Motherhood began tomorrow.
Hopes and dreams swaddle in my soul, as I
repeat the ritual of laying you to rest. and cradle new
life as it shocks my heart from the grave
mistake you made.
(Every birthday is a chance to recommit to living motherhood wide open.)
My heart cries out for you if you are currently cutting. I understand the deep heartache, hatred, and pain that goes into this cycle. It took an act of God to stop mine, and I pray the same for you. Your life is so valuable to Him and to me.
This is how God’s love was revealed among us: God sent His one and only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. --1 John 4:9 BSB
Therefore, every second, even the abuse and hardest moments you experience matter to him. He died for them. Keep turning your page to find out what happens next. Live. Reach out and allow others to reach in. They won’t do it perfectly, but share your heart because you need to, and they too need to know they are not alone. We are created to connect with others. We need each other. I am encouraged by each breath you choose to take. And I thank God for each breath I take.
(Poetry response to a person contemplating suicide.)
When I can’t take anymore and decide to give up …
Hope seeped into my blood
A resurrecting transfusion of truth
Captivating the germ of thought
like a head-turning shape,
A glimpse of His hands, cut
for me. Stopped my cutting.
My self-destructing. God wore my hate,
my shame, like I’m worth
saving. I couldn’t fathom a fearless
night, but when Jesus held my broken
soul, I felt whole.
What is this life?
Life. Nothing more,
nothing less–PRECIOUS
Why am I here?
To encourage, to speak life,
testify to what I’ve seen and heard. I no longer
fear when I can’t take it anymore, I’ve given up
and decided to live, no matter what hell hurls at me.
Turning the Page on Suicide-Taking Deeper Breaths https://www.chirpapp.com/audiopost/egx5zrnKvM
Welcome to Turning the Page on Suicide. I apologize for the long absence. This evening I received a gentle reminder to post, even if I manage just a word or two.
In the first days of grieving my son’s suicide I posted every day, without fail. It may have been a few sentences, a poem or a thought, but there was something about the daily discipline of posting while experiencing despair. It was like taking a clean breath in the middle of thick stale air.
Tonight, it took swim lessons to remind me to breathe again. I am learning the different strokes in swimming because I am tired of panicking. As someone who almost drowned as a ten-year-old, I value air, but I have never learned how to relax when desperate. My instructor worked with me on not letting a bad breath ruin the next one. Recovery takes practice, consistency and retraining muscles to value the oxygen given. Relaxing into each moment stretches out and strengthens the power in each breath. I stop fighting and start trusting the water.
Sorrow sneaks up on us and chokes our air with business, troubles, and even well-intentioned service. Maintain your breath. I know no other way but to spend time with Jesus, study his word, spend time in creation, connect with others and apply what I am learning. Writing and now swimming teaches me to breathe deeply, even if all I get in a day are a few deep cleansing breaths.
Challenge: What helps you to breathe? Drawing, hiking, sewing, reading. Pick an activity or explore something new and focus on taking deeper breaths of the experience. What do your senses tell you in the moment? Is it easier to connect with others when you breathe life more slowly and intentionally?
Your story is worth writing! I breathe, turn the page and find out what happens next.
When the cup we pass around
the table
grows cold with doubt’s tears
and our empty souls
keep feasting on the moldy bread of fear–you come.
Pouring new sweet wine, forever bubbling generously
over the sides of our expectations.
and serve fresh bread from the banquet table of your papa, the king.
Allow new breath, though motherhood
aches, and mind screams in the tight squeeze
of despair. Each face, traced anew, is valued
from womb to grave. Every sorrow felt,
a precious jewel, shaped and hardened by the
pressure of both good and bad
experience in my heart. My children,
shimmer in the palm
of a God who loves.
The seasick panic of blistered seasoned
fishers of men, uncontrolled swells
smashing faith against wake
of our doubts
and you
sleep
you don’t
care for us
our fear swamping confidence
in your claim to be
I AM is rocked to asleep
By the destruction overwhelming us
Awaken to our insecurity
“Silence! Be still.”
Secure control.
Peace.
Turning the Page on Suicide—Is God Good in My Suffering? https://www.chirpapp.com/post/a7xErmPKve
Taken for granted, the straight A’s
Riddled with stress. Popularity
Ostracized by the lack of interest. Neither in nor out. Depression always
Underestimated by the well meaning church choir. “Isn’t he such a nice
Boy?” they sang. “Doesn’t he show such
Leadership potential?” Until you teetered on the
Edge of the unknown and revealed your spirit was already
Dead.
Look around you, is someone struggling in secret? Notice the needs of others and be a light for someone battling despair.
“And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Romans 10:15)
Dear Page Turner,
My feet have good news. Faithfully, not perfectly, I have tried to grieve with hope and walk in obedience to God’s direction. After four years of grieving with hope, I am almost done with my second book, a devotional to help anyone who has just experienced a loss to suicide.
I have also joined The Dented Fender writing team, and am developing my speaking chops so that I can share hope more effectively. I want to be fully equipped, not lacking anything. God’s love is shining into the darkness of despair, and I love getting to be a part. So many amazing things are happening, way beyond what I thought myself capable of, but with God nothing is impossible.
Four and 1/2 years ago it was painful to turn 1 page on Jonathan’s death. I have now turned over the 2007 pages. Each page has been important, even the ones I could barely turn. My initial hope, that others would be encouraged to choose life is coming to fruition. I refuse to bow to the spirit of despair. Each page, some intensely painful, have produced new joys, new discoveries, and encouragement. I look forward to sharing with you what God is accomplishing, even when we don’t understand the fullness of his purpose.
As the work on my second book is nearing the finish line you inspire me to finish strong. Writing this book has made me look back over all that God has accomplished in four years of Turning the Page on Suicide, I am so thankful.
I learn from each of you. Thank you for wrestling with despair and not letting the darkness have the final say! Thank you for choosing writing as your outlet to share hope. Thank you for encouraging others with poetry, stories, photography and scripture. Thank you for commenting and blessing one another with courage for each individual journey.
The mental health community is made up of spectacular and uniquely gifted individuals. Don’t ever underestimate the value of your words, your courage to breathe life into others, in spite of your own physical and emotional pain. If you are just getting started on turning your page on suicide, may 1 page become 2 until you look back and find a lifetime of spreading the good news, death does not have the final say. Life is worth living.
Sincerely,
Karisa Moore
Poetry Collection: Broken Butterflies
Stars lit my darkening soul.
A map of promise affixed over a sea of doubt.
God’s steady compass, commissioned above the rotating
gravity of churning experience.
Captaining my broken ship to the dock of possibility.
Morning will dawn and
I will spy the security of land.
If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at https://988lifeline.org/