Some of you have asked me for a copy of what I said the other night at Oxygen. Here you go...
(Began my portion of the message by playing the part of the November 29 Cadre Conference Call where Jeanne is getting back on the line, after jumping off with me to hear the news)
I remember as if it were yesterday, I was standing in the entrance way of the door you came in tonight. My sister was on the other end of the cell phone trying to find the words to tell me that my niece had walked in and found my father had hanged himself. All I can remember is saying “I’m on my way home, I’m on my way home, I am on my way home” … which for me, home is 11 hours away in Indiana.
Jeanne wanted to put me on a plane, but I want to drive … I needed to drive … to cry, scream, beat the steering wheel, to be silent, to talk with Jesus. For most of the way, I had a Jars of Clay song on repeat called “Oh, my God” and that was pretty much my prayer, the cry of my heart, for in one two-minute call, my world had come crashing in on me.
During the drive home, like a bad tape recorder, I replayed the last few moments with my dad in my head over and over again. My dad had interjected some things into a conversation we were having that I missed, but I didn’t have the luxury of knowing what was about to transpire just five days later.
- He talked about how he would have been ok if he died in the hospital a month earlier when his body became toxic from an adjustment in the medicine he was on. But when we talked about suicidal thoughts before, while he had them, he said “I would never ever do that.”
- Later on, he repeated what he had said before, “I wish I would have never bought the house. I wish I would have moved in to an apartment. I wish your brother would have put me in a nursing home.”
- He lived with me for awhile when he had depression before, he said “I enjoyed living together. We had a good thing going.”
- Randomly he said, “Don’t buy me a Christmas present.”
Instead of listening between the lines, you know what I did, I coached him.
- “Dad, that house was a great investment.” He loved to play the stock market and make a buck or two. He loved to know he beat the system.
- “Too bad dad, I already bought you a Christmas present.” I knew he still didn’t feel well and just figured he didn’t feel much like celebrating the holidays.
- “Dad, I promised we’ll get you to the doctor to get you on the right meds. But dad you’ve got to speak up … you can’t say you’re feeling fine when you aren’t. You can say you’re physically fine, but you’re not in your mind. Dad you’ve got to speak up.” Then we talked about other stuff, I hugged and kissed him, said “I love you dad,” then left.
“You’ve got to speak up dad” … those words echo in my mind today. I tell you all that, so that if you ever find yourself in a state of depression that’s lingered, get some help … as Jeanne already mentioned, sometimes it’s a biological thing. If the first person you tell doesn’t listen or fully grasp what you’re saying, tell someone else. Don’t make people have to guess. Don’t make them have to put the puzzle pieces together or figure out the clues you’re trying to send. Don’t buy into the lies the devil tries to sell you like “they’ll think I’m weak” or “I don’t want to burden them.”
But don’t say those words flippantly either. When I got back, I overheard some of the students, after a bad test or a tough day, say things like “I could just shoot myself” or “I just want to jump off a cliff right about now.” With a smile on my face, in a joking but at the same time serious way, I said, “enough with the suicide jokes.”
And don’t be a drama queen or king either by throwing those statements out there to get attention. If you’re down because you’ve just lost your girlfriend or boyfriend of two weeks or even two years, you’re smart enough to know that while it hurts like all get out now, in time it will get better. Get perspective. BUT if it’s lingering, speak up ... speak up.
At the same time, if you’re on the other end of conversation … listen. On the way home that day, I decided I wanted to officiate my dad funeral … I felt Jesus had some things He wanted me to say. In a nutshell, I talked about how we all wished we could get some do-overs in our life, but sometimes you can wish all you want, but a do-over is just not available. Instead, you just need to resolve to do better next time. My resolution was to love people better. After reflecting on my last conversation with my dad, one way I know to love better is by listening better … to lean in and listen, ask better questions, the questions that no one is asking that go beyond the surface chatter. Things like, “Dad, what do mean when you say that?” “Friend, normally when you talk your eyes dance, they aren’t dancing today, what’s up?”
I want to end tonight by saying this … ups and downs, highs and lows, peaks and valleys are a part of life. You heard Jeanne earlier tonight talk about tests you can take to see how prone you are to depression. If I were to take that test, between the my dad’s unexpected tragic death, the holidays, a new job and living in a city hundreds of miles away from my family and friends … my susceptibility to depression score would be off-the-chart. But, I don’t have to take a test, because I can feel it here, inside of me, in my heart. I know I could easily dig myself into hole right now.
For example, it was good for me to drive home for my dad’s funeral, it wasn’t for me to drive home at Christmas. I was heading into a holiday of tradition where a significant member of the family wasn’t going to be there for the first time. I was battling a wave of could of … would of … should of guilt and really just wanted to drive off a cliff or put my gas pedal through the floor board. How many of you know that if I would have dwelled on those thoughts the entire 11 hour drive home, it would not have left me in a good place? While there are no cliffs in Indiana there are a lot of straight-aways to put the gas pedal through the floor board. I HAD THE OPTION TO DWELL OR STAY WELL. I chose not to dwell, but instead to call some friends and think through some product development ideas I have. I wish that was the one and only time I’d ever have to deal with it, but I was getting nailed with it Sunday night to the point I went home from church at 8 and was in bed by 9, when I’m normally just warming up. I laid there in bed, staring at the ceiling for a half hour. At that point, I once again was faced with the option TO DWELL OR STAY WELL I had made a new years resolution to read two books a month and I new if I knocked out a couple of chapters, I’d feel better. So, that’s what I did, I simply got up and read until I got to the point I could sleep. It’s ok for me to process some of my thoughts and feelings about the suicide, but I'm telling you if I park there for any length of time, I am in trouble. It’s in those moments I have to ... and you have to ... decide to DWELL OR STAY WELL. You have to choose to refocus. Even last night, Jenna text me, how’s work going because it was pretty late and I wasn’t home. I responded by telling her that I was working off a funk I was in.
DWELL OR STAY WELL, only you, and you alone, can decide where you are going to allow you head to go … your parents can’t decide for you, your friends can’t decide for you, even Jesus can’t decide … he can help, but he can’t decide for you … you and you alone.
ies for each small group, have them each open one or two, read their wrappers out loud, then talk about the truth, if any, that can be found in the quotes (kind of like I did above). I always wanted to do activities with those coversational boxes of hearts, but couldn't because often times the words were a little on the raunchy side. I think Dove keeps it clean.
