God knows...

...but we don't. It's getting to be just that simple for me.

Tonight I looked at a photo of my family from around the time we adopted our son, Christopher. He was about six months old at the time, our oldest son was almost two years old, and my wife and I never looked better. We were such a happy and beautiful family that I began telling people that we were 'the family that God built' because I knew He was the only One who could create such a family. And we were such a family.

We went on to become the poster family for the adoption agency that we went through to adopt our sons. From there, we spoke at churches and other functions in an effort to inspire other African-American families to do what we had done. We even participated in a pro-life rally in Montgomery, Alabama where I had the opportunity to sing and speak on the steps of the Capitol building! Our future was definitely bright and very promising, as I believed every word of Jeremiah 29:11. Once when our boys were older and we were expecting (finally!) our daughter, we received a prophetic word from the Lord that our entire family would be on stage ministering 'family.' 

We also went on to experience our share of raising teenagers, and the challenges therein, along with our share of family dysfunction and malfunction. We seemed to be becoming a typical family, while trying to live godly as much as we knew how to. High school, football games, and dating made their way into our lives as well, along with behavioral issues, personality developments and conflicts, and bad habits, like smoking and sneaking out of the house. But it wasn't all bad. There was a lot to laugh about, which we did - a lot. And there is a lot to be proud of, which I am.

But who knew of the tragedy lurking around the corner waiting to strike our family? We certainly didn't. God did. And the only thing He told us, prophetically, was that there was a spirit of death in our home that we took authority over. Or did we? Could we? Looking back, we did everything we knew to do at that time, especially me being the strong man that Jesus spoke about in Matthew 12. I addressed the devil and my son on several occasions about their futures according to the scriptures. But who knew? God did. From the time we first laid eyes on him as a three month-old baby and my wife later had a 'burden' that we should adopt him.

If it is true that God knows the end from the beginning, and then in Ecclesiastes declares that the end of a thing is better than its beginning, then God must know something that we don't. And I think He chooses not to reveal it to us mostly because He knows that we will not believe and follow His plan or we will do like Peter and try to thwart it. How many times have we taken Him aside and rebuked Him because we didn't like what He said and thought it was the devil? Only to find, again like Peter, that WE get rebuked for playing the devil's advocate?  A Christian songwriter once wrote,

"God is God and I am not.
I can only see a part of the picture He's painting.
God is God and I am man.
So I'll never understand it all, for only God is God."

This answers everything in our lives that we can't explain and don't understand. God alone reserves all the rights and privileges to be, do, and know. We, on the other hand, reserve the right and privilege to trust Him, knowing that He knows what we don't. Jeremiah says it best in chapter 9:24, "...but let him who boasts boast about this: that he understands and knows Me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice, and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight." I find great comfort, peace, and strength as I allow myself to accept and rest in this truth.

Faith is...what?

I am mainly asking myself -again- what I really believe and why. Most of the time I am pretty sure of what I believe, I am just not sure why. Other times it seems the other way around. The rest of the time I am not so sure that I am sure of anything...except my faith in a God that I have never seen. This is the new underlying current of my life when all else makes no sense...God.

I am also learning a lot about what faith is not. I have spent many years in faith 'movements' that have helped me to understand certain aspects of it, but nothing like the one that is moving me right now. What do you do when all that you believe gets a curve ball thrown at it? Or is blind-sided? One thing I have learned is that I held a bat with a curve that was bigger than I ever imagined and that I have been paying premiums on a far greater 'assurance' policy than I realized. This is another aspect of faith...it is meant to see me through the difficult times, just as it has seen me through the good times in my life. And it takes the same amount, a grain of mustard seed. Sometimes, like now, I feel that is all I have and that it is enough. The same thing Jesus told Paul when He said, "My grace is sufficient (enough), for My strength is made perfect in weakness..."

I am also learning that faith is trust and true faith is trust in God, whether I am facing the Red Sea, the lions' den, or Golgotha. And aren't we as believers told to take up our cross and follow Him, denying our selves? That takes some serious trust! Especially when we understand the purpose of a cross and it's final destination. Never in all my years as a 'Christian' have I known this kind of trust in Jesus as Savior and Lord, and yet now it seems this is where He has been leading me all along. I have made several commitments to follow Him, the last one being at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, a time when I mean it wholeheartedly and my future seemed more uncertain than ever before.

Now if faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen, then what I am hoping for is changing as I become more aware that it is Christ in me, the hope of glory and my life is hidden with Him in God to be fully revealed at the last day (along with my faith). And without (true) faith (in God), it is IMPOSSIBLE to please Him, because in order to come to Him I must first believe that He is (exists). And if I seek Him diligently, then the reward is finding HIM, which also means to find my true self that has been hidden away with Christ in Him. Right now this diligent search means so much more to me than anything I have ever applied my 'faith' to, including trying to keep my son alive or bring him back from death. Why? Because my life, ultimately, and the saving of many others heavily depend on it.

"Here I am..."

"...at the end, I'm in need of resurrection. 
Only You can take this empty shell and raise it from the dead. 
What I've lost to the world, what seems far beyond redemption 
You can take the pieces in Your hand and make me whole again."
-Resurrection, Nicole Smith


One year after my son's death, I feel like this is where I am. Lately, there has been this hollow feeling deep inside me that I can't locate or explain. But it's there. So may things I once knew, had, understood, did, and sought after have all somehow made it down into this hollow space and never to return. It's almost as though God has gotten into the control panel of my heart and life and uninstalled some programs and sent them to the recycle bin to be deleted. Now I am waiting for new necessary programs to be installed...upgrades, if you will.


And this is not a bad thing. I am thinking about what Paul said in Philippians about counting all things loss in exchange for the excellency of knowing Jesus, the One for whom I have suffered the loss of these things that I may ultimately win Him (whatmichaelbrownthinks paraphrase). With every loss there is a void that must be filled with something. It is becoming my belief that only Jesus can and wants to effectively fill these voids with Himself, but we have to allow Him to do so. What He fails to mention is the awful pain associated with these losses that are designed to get us to that place of need. If we don't allow Him to fill those empty places they will be filled with something. And without death there can be no resurrection, something He knows full well.


I do not believe that He gives and takes away, as Job stated, but rather that He is the One who replenishes what has been taken away. And in His sovereignty He allows things in our lives to be lost so that there can be a true redemption of those things, and even our very lives. If it is true that He chose us to bear fruit that will remain, then He must know what needs to be pruned from us in order to produce that fruit. We are not the gardener - nor the potter - only the new creation that He is trying to make. And being created in His image and likeness, He is the only One who knows what the end result will look like. (1 John 3:2)

a father's pain...

Someone once told me that I am a 'Bill Cosby' dad. This was during the time my wife and I were expecting our daughter. I was so excited that I only missed one appointment from the time we first learned we were pregnant until she was born and I was constantly talking to her and cradling her...while she was in the womb! My two sons were adopted so I missed that time with them, which I believe is a very critical time in their lives. Nevertheless, I was with my oldest when he was circumcised at about age 2 and I got to see my second son first learn to crawl (backwards!) and then take his first steps.

As they all grew to crawl, walk, talk, and eventually run my heart grew more tender toward them when they  stumbled. Once my daughter fell trying to run to me. My oldest son got his hand caught in an exercise bike and cried for me until I got home. My second son almost blew his hand off with a smoke bomb. As they became older there were roller blades, scooters, and bikes and the boys played football and, of course, the bumps and bruises grew worse. You see, they knew that I was always the one who removed the splinters, glass fragments, and ticks and whatever else I could do to 'make it better.' I think it was probably more for ME to feel better because my heart would ache knowing that they had hurt themselves in any way. Once my second son had a toothache that hurt so bad it brought him to tears and because he was bigger than I -and a little stronger- it took everything I had to try to hold him and comfort him, especially when we went to the emergency room to get it looked at. I remember telling him that if I could make it go away I would. I think that may have helped a little, though we both knew that I couldn't.

So imagine how my heart ached and broke when I looked up into my attic and saw this same son hanging from a rope tied around his neck. After climbing up there (in a matter of seconds) and feeling that same pity as always I asked him, "Boy! What have you done?" I held him and cried for what seemed like an eternity until we cut him down and laid him to rest in the insulation. But then there came a peace that I can't explain as I began to realize he wasn't hurting anymore from the pain he had been feeling inside. He himself had found a way to make that go away. And just like the toothache, I wished there was something I could have done to make it all better, but we both knew that I couldn't. Especially not this time. Somehow I feel like I did take at least some of his pain, and not just because of my grief and sorrow, but rather in beginning to understand just how much he was really hurting inside. And I still find myself trying to do something about it...

losing more than a son

This is probably more my own personal experience than my opinion, although I do believe that any death of any loved one in any way has lots of losses attached to it. However, when the death is suicide, it seems to cut deeper and much wider. I am referring mostly to relationships. From family to friends (even enemies) and everything in between. For me, grieving would be a lot easier and would probably have ended by now had it only been over the loss of my son. I must admit, I was dealt a blow above and below the belt that I just didn't see coming! Even if someone had warned me, I don't think that would have lessened the blow much.
I have found myself concluding within myself that I am not the one who committed suicide. Neither am I the one who caused my son to commit suicide. Yet people who were close to me have made me feel as though I have a terminal disease that is contagious or that I am now wearing somewhat of a 'scarlet letter' on my breast to keep them away, lest they too should become affected/infected by it. Yet in the center of that crowd of onlookers and passers-by I am here with Jesus as He writes in the sand and turns my would-be accusers away one by one.
I am learning - the hard way - that it really doesn't have anything to do with me or my son, but rather a struggle within themselves to deal with the shocking and sudden reality that suicide brings like no other. To ask questions that can't be answered yet. And to ignore the very obvious which can't be ignored. Not realizing that I struggle with all of these but much more frequently. And until we face these very difficult and painful issues head-on, we will never experience the freedom and peace that really does transcend our understanding.
Only then, I believe, can we truly be there for those survivors of suicide who really need someone to just...be there.
There is a bright side to all of this. It seems that through the absence of these people, many others have come along to fill their places and I have been blessed to meet some really warm and caring people who don't seem the least bit turned off by my son's death, but almost attracted to it and not afraid to show it. This too has taught me a lot about my Savior and my God and the heart they must have for people who are suffering. Jesus said in Matthew 5:4 that those who mourn are blessed, for they shall be comforted. If you have somehow found yourself in my shoes, then I encourage you to find comfort in Him and His words.

...and another one gone

Yes, another teenager has committed suicide. Well, I know there have been several but I was closely connected to this one. He was the same age as my son, 17, and he also hung himself at home just like my son. But when they told me that he broke his neck in the process, that really got me to thinking about the pain this young man must have been experiencing on the inside to inflict so much pain on the outside. And what a painful way physically to rid oneself of pain inwardly! I have heard that said about body-piercings and cutting and there must be a lot of truth to that.
But I was also thinking about other outward acts of pain like rape, assault, child abuse, and even murder. Perhaps these all originate from a similar place of pain inside a person that they may be trying to find relief from, but it just doesn't work. Suicide may seem to be an effective means to end the inner pain for those who know no other way, but ironically, it only creates more outward pain for all the surviving loved ones and friends. But there is, I believe, another much more effective Way to deal with the inner pain and His name is Jesus. He will either heal it, remove it, or walk one through it without causing pain to anyone else. This is how I am 'handling' the pain that was caused by my son's suicide and I highly recommend him to everyone out there who may be experiencing something similar or just as painful.

The journey continues...

So now this tragedy seems to be leading me to Israel of all places and I am feeling somewhat thankful to Christopher for this. Jesus said that except see grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies it abides alone, but it yields a harvest. And I believe I am beginning to get a new understanding of this in this season of my life. But it doesn't come without a price and it ain't cheap. Is it worth it though? From God's viewpoint it is. For who understands this better than He?