Two days after Christmas of 2020, I received a text from my stepdaughter advising me again that she couldn't take it anymore and was going to end it. It had become almost a ritual during the past couple of months when she was drunk and seeking love and affection. I had no reason to believe she was serious, and during our three hour chat, I became more and more confident she had grabbed on to a different thought pattern. I certainly was undeserving of her call and praise because I treated her badly in her early teenage years. But she insisted I was the only dad she had ever acknowledged or loved. She even apologized for being a bad teenager. I was a heroin addict, miserable, and projecting my sorry disposition onto those I supposedly loved. So, we kind of made peace with the thought that we both had problems and moved on. We spoke of so many painful experiences and the aftermath which left her without a father figure and me in prison. The next morning I received a text from my son telling me she had killed herself. Her daughter had found her around midnight unresponsive. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I can't really describe the pain nor can I identify whether it was for me or for all she'd endured in life driving her to that point. I do know that it was God's love that kept me focused in one of my greatest storms. The last two deaths of loved ones led to an eventual relapse, followed by years of misery and ended with a prison term. I spent the next two days, realizing my fragile situation and vulnerability, by praying and reaching out to my brothers and sisters in Christ. This was perhaps the first time I found it natural to seek help. His grace certainly proved sufficient. The response was overwhelming as I talked to so many from all across the country. But, the pain was still with me. I was also faced with questions like, "suppose I had said something different to her?" or "why did she reach out to me in her darkest hour when she was surrounded by family?". On New Years Eve day, I was determined that I wasn't going to carry the pain into the new year. I prayed and argued with God and thanked Him for sustaining me and protecting me. I made what I eventually came to believe was a foolish move. I ventured outside and went shopping. In my addictive years, I always wanted others to feel my pain, or worse, and did my best to accomplish that end. But, in contrast I just randomly began complimenting strangers with the hope of bringing smiles. I wanted everyone to feel better than I did. That evening, at about 7 PM, I was running out of time. I asked God, "Why did you tell me to seek out love and joy in all situations?" I yelled, "f can't find it here! Then, it wasn't a verbal thing, but something came into my head and said , "What have you been spreading today?" I was looking for a wave of relief to come crashing over me; for God's love and mercy to penetrate my pain. I was actually blown away by this. In a time of great need, He assured me He loved me and that His joy was already mine. So the lesson learned is - Look inside yourself for God's treasures. That is where He buries them.
by Joe Walling
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