Sorrow upon sorrow

Saturday evening I was sitting in my chair reading and half-watching the Alabama/Tennessee football game. My phone vibrated, telling me that some kind of text message had arrived. I picked up the phone and saw that it was a Facebook message from one of my former students.

This student is the one whose only son was murdered in the summer of 2010. We have had numerous conversations about that and about suffering in general. When we covered the book of Job in class, last fall, the conversations ramped up to a new level. Lately, Missy has been having to re-live the horrors of losing her son, thanks to all the legal proceedings. It has been so hard, because she will go to court as emotionally prepared as you can be, and then the proceedings will be delayed. Frustration. Anger. Sorrow.

The text message on Saturday evening really cut me to the heart, which is unusal. After doing what I do for 30+ years, coupled with years of hospice work, I have developed what all people in the caring business have to have to survive: detached empathy. You still care, but you cannot let yourself get emotionally involved in every problem. You would go crazy. It's a battle. Depression beats on the door.

Her text message read:

My dad. . .shot and killed himself this morning...I just wanted you to pray for me as this year and three months have been so, so rough.

First her son is murdered, a year and three months ago, and now her dad commits suicide. Wow. Her dad was a disabled Vietnam vet and was extremely upset by his grandson's murder and the very frustrating legal process. "He couldn't take it anymore."

I spoke with Missy yesterday. She asked me to speak at her father's graveside service, which I am honored to do. In the course of the conversation, she asked me, remembering our study of Job, "How long did Job have to suffer?"

Pray for Missy. And pray for me as I try to communicate the good news of Jesus to one who is experiencing sorrow upon sorrow.