Hope of the Hopeless

Saturday, December 17, 2011: Today I am feeling especially emotional, partly because Christmas is a mere eight days away and it will be here and gone before we know it; partly because I am worried for big and little folks in my life who are facing struggles that seem beyond their capacity to endure; and partly because the evidence that life can change in the blink of an eye once again reared its unpredictable head.

A friend from chorus ended her own life this past week. I am reeling with shock and sadness.

In the past few years, Marilee had faced and conquered a devastating cancer diagnosis & treatments. She lost her beautiful hair. She lost her long eyelashes and lovely curved eyebrows. In the past few months, she was involved in several car accidents and other health issues. Through it all, she had tried to remain hopeful and positive and was always grateful for the good things in her life, like her son & daughter-in-law and precious granddaughter. The last time I saw her was at chorus rehearsal two weeks ago. I remember thinking how good it was that her hair was growing back, curly and thick. I should have told her. She was always so gracious giving and receiving compliments. She would say, "Thank you for noticing," or "Thank you for saying so," or "Thank you for asking how I'm doing." I should have taken that extra five seconds to tell her how pretty she looked. It may not have made that much difference if she was struggling emotionally already, but it may have given her a bit of hope. Because, obviously, Marilee had begun to feel hopeless. She had come to a point where she no longer considered that "this too shall pass". She was lost in doubt and darkness. Taking a few too many pills and going to sleep must have seemed the best of all propositions in her life.

I once had a brief taste of that hopelessness, many years ago. It was long after midnight and I was driving aimlessly around town, my family sound asleep at home. I was screaming my frustration and discouragement and anger at myself to God, pleading with him to take away the pain of the mistakes I had made and the pain I was causing others. I finally stopped the car in an abandoned parking lot and I must have pounded the steering wheel and cried for over an hour until I was exhausted. That's when the Master of Lies whispered to me how sweet it would be to just end it all, to have an end to pain, to have an end to worries, to have an end to sorrow. I actually listened to him for a moment. I actually considered it. But just as quickly, I thought of my children, home asleep in their beds. I thought about the aftermath of such an act, and there was the difference. I put myself away and reached out and pulled in any source of comfort I could find, which happened to come most abundantly from my Savior. He ran to help me, to save me from the darkness. I can't say life was perfect from that moment on, but it held hope. And in all the days and months and years since that night, it has continued to hold hope. He is the hope of the hopeless. I wish Marilee had let that light push away her darkness.

I want to try to sing with a small group from chorus at her funeral on Wednesday. I hope she will see how much she was loved and will feel our hearts giving her those compliments we should have said before. At this Christmastime, we must be kind to everyone because it could be the difference between the Light of Life and the darkness of lies. There is always hope. It is a truth the world was created for, that "all mankind may be saved" by the love of their Lord and Redeemer, through faith on His name and obedience to His commandments. I know this is true, Marilee. God bless you...