We’re currently experiencing a new plague in this country of rampant teen suicide. A classmate of my kids shot himself the other day and there is nothing but devastation in the wake of this event. I could write paragraph after paragraph citing past experiences of such losses and countless psychological and spiritual concerns and biases.
I wrote “I’m Sorry” about a dear friend, a former girlfriend, who committed suicide in high school. I was fifteen at the time and wrote it sometime between the day she died and her funeral as I remember playing it for a group of friends after the ceremony.
We're experiencing an intense political climate, one fraught with such opposing views and, as usual, the so-called voice of Christianity at the center of it. I just read a nasty post from a friend on Facebook who laughed at the recent right-wing defeat and said the joke was on Christians when they die and realize there's no Jesus or heaven.
These are perplexing times, no? So many changes in the world around us via technology, politics, the capacity to express ourselves freely in an on-line setting… Yet I hear so much grumbling about friendship, family, and love.
I remember Freddy Church.
I wrote a song about him, “Freddy’s Dead” after I found out that he had committed suicide during his battle with aids. It broke my heart to hear that someone felt so lost, so all alone… so God-free. Yet, this was at the beginning of the epidemic and he was certainly without hope of recovery and guaranteed continual, increased suffering. It was self-euthanasia, something that is quite prevalent twenty-plus years later in the AIDS community.
I recorded the song The Night Comes (written by my former brother-in-law Brian Tucker) because it’s the best Please Don’t Die Without Jesus song ever written. Today I wish I had a song about the night coming that not only referred to our Final Destination but These Dark Times as well.
Sometimes I think we as humans fail to realize that we’ve all joined a party that started long before we arrived, one that will continue long after we leave. Out attitude and perspectives often reflect an ownership that goes way beyond filling our shoes and taking responsibility for the lives we have been given.
When God closes a door, he opens a window, right? What if the windows are locked too? Sometimes we really are locked out and not privy to the things we desire or require.