order around my fifth grade class with it if I was strong enough to swing it around. It was the perfect career path for an ambitious little 9 year old Jessica. There were things I was good at and things I wanted in life that came naturally to me. I wanted to argue, win and get paid lots of money for doing it. I wanted justice. Law and order. That's my personality. 

But God came in the way He does in my life, out of left field where He'd been calling my name for quite a while, and He changed the course of my life. Instead of letting me chase the dollar and seek justice (or heaven forbid, help the bad guy so I could make the really big bucks), He called me into ministry. Like church ministry (hence my Twitter handle @churchladyjes). 

Church ministry, the place where you get paid quarters per hour, you turn the other cheek and you offer mercy, forgiveness and love. And that's what I did for about a decade (some of those years I wasn't even on staff, I was volunteering and getting paid in hugs and God's blessing on my life). 

I left my staff position at our church two and a half years ago when I gave birth to our daughter, Emery. I left for no other reason than Brad and I believed that God wanted me to be at home with her while she's little. It's a blessing to get to be home. I recognize that. I also recognize that God has called me to serve Him further than the walls I live in and He's been pressing that issue down on my heart lately. But for the flippin' life of me, I have NO idea what He's calling me to do. 

I've been struggling with my purpose, identity and insecurity. It's been a stronger struggle as of lately than ever before in my life. I find it frustrating. I'll be 34 at the end of this month. Shouldn't I be past this part? Shouldn't I be living out my purpose, identity and security instead of figuring it out? Yes, yes I should. Or maybe not yet. Maybe this is part of His plan for my life. Maybe this is the exact season of life I'm supposed to be in. The season where if I don't rely on Jesus as my purpose, identity and security, I'll act in my own pride, arrogance and flesh - and then I'll screw it all up (and I'll probably take some people down with me as I fall).  

David waited to be king. He waited for God to establish his place on the throne. He didn't kill King Saul to hurry up God's plan or 'help' God out. He waited on God's timing. He waited for 15 years. He walked the earth as the unknown, incognito King of God's chosen people. (Okay, he was 'known' in his circles - I think the Bible says that Saul had thousands of followers on Twitter but David had tens of thousands. Yeah. That sounds right.) But ultimately, he remained known by only One - the only One who mattered until it was "time" for him to go nationally 'viral' and take his seat on the throne. 

David whined & cried when it got hard. Especially when he was hard pressed by his enemies who were out to kill him. He's attributed as writing about 78 of the Psalms. I love the Psalms. Praising God one verse and in the next crying "Why did you leave me? Do you not love me? Why don't you just kill me or let me die?". 

I'm David. You're David. We've all been there. (Unless you're the person who dressed up as a lawyer on career day and then grew up and actually became a lawyer. If you're that person, chances are, we're not friends.) You're asking God, "Didn't you tell me I was gonna do (insert your calling here)?" Then you begin to question your "calling". Maybe you made it up. Maybe it wasn't the voice of God you heard calling you to be a doctor, a lawyer, a missionary, a wife, a dad...and your calling gets swept away by fear, panic and impatience. 

It's Career Day, people. What do you wanna be? Who do you wanna be? I'm asking God to give me clear direction for my life. I trust Him. He will tell me...when it's time. Until then, I'm clinging to Romans 11:29, "for God's gifts and His call are irrevocable." 

Irrevocable. 

Don't give up on Career Day. Grab your briefcase or your stethoscope or your Bible or your fireman's jacket, say a prayer, and START in a direction and after you start...

KEEP GOING!

#startexp

Don't Blame Yourself

Didn't I begin this "Top Ten" like a month ago? Sorry. 
(This is the #1 "Don't" on my list...drumroll please)

Suicide Survivor's Top Ten Things To Do (or NOT Do). 

DON'T BLAME YOURSELF

The words we heard more than any other following my Dad's suicide were, "He was on my mind the week he died. I should have called him." I nodded, put my hand on hundreds of shoulders, hugged them and reassured the person standing in front of me that his death wasn't their fault. 

It wasn't. 

Their phone call wouldn't have made much difference to my Dad. He had made up his mind. It was done. 

But that phone call, the one his friend didn't make, made a difference to that friend when they were attending the funeral of the person they didn't call when they knew they were supposed to call. 

Dad had been on my mind the week he killed himself. I felt a tug inside my heart to call him the day he went missing. I thought of him many times throughout that day. I even remember thinking, "Why is he on heart this heavily today? What is he up to?"  

But I still didn't call him. 

We guilt ourselves into believing that our phone call would have been the turning point in the other person's life. Is that prideful? Hopeful? I don't know. I do know that I let it go very early on in my grief recovery. Guilt was the place I knew that I wouldn't emerge from if I let myself dwell there for very long. I never looked at any of Dad's friends and thought, "Yes, it was your phone call that would have made my Dad stop drinking, go to rehab and turn his life around. It's your fault he's dead." That's ridiculous. I realized that if it was ridiculous for any of them, it was ridiculous for me also. So I forgave myself for not calling him. 

But here's my life lesson: when something inside of you says to call someone or send them a text or drop a card in the mail, then DO IT. (Yes, I just suggested snail mail on the internet machine! I feel like the hipster police might arrest me any minute and take away my MacBook Pro.)

Listen to the voice inside your heart and head. Obey that voice. Take the time to let the person know you're thinking of them. You don't have to fix them. That's not your job. Your job is to obey God's voice inside of you. Offer another person life, hope and love. Offer them Jesus with skin. I know it sounds so corny and seventh grade church camp fire with Reverend TimTom strumming his guitar while singing "Lead your friends to Him. Win them with your grin. Be a good friend. Be Jesus with skin." (Yes I just wrote that beautiful chorus. I'm available for weddings as well as seventh grade church camp fires.) 

But I actually mean it. Be Jesus with skin because what is Jesus so great at doing during prayer? Listening and interceding. Be that to someone. Listen to them. And then intercede for them. Pray with them. Pray for them. Your phone call may not change anything, but your prayer could move heaven and earth. 

Obey God's leading. Always obey. Blessing follows obedience. Regret follows disobedience. Don't live in regret anymore. Live in obedience to our life giving God. Because after the funeral the person you have to live with is yourself. Be a person you can live with.

And when you want to start playing the blame game with yourself don't. Just don't. You won't win. Pray and ask God to release you from that guilt. Ask God to help you to obey the next time He prompts you with His leading.  You can't live in the regret of the past if you want to be of use to Him today and, believe me friend, He's got SO much for you to do today! 

So let it go into His hands and as always:

Keep Going!

Share Your Story

Suicide Survivor's Top Ten Things To Do (or NOT Do):

SHARE YOUR STORY

I realize I already said, "Keep a journal." That's the place where you include every single detail, down to the miniscule. Write all the goriest details of your journey in your journal/diary.  

Figure out your "safe people." These are the people you can say anything to. You can cry, scream, cuss, confess and pray with these people. These people are the ones who don't judge you, no matter what. You'll probably only have one or two of these people in your life during your loss (or ever). They can handle your grief. They will process it as a listener and they'll only guide you when you ask or when you're sinking so low that a rescue is necessary. You can over-share with your people, your tribe (as the hipsters say). 

At some point you'll over-share with someone who isn't your BFF. You'll meet for coffee and you'll end up spilling the beans. You'll feel a little sick to your stomach for the diarrhea-of-the-mouth that just happened in the conversation. Over-sharing is uncomfortable, for you and for the person you're sharing with. You have to edit to decide what is helpful to others, to meet their current need. Yes, our darkest places can be a light shining on other's paths keeping them from falling into the same holes we've inched our way out of.  Sometimes sharing an inch of the story to help the person standing in front of you in loss and need is better than sharing the ten-mile-journey. You might share your ten-mile-journey with them over time, but when they're only into their journey a quarter of a mile, you don't have to point them to mile marker seven. It might send them into the fetal position sucking their thumb in the corner of Starbucks. And no one wants that. 

I inched my way into sharing. First with my BFFs. They're the only people I talked to for the first several months. Then with my Pastor. Then with a few close friends in my church family (small group tribe). Then with my grief counseling group. Three and a half years after Dad's death, my Pastor asked me to share my story on a Sunday morning, two services, over a thousand people. I edited. I shared. I cried. But I told the story. Best of all, I got to tell the story of how God brought me and my family through it all. HIStory. (Yes, you just got punned.) I told them about how faithful God was during every twist and turn. I told them that without my heavenly Father, I'd never get to see or hold my earthly father again. I got to share the Gospel. I shared the greatest story ever told, the story of Jesus. Oh how I love to tell the story!

This Sunday I get to share that story again with my friend's church across town. I'm so excited that I get to offer them the hope of the Savior who conquered death. I'm so humbled that God lets me open my mouth and offer Him praise. If you're willing to share and bear your heart, He'll give you a captive audience. Be ready for it!

Share your story. 

Keep going. 

Don't Expect to Find a Suicide Note

Suicide Survivor's Top Ten Things To Do (or NOT Do):

Don't EXPECT To Find a Suicide Note

I expected to find a note from Dad following his suicide. He didn't leave one. He didn't leave a card or an email or anything. He just left. 

Back then I thought everyone left a note before they followed through with suicide. I thought that was a given. Probably because I like to write, whether in my journal or on twitter & FB or on this blog. I figured if someone was contemplating something super serious like life and death, and they chose death, they would write and tell us why. But I soon found out from reading everything I could lay my eyes on about suicide that most people who complete suicide do not leave a note. Only 18%-37% of people leave a suicide note. That means that 63%-82% of people who complete suicide do not leave a note. 

Dad did not leave a note.

I wanted a note because I thought it would bring me some closure. It would explain "why" and I could tuck it away and give a flat answer when someone asked "Why did he do it? He had so much to live for." I could whip out my "Well, in the note he left he said he explained that he was an alcoholic and he was really depressed. He thought we'd all be better off if he wasn't hanging around making life especially difficult anymore." Yeah, I thought that would make me feel better. That sounds ridiculous to me now. But eight years ago, it made me feel...I dunno, like I was off the hook. I thought if there would have been a note, then I wouldn't have to process, wrestle with and struggle through the "Why's". Silly silly little 2005-Jessica. One of the greatest lessons that God taught me through Dad's suicide was: faith begins where answers stop. Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence for things not seen." 

On this side of Heaven, this is what I know:

• I will never get a concrete answer as to why my Dad killed himself. 
• I will never get an answer from God as to why He didn't stop my Dad. 
• I did forgive my Dad.
• I do still trust God. 

A suicide note would not have necessarily made Dad's death easier to comprehend. It would never give me an answer that was good enough to satisfy my heartbreak. Even if your loved one left a suicide note, I'm guessing you still have millions of questions you're ready to ask him/her when you see them again. 

So here's the life lesson I walked away with: 

I can't put my faith or hope in anything that I can put my mind around. 

Because that thing would be a very, very small thing indeed. 

Go to Him with your questions. And....

...Keep going!