I find myself

I find myself aching again.

In light of Robin Williams' suicide yesterday, I find myself aching for a man I didn't know aside from a very public persona and for the man I knew so very intimately and couldn't save.

(As as aside, I know it wasn't my job to save him, but the thought remains none the less.)

I find myself aching for those of us who have lost loved ones to the heartache of suicide.

I see people talking about suicide as the ultimate selfish act and I just want to throttle them.  Actually, throttle is a kind word for what I'd like to do, but I digress.  I see these people who speak as Christians, use their faith as a weapon of shame and cutting, elevating their opinion, airing their self-righteousness and I ache for the people who they hurt - intentionally or not.  I'd really like to think that they are just so entirely self-focused that they can't imagine how their words might land on someone who struggles.

Then I see other writers, who speak as seekers of Jesus.  Writers who's voices I identify with - not knowing but seeking, who encourage people to get help - and suggest that help beyond prayer might be needed, and I am thankful.  Writers who offer understanding and honesty, salve to the wounds of the disheartened and I too, am encouraged.

I don't have the answers.  If you are hurting and aching, please reach out.  Know that there IS help, seek it.  Take the help and find peace.