No Child Left Behind….

I was so sad to hear about the suicide of another person yesterday. Russell Armstrong, a Hollywood celebrity. Yet there are so many others, which receive little or no attention.

My eyes  immediately drawn,  to the sweet, little girl who seemed to be gazing out of the television at me. Her eyes, so full of life and promise. Her daddy and mommy at her side. A total secure package.  Oh, the pain that is in store for her. I could only think. Her life will probably be full of more pain than she can imagine, or even begin to understand. She will probably not make the connection to this, single violent act.

Without a constant attention to her spirit, she will probably take the blame in some way. Feelings of worthlessness and low self-esteem, which attach themselves to children of suicide. I can’t even imagine, if there have been any studies, in this area. Yet, I’m quite sure, that I am not the only one who has had to struggle most of my life as a result.

Picture after picture, I have in my mind, of these children. Yes, I have gone to many funerals, of friends, who have died in this way. I always look at their children. The pain in their faces. I can see it, when others cannot. They think they are hiding, but the stoic looks, only make it more convincing. The act is only holding up long enough until the cracks begin to show.

I have a picture of my friend’s son. There he was, wearing his father’s baseball cap. Long hair. He looked just like his father. My friend had shot himself. Now, we are all together at the wake.  All the adults, moving around his son, like shadows. I know how he felt. Invisible. The  thoughts in his head as he heard people comment, “Oh, he looks just like his father!” “Well, that’s great. My dad left, and all I got was a baseball cap!” Yes, I’m sure, he has grief, but he has a lot of anger. I’m sure he wishes people would stop comparing him to his father, right now. He’s angry that his father has abandoned him. He’s thinking, “If I had a son, I sure wouldnt’ do to him, what my father did to me!”

And it isn’t just someone who has committed the act. I believe just being in a home long enough, with the threats of a suicidal person, is a powerful tool, in the destruction of a child’s psyche.

My mother reminded me of something as we were discussing this. “Yes, remember when I had to call the police when your father and I were together, because he had a noose, he made with a cord, in the basement. He said he was going to kill himself?” “Yes, I do remember that.” I said. Yet, I must have been only about 5 years old.

I also remembered an argument they were having, and my father included me. “Oh, don’t be so stupid,” my mother said. “Suicide means to kill yourself!” “No, it doesn’t, does it?” Then he looked at me to give an answer. Of course he was completely drunk, as he usually was.

She said, “Remember when he locked me out of the house and he wouldn’t allow you kids to let me in?” “Yes, I remember that as well,” I said. These are vivid memories, I have. If you think your children don’t recall events, and they aren’t watching, you are wrong. The see and feel much more than you can imagine. To watch at the door, and cry, as my father locked my mother out of my house. He screamed at us, to leave her out on the porch, or we would be beaten. Yet, I was the oldest, and I’m not sure how much my siblings remember, of these events.

Their fighting escalated until they eventually split. That’s why, I knew his suicidal tendencies, had never really left him. He had just taken them to someone else’s home. He made sure to share the burden with me though.

And now, I think, what a devastation this is to our society. To do this to our children. What about “No Child Left Behind” How about these children? Does anyone ever try to deal with this great epidemic? We have therapy for the rest of our lives, to deal with the craziness, we have inherited. I’ve always said it; people go to therapists to learn how to cope with the crazy people, who refuse to go!

Then I started to realize, after reading a blog; http://father2daughter.com/2011/08/15/ Yes, I believe the lack of my father’s influence in my life has been a pivotal role in choices I’ve made. But more importantly, I believe the short amount of time he did spend in my life was so critical to my development, that either for  in a positive or a negative way, his behaviors, shaped my life.

My father and mother divorced, when I was only five, but the rest of my life, I can look back until he left, and see, that I did, indeed, choose men like him. I did seek approval and would swing from one extreme to another in my life. I had a wan ed  love and remained in relationships, even while being abused. How did I know what love was? I had only seen it between my mother and father. And that is what I witnessed.

I would become cold and detached. Without a desire to allow anyone too close, for fear of rejection. At times, using men, as though they could be discarded. This was an easy way out. No one could hurt me.  At one moment, the obedient child, and the next, full of rebellion. Testing everyone’s limits. How much can you take? What will it take to drive you out of my life? Then, when it finally happens, that’s all the proof that I need. You’re just like my father. You didn’t really love me, anyway.

I always thought I would never let anyone treat me the way my father treated my mother. But in one form or another….I did. When I look back and see that my ex-husband also, threatened suicide many times, and I was heartbroken to see my daughter’s fear in her eyes. I was sad to think, I allowed this. He was so convinced that I gave him his identity, that he would use this against me. When we had been  married, he was outside of our marriage, and when I wanted out, he couldn’t be more in. He would manipulate me, with threats of suicide,  in the same way that my father did to my mother. But then, why wouldn’t he? I picked him for this reason, didn’t I?

Yes, I am starting to realize, that unless this pattern is  broken somewhere and we see the damage left behind, by this selfish act, we will continue to hurt our children. And they will hurt their’s. We will pass this  down, one generation to another.

I have heard those lies spoken in my head. That you cannot break free. You are your parents. But I know this isn’t true. Jesus Christ has told me, I am a new creation. He’s shown me that the past can be changed. “recreated, if you will.” I am not a product of my past. I do not have to be held hostage to this curse.

I feel such compassion for these children and adults, who have lost their parents to such an act. It is something we cannot comprehend. On one hand, we feel rage at their selfishness, and on the other, we have such grief at the tremendous despair, they must have felt. But I think the one feeling, all of us deal with, which is the most difficult , is guilt. Oh, I know. It is not ours to carry. Yet, whether as an adult, or as a child, we all feel, if there was just  something we could have done or said, we could have prevented this. Or perhaps it was something we did. It doesn’t matter. We will find a way to carry this load.

Th is where the Lord came in to my life to remind me it is His burden. If I would only let Him carry this. He is the only one who can. Yes, I find myself taking it back, many times, only to have the Lord speak to me through some kind soul.  I have found that in my deepest grief, when I cry out to the Father, He reminds me over and over again, He is the Father to the fatherless.

It is not to say both mother and daughter are not equally important, but the Lord has shown me that He placed the Father as the head of the household, to be an example. And we have all been broken because of the absence of his presence.

No matter the reason, divorce or death; every child needs a Father’s love. It is imperative for healthy development. And it is the gift we can keep on giving.

I called my ex-husband and told him, that no matter what has happened, our children love him unconditionally. I reminded him that I have been so hurt my whole life, as a result of the loss of my own father. And he can change things for his children. He still has time to change the course of events. He thanked me and I believe he understands. Our mistakes, are not their mistakes. To them, we are their parents, and they love us in spite of ourselves.

Now I am praying that I can use my pain and touch the lives of so many others. I know His promises. He has told me that “by His stripes I AM healed.”  It is not ‘past tense.’ He is a “very present help in our time of trouble.”  So I refuse to allow the darkness to surround me. I am fighting against it. I have the sword of truth, and I will strike down every lie.

Just today the two repair men came by. Well, there really two angels, disguised as repairmen. They reminded me that I am a daughter of the King of all Kings, and I cannot entertain the lies of the enemy. They said, “don’t let him steal your joy and every good thing that the Lord has planned for you.”

Once again, the Lord sends His messengers, to lift me up. I realized, that although my earthly father is gone, my heavenly Father’s hand is always holding me.

“And in the end, I will send  the prophet Elijah, before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.” Malachi 4:5