a struggle of saddness

This morning I found out my husband’s best friend Doug attempted to take his life on Monday.

Two years ago, in February, Doug, was in a snowmobile accident. He amazingly survived. (The medical staff that saw him come into the hospital and worked with him over the next few days would call it a miracle). Doug was in a coma for three weeks and slowly came out of it. After much painful physical therapy and medical assistance (and millions of prayers) Doug was able to go home at the end of April. And a month later he was able to attend our wedding. Later that year he began to walk again – with the assistance of a brace for his left foot, and recently he has been able to walk on his own. Doug in a sense regained a life that was almost lost. A miracle recovery many would call it.

But Doug still struggles (and we struggle with him). For all the celebrations we have for the little steps he has taken physically, he has had an ominous struggle with depression. Doug has, for most of his life, been an incredibly in charge, witty, quick, highly intelligent man. And while he is still witty, intelligent and quicker than most – he has not been the Doug that we used to know.

This last Monday, Doug attempted to take his life. Feelings of pride and confidence have been overtaken by hopelessness and loss of self worth. The past few months have been a trying and tiring time for his family, and many of his close friends live far away.

At this point, I am at a loss. I don’t know how to be a support to Tim. I don’t know how to best support Doug and his family. I don’t know how to be useful. I know all the things about letting people know that I am thinking of them and praying, but that feels like so little. I don’t know how this will affect our lives here. I do know that it is at times like this when I feel I have a better understanding of how insignificant so many of our concerns really are.

It is at times like this that I wish that this community that I am trying to bring together was already established and I could go to someone’s house and cry for Doug and his wife and their children and have others sit with me and cry for Doug and his wife and their children.

Although Doug survived his accident, there has been great loss. Each time we hear from him it is a reminder. And we struggle to let go of our expectations of who Doug was and find ways to love who Doug is. We want to love this man who has been a sacred part of Tim’s life for the better part of 20 years, and we do. Which is why it is painful to listen to his sadness, to hear him struggle, to feel helpless, to be helpless.

“There is a time to weep and a time to laugh and a time mourn and a time to dance” (Ecc 3:4) and as much as we want to dance – we also want to know how to live in the weeping.