But if we don’t understand the darkness people endure, it’s much less likely we’ll reach them in it. We are called to be the light of the world, a refuge for the broken and weary. And I’m reminded how little the church knows about depression and suicide. They had never heard what it’s like to be suicidal and they started to understand, at least a little. I remember my colleagues’ faces as my words sunk in. Our hearts are breaking with those in such pain. Several of our friends’ kids have attempted suicide, shocking their church communities. Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade ended their lives last week. The last two weeks have brought news of too many people wanting to die. I told them it’s like dying of a terrible disease and wishing I could hurry it up, knowing things would only get worse. So I told them about the physical pain, the exhaustion, the heaviness. Finally, someone asked what it’s like to want to die.
My coworkers stared, jaws dangling in breathless shock.
“I do.” For the first time in my life, I spoke up. I swallowed hard and let out the breath I’d been holding. My insides rattled when my coworker said he didn’t understand what would make someone feel like taking their life was the only option. The familiar ache and nausea filled my chest.
Eventually, somebody mentioned a friend-of-a-friend who had died by suicide. I was in California on a business trip, just yards from the beach, eating ice cream and laughing as the conversation drifted away from business.
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