The Value of a Life
/
Yesterday I walked out front to trade our current, cheap wreath for this gorgeous one from my sister’s wedding, but then I remembered the nest. Our current wreath holds a perfect little birds’ nest, and the perfect birds’ nest cradles five little blue eggs.
Kara is the one who first noticed it, last week, on her way in. She said, “Isn’t it amazing that God made birds to make nests?” I said, “I don’t know how he thought to do that!” We marveled for a minute.
Kara isn’t here anymore. She took her own life yesterday. She was our beloved babysitter—funny, kind, and easy to talk to, and we love her so much.
She was just here on Friday. (I wish it was Friday.)
Time is too heavy to push back. No matter hard I push and how loud I scream, I can’t move the clock back to Friday night or back to yesterday morning, for all those days before today when she was still here, when I had no idea she was hurting so badly, when we marveled at the birds.
Here’s what was true then and is still true now: The little eggs are cradled so carefully. God cares for the birds, and we, too, are cradled carefully and cared for, even more than the birds. We are seen and loved and never alone.
As true as it is, our heads and hearts don’t always recognize truth at the same time. Somehow Kara could marvel at God’s creation of little eggs yet forget that she is a marvel, too, woven together and seen and loved by God.
Don’t you see, friend? This is why Jesus chose to come, and this is why Jesus chose to die, because we need him so badly. No matter how much pain we bring about, he chooses to cradle us carefully by extending the most precious gift: himself.
He never had to do it. He could have stayed in heaven, comfortable and ruling in all power. Instead he chose to crouch down, to wrap himself in humanity and all its limitations and pain.
Death takes more than we want to give (we miss you, Kara), and sometimes life does, too. It’s all too much. But nothing is too much for the God who stared death in the face and stepped out of the grave. He came to conquer death, and he came to redeem life.
Suicide brings up a million questions, and I don't know if anyone is sure what to do with them. For now, I am going to remember Kara, remember the gospel, and keep an eye on the little blue eggs. Every time I open the door, I can marvel, “Isn’t it amazing that God made birds to make nests?” Isn’t is amazing that God made beautiful girls like Kara? Isn’t it amazing that he did not have to come a die in our place but did it anyway? How did he think to do it?
Oh, Kara, we miss you! I am so sad that you are not here, and I wish I could push back the time. One day every tear will be wiped away, but today, we will cry.
Matthew 10:29-31 “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
If you are interested in reading more about death as it relates to the gospel, especially in context of suicide, you may find this piece about our precious friend Mary Cathryn helpful.
If you are contemplating suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. All the hairs on your head are numbered. You are so very valuable.
