It's Sunday morning and I should be focused in another direction. Perhaps that's why I'm writing, to get the sadness out of my system, at least temporarily. I don't know that I'll leave this post up.
On the surface, I have little reason to feel as dejected as I do. I am about to lead worship for a congregation that expresses its gratitude for my presence in countless ways. I have been the beneficiary of an endless stream of support and encouragement in the latest glitch in my life. My surviving children are doing extremely well.
It's suicide, I think. I'm not sure that even I can imagine a more profound and complete rejection than that of a child who takes his own life. Even though I am sure that he didn't mean to, in the sense that he had lost the capacity to comprehend what he was doing.
But lately I've been thinking a lot about our life as a family, which was pretty damn wonderful, and with each memory I think, "How could he have forgotten that? How could he have let that go? How could he have turned his back on that?"
And then I am reminded of how completely disoriented he must have been, which only makes me feel worse.
Among the consequences of Josh's death have been many other losses, many things I would have surely done and that our family would have shared, had life been otherwise. Opportunities in ministry that disappeared. The travel we had looked forward to, once the three kids and I were all released from our conflicting school schedules and and our finances were on an even keel again.
It's as if life as a whole rejected us and spit us out.
I've realized in the last few days that this sense of rejection is why breast cancer is, in fact, a big deal. Yes, a mastectomy and months of reconstruction procedures are pretty major: a big loss, week after week of pain and inconvenience, way too much time spent with medical professionals.
But overall, what it feels like is: rejection. I feel as if my body has rejected a rather significant part of myself. I feel as if God has rejected my body. Not good enough to stay basically healthy. Not good enough to remain intact.
It's really hard, some days.