Choosing Life

In the Buddhist culture, there is a tale about a woman whose child has died. In her agony, she went to the local guru and begged him to give her her child back.

"Of course," he replied. "Just bring me back a grain of rice from a household that has escaped the pain of grief."

She ran to the cottage next door, and to the one next to that, and to all the cottages in the village, in each one hearing of another grief, another loss.

She did not get her child back, but she learned something of great value: she learned that life by definition is struggle, with suffering its frequent cost, and death its final price. She learned compassion and tenderness. She learned she could drink from any bitter cup without becoming bitter herself, knowing that it was a cup shared by all who had ever lived.

I'd like to tell you about our son Kirk, the way I remember him. He was 6' 8" with a smile that would make the girls go limp and his mother go crazy. I never could impress upon him the importance of consequences, going to college, cutting his hair...and all the other things Mammas worry about! Kirkman means "man of the church" in Scottish, but to Kirk heaven was the open road, art, music and his dog Althea. He'd drive his VW van to California for a Grateful Dead concert and sell Velveeta cheese sandwiches to pay for the gas.

In spite of his scruffy attire he could really polish up well! He had the best manners and the best hugs of anyone in the family. He was the most gentle and he made us all laugh.... until he was murdered on vacation in Jamaica.

Time, since then, has been divided like a meat cleaver between whatever happened before August '95 and what has happened after August '95.

We all know the Biblical imperative to Choose life. I couldn't do that. The most I could do was refuse death...at first. Gradually however, I began to realize that I had a choice in this-- that this pain hurt too much for me to waste it-- to lose the value of it-- to refuse to grow in it-- to neglect the ministry to others who were reeling under it.

I also knew that suffering makes a powerful platform, and if I've ever meant anything I said about the difference it makes to be a Christian, now was the time to either mean it ...or not!

So Swing and I began having potluck suppers for other parents who had lost children, and I began to take some small steps as a clown named "Kirkie."

Kirkie and I planned to go to the Ukraine on August 6 for our first mission trip.

On July 25, the meat cleaver slammed down again.

Our 20 year old son Edward had an acute psychotic break.

We begged him to go to the hospital. He wouldn't.

His best friend begged him to go to the hospital. He wouldn't.

And so we went through the wrenching process of involuntary commitment. As I waited for the Judge to sign the papers, I noticed a display of pamphlets describing the symptoms of various illnesses:

Bulimia, Attention Deficit, Depression, Schizophrenia... Schizophrenia.

That's what the man who had shot the guards at the White House had.

That's what John Hinkley had.

That's what Edward has.

Edward... has... Schizophrenia.

As a parent, you would never want to have the police take your child to the hospital.

As a parent, you would never want to be told to leave the building as your child sobs, "Mom, Mom, please don't leave me! Please don't leave me, Mom!"

As a parent, I would never want to acknowledge that not only our genes but also something in our home environment may have triggered this unspeakable sadness.

But as a Christian, I have a choice. If I cave in on myself and storm my fists at heaven, I will have wasted the pain. All that pain for nothing, and I will become a bitter and lonely wretch of a woman...because even my most patient and loyal friends won't prop me up forever!

Why do I tell you all this? Why would I expose our family to the stigma and fears of mental illness? Precisely because there is stigma. And because if there is ever to be help for Edward and the millions to come, we've got to have the courage to bring it out of the closet and see it for what it is.

First, it is not a disease of violence. 97% of these patients are passive, withdrawn, and very lonely. Brain disease is as much a chemical disorder of skewed messages in the brain as cancer is a chemical disorder of cells attacking cells. There is no cure-yet-- and the suicide rate is a tragic 15%.

God has absolutely overflowed my heart with love for Edward as I realize how long he has been struggling against an undiagnosed illness over which he has had no control.

We are very blessed. God is good.

My life is paring down now as I weave my way through this wondrous road trip called life. Here's a great quote by Frederick Buechner:

"Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of It no less than the excitement and gladness of it: find your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace."

He continues, "What is lost is nothing compared to what is found, and all the death that ever was, when set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup".

When we lose someone, it is so hard not to focus on the death event itself, especially if the loss was sudden or the loved one was very young. I am learning to see that Kirk's death was scarcely a drop compared to the whole ocean of his life. I can remember more easily now the joy of the 24 years he did have without choking on the years he did not.

I am holding on to the promise of Hebrews 12:1:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."

That tells me that all those I have loved who have gone on before are cheering me on from the grandstands of heaven! ...Grandmamma, Bishop Finlay, Daddy, Aunt Marion, Elinor...and Kirk. I will see them again, and Kirk will give me the biggest hug. You too have your cheering section of Saints. Don't lose heart. They are remembering you. Do you remember them?

Forrest Church has written that we tend to think that death comes as a result of sickness, accident, or whatever. Do you know what really causes death?? Life! The real culprit of death is life itself. The price of life is death. Life carries death in its glorious train. Will we live it so that it is worth the price?

So. What do we do with the suffering? We've got a choice. We can either allow it to swallow us whole, or we can determine to find something good in it, something of God in it, and we can be an encouragement and a way-pointer for others. If we do, we will be richly blessed, and we will discover "first hand" that Romans 8:28 is literally true:

"All things (do) work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose."

Caroline Meyer attends Trinity Cathedral in Columbia SC. This article is excerpted from a talk Caroline gave at St John Episcopal Church also in Columbia.