Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 2:3,4 ESV

This week brought back painful memories. My heart-felt condolences to the Robin Williams family. Their grief far exceeds our national grieving. Losing Robin Williams, in the way we have lost him, has brought up the suicide conversation and has compounded the heartbreak. He was much beloved and treasured. I am not a movie buff, but I saw enough of his acting and brilliance to know that there was something extraordinary about him. His death will be one of those tragic losses you will remember “where you were when you first heard the news” akin to when we lost Princess Di, or President Kennedy which are distinctly etched in my memory. The after effect of suicide, the residual impact on a family, school, community, or nation and even world, has a ripple effect that touches everything in its path. 

1989-My sister came down from Oregon for a birthday celebration. Here, she and my mother are visiting in my home. Their birthdays were a day apart. The train candles were for my son on his third birthday, he and Grandma share the day.

I lost my youngest sister to suicide. It will be twenty-one years this September that I got the call, the one that broke my heart, crushed my parents, and hurt so deeply, a pain one cannot adequately describe. My sister was beautiful, talented, and successful. Her life touched many lives. In her thirty-three years, my sister used her gifts to bless others. I was proud of her and her achievements. The shock and sorrow almost buried us. Disbelief and sadness engulfed our days as we traveled to Oregon to bury her. It is a grief like no other. It is a pain I would not wish on anybody.

My family is a family of faith. Things like suicide are not supposed to happen to people in the Church, to people who love God. I used to believe we were exempt because of our faith in Him. It doesn’t work that way. In the years since we lost my sister, I have walked this painful reality of suicide with several Christian families. They have lost mothers, grandparents, uncles, sons, teenagers, and young fathers. It has claimed lovely people in our local area. I identify with the hurt, and I seek to comfort their families. I know the inexplicable pain and the emotional trauma that comes with trying to make sense of such unfathomable loss. “Why?” is never adequately answered.

The spiritual questions related to a person’s suicide go unanswered as well. Not everyone views it the same, about the person’s salvation or even God’s view of that person. The comment we hear that suicide is a selfish act is unkind and hurtful. I couldn’t disagree more. I have come to believe that pain skews perception, the person wants to escape the daily torment. There is a loss of hope that it will ever change or get better. I also believe the Deceiver is whispering in their ear and goading them, the “hearing voices” that people say they experience. He seeks to destroy individuals and families. Many are his victims. This is my opinion, but I think the Deceiver influences sensitive people to believe suicide is their only out. He wants to destroy what God has made and to bring the rest of us to our knees. But God is faithful. He redeems. He will make something new and beautiful from the ashes of life. He gives us a new song.

I made a personal choice that came as a result of my sister’s death. It has made a lasting difference in how I choose to live my life and how I relate to others. My viewpoint and perspective had changed. I saw how fragile life can be.  I decided I would listen more to my children and be less rigid in my parenting, I would listen more to others and be less rigid in my expectations (less judgmental), I would be more affirming of others and less disapproving. It was a conscious choice. I wanted to live in a way that would help people realize their value and know they are loved even when I disagree with their personal choices. It also started me on a path of interest in the emotional side of Christian living, looking for insights and understanding as it relates to the emotionally suffering child of God.

But there are uncomfortable, long-lasting experiences which forever impact us as a result of death by suicide. The person we lost can’t be talked about without a sense of sorrow and regret being present. We blame ourselves and carry a burden of guilt. We wish we would have acted, or called, or cared in some way a little differently than we did. Photos from “before” make you feel sad. They are a reminder of who we miss and what happened. The pain lessens with time, but it never fully fades away. A parent feels that they failed the child. They question what they did wrong. The child who loses their parent, wonders why they didn’t matter enough for them to stick around. Neither is correct. Closure is lacking. Peacefulness is hard to acquire. We blame ourselves. At some point, we have to stop, and then accept that they never meant to hurt us. They didn’t. Pain got the upper hand.

Some in the Chico community know my parents. They are very private people and would never want to talk about this. It is too painful for them. Until now, many of you haven’t known the loss they have endured. My family never let my sister’s death define us, nor has it shaken our faith. But, individually, we have questioned God. We wonder why He allowed it or failed to intervene? The loss of Lois is the single most devastating hurt my parents have ever experienced, and they’ve had a number of them. We don’t often talk about it even after all these years. Some of us can, but most of us can’t. I have found peace in my own way. About ten years after Lois’ death, I asked God to heal me of the hurt in my heart that was associated with her loss. The pain lifted, peace entered, and sorrow lessened. I share publicly because I know it will help others feel less alone in their suffering. It is not easy for me to do so.

My family has changed in some ways as a result of losing my sister. We are more demonstrative than we used to be. My father always greets his family members with a hug and is actively interested in our lives. Mother prays often for all of us but especially for the grandchildren. We have become more compassionate and understanding, less set in our ways and less rigid. We have become more sensitive and less prideful, and we identify with others going through tough times. We have learned how God truly uses our past heartaches as a way to bring comfort to others during their times of misfortune.

I end this with an old song that seems apropos. I shared these words in a Facebook comment to Kay Warren, wife of Pastor Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, when she remembered her son, Matthew, on his birthday this year. She was sharing about her beautiful son who they lost a year ago to suicide. I felt her pain, probably intensified as a high profile Christian having to suffer something so personal in the public arena. I believe God was there to receive her son and to receive my sister. He understood their pain and struggle. Bessie Pearl O’Dell, a former Pastor’s wife from my childhood, spoke at my sister’s memorial service and made us all laugh as she remembered some humorous antics. How good it felt to laugh. a relief during a time of such great sorrow. A few months after Lois left us, I was voicing to Mrs. O’Dell how distraught I was still feeling. She said to me, “God knew Lois was in pain. He was there with her in her suffering. He let her come home.” Her words comforted me. They bring tears to my eyes as I write them.

I believe it will never be ours to understand some things. It is ours to bring good out of the hurt and to bring comfort where it is needed.

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.               

                     Annie Johnson Flint

Norma Brumbaugh

If you would like  to read a tribute I wrote in Lois’ memory on the week of her birthday in 2013, click on the following link.  In Memory of My Little Sis, Lois Faith Brumbaugh.

If you would like information on ways to respond to the family of a suicide victim, click on the following link. How Best to Respond After a Suicide.