Suicide.

As a chaplain, I have a duty to minister to those affected by it. It’s not an enjoyable part of my vocation as a minister of the gospel. However, it comes with the territory.

I love what I do, however. I think it’s because I’m called irrevocably by God to shepherd. And shepherding can be pretty dark at times. The valley of the shadow of death is just that–a valley.

Regardless of the means, suicide is dark. I would think I’m not that different from any other person. I have known profound sorrow, profound loss, profound isolation, etc. We’ve all had “those days” where all seemed lost.

But to get to a place where ending one’s life by my own hands, well, I just have not crossed that threshold. But others have. I am not here to judge others’ pain. I am here to try, like my fellow Christian ministers, to help–to come alongside others. I aim to do that by showing up in time.

Recently I had a close friend who is also a military chaplain. He is on the front lines with this latest suicide. He is having to try and minister to the family and friends of the fallen. He is ministering to fellow soldiers.

But what does one say? Oftentimes, it’s what we don’t say; it’s simply that we are there–to sit, pray, come alongside, grieve, weep, hold hands, weep some more, and say, perhaps at the right time, “I’m here now. And I’m here tomorrow, too.”

There are so many ‘reasons’ victims often articulate before they end their lives–loss of a relationship, loss of standing, loss of money, loss of a job, loss of a friend, loss of purpose, loss of connection, loss of belief in goodness, etc. Loss, loss, loss. The list could go on.

But labels don’t return the person to us or to their loved ones. The person is still gone. At least, he’s gone from us. For now.

There’s something in us that longs for explanation. We want to know why. The reality is that sometimes people get to places in life where they believe no life is preferable to their current life. That is tragedy in its most profound sense.

I do not purport to have any answers that other much wiser people have not articulated time and time again. But I do aim to just share this: if you’re in that valley, I (and others) are here. We do care and we will come alongside you and labor to show you demonstrably that all is not lost. That is not psychlogical mumbo-jumbo or bubble gum bromide; it is true.

For my fellow chaplains and Christian ministers, I appreciate you. You, too, are carrying a lot of invisible weight in your spiritual ruck, and it gets heavy. Press on, brothers. The Lord has you in these lives to live as salt and light. Let’s work hard in service to the truth, trusting that the Lord knows our labors, that they’re not in vain, and that God can and does use darkness to bring forth light.

Let us live our creed–to nurture the living; care for the wounded; and honor the fallen.