My Fathers Song

Overwhelmed, that's the best word to describe my feelings. Last Tuesday a terrible event happened in our church, a very loved and well known member lost his battle with depression and anxiety and in what I can only imagine as the lowest moment he took his own life. It was as if a shock wave blew through the hearts of our church members. We were all stunned, confused, and heart broken for him and the family he left behind. I couldn't even grasp the pain his poor children were feeling. What's more is that the majority of people didn't have a clue that he was even close to considering it, he was a servant in the church. He was often volunteering for our children's program, had just gone with his oldest son to Alaska to a mission site our church frequents, he was a member of the worship team singing in the choir, and he was always ready to support and lend a helping hand. His outer appearance in no way hinted at his inner struggles, always a chipper happy attitude, well dressed and good looks.

That night I came to the church early, hoping to work on song writing with the youth band leader. I was met by students who were heart broken, because they knew his sons and daughter. Questions like "How could this happen!?" and "Why would he do that to them!?" were immediately asked. One student asked the band to come get him when we were ready to pray because he wanted to be apart of it. As we set down I took that moment to address suicide and how it isn't a solution or an easy way out. I told them that this world and generation were ripe with people dealing daily with depression, anxiety, and thoughts of suicide. I told them that there was always hope in Christ! That they should confess these thoughts and feelings to a mature Christian how can help them, or take them to get proper help. I told them that getting help from doctors and counselors was nothing to be laughed at or ashamed of.

One by one the students encouraged each other not to let the that family fall away from the church or from Christ. They each challenged each other to bring those boys closer to God, to love them unquestionably. After a long time of prayer we worshiped, we poured our breaking hearts out to God. We didn't have to understand it, we didn't have to have a resolution, but God did come down and join us.

That night at home my father sat us down, he opened up and shared all the families struggles of the day. He is never so open, but he wanted us to see the pain that suicide leaves behind so that we would never be tempted to it. My heart broke and the rest of the night I cried for the family. When I realized just how far the scars from this would stretch out in their lives I was overwhelmed. Even the daughters wedding day would be fringed with sadness because her father would not be there to walk her down the isle.

Sunday came, the band worshiped and people were baptized, the band was practically floating on the love of God. Even after the worship set they could not be silent or contain the excitement they felt when reading Romans 8 and hearing God's love and acceptance proclaimed. They amazed me. Then our pastor stood and gave a message full of love that The Father has for us. That He takes great pride in Him adopted children, to the point that he doesn't even see a difference in us and Christ as His children. Then he shared Zephaniah 3:17, our father sings over us. I was inspired, I was writing and couldn't stop. That day, from that verse and with the memory of the family, I wrote a song. I am amazed at the hope that The Father gives, despite the utter hopelessness of this life and the seemingly unending darkness we face. There is a hope because there is Christ, He is hope.