Letting Go Of Lee

Our Sylvia Plath-like week is nearly over here at the McDowell house, but is ironically ending on my late brother’s birthday – so... Just one more day to explore the ism of grief. This one, however, is quite possibly even more difficult to process. Unlike Daddy’s passing, we had no time to prepare for the loss of my brother, who was only 43 at the time. The following is an excerpt of something I wrote two years ago as I was grieving both my father and my brother’s deaths. If you are brave enough to walk through the “valley of the shadow” for one more day, you are welcome to it.

Originally written July 12, 2008 -
It was 2 years ago tomorrow that Lee took his own life. I remember the anguish of that call, the unbelief that encircled me. How could this be? It was a call we had all expected, dreaded, but somehow hoped would never come.
When you receive such a call that anyone you know and love has taken their own life, it is so morose that your mind cannot accurately deal with it. I suppose the emotion was only heightened because we had just been in the trenches for weeks following Daddy’s heart attack. I assumed the “death” call I would receive, if any, would be about my dad, but it was not.

The last time I saw my brother, was in the ICU after my dad’s heart attack. I honestly was not sure how I felt about his arrival. You see my brother was loving, funny, charismatic, but also bipolar and struggled with addictions. When Lee was doing well, he had a servant's heart, a giving nature, and a wonderful sense of humor. When he was struggling, it was difficult to see those parts of him you knew were there, just hidden beneath the isms. Gratefully, when I saw him in the ICU he seemed happy. From all outward appearances he seemed to be trying to turn his life around, and we all hoped that perhaps this time, it might be permanent.Anyone who has dealt with the highs and lows of a loved one who struggles with these “isms” knows how much you want to believe that this time will be different – no matter how many times you have been on that emotional roller coaster. I wanted so much for Lee’s story to read like hundreds I have read about: “His story was so hopeless, but then miraculously the Lord intervened. Lee accepted Christ and is now in full-time ministry bringing others like him out of bondage.”
But that was never to be Lee’s story. Oh, the Lord intervened and met him in ways I will probably never know, but Lee’s story does not unfold like a fairy tale. It was only a few weeks after my brief time with him when my father was still hospitalized that Lee decided to end his fight. I did not learn until his funeral that in the months prior to his death, he had – as described by the minister – “run down the aisle” giving his life to Christ fully. But for reasons only known to him, on that terrible night, he could only hear the horrible voices that tormented and urged him to end his life.

There is a Shane and Shane song that says “Son, welcome home. The war is over.” And that song brilliantly describes my brother’s life and death. The wars that raged in him, the voices that screamed at him were all that he heard that night. I truly believe that my brother thought it would be better to be with Christ – now that he sensed he truly could be – than to continue fighting the war.Am I angry at him? Yes. Do I blame him? No. I understand the temptation. To trade in the trials of this world for a savior waiting for me is extraordinarily inviting, but it is not His plan. And He asks us to continue to “fight the good fight” no matter what, and so we do.

In this season of mourning the suicide of brother and the long death of my father, I have found myself asking the question (that all mourners do) –

“What is the point?”

Lord, what is the point of all this reaching the masses, making a difference – blah – blah – blah – if our heavenly home awaits and we would be better off there? (I am sure you sense the grief there) – And in these final days of my season of mourning I hear,
“I AM”
"I AM the point – I have promised to never leave you or forsake you. I have summoned you and called you by name. I AM the Great Healer, Redeemer, Savior. I AM – I AM the point of it all. Trust and obey the I AM of it all and you will someday see the point. Hold on and fight the good fight because the Great I AM is fighting for you."

It has been the blessing of my loss. The epitaph to the great season of burial. ___________________________________________________
August 20, 2010 - Today would have been my brother’s 48th birthday. And despite the tragic way we had to lose him, we are still left with images of him when the war within was not so great - when all that mattered was baseball and being a family.






WAGING WAR
by Shane Barnard

It haunts me so
This gloomy weight
That comes and goes
Without a trace
A thousand times my flesh embrace
A thousand more but if for grace

To see the Lord, the promise land
Wherein all sin's pearly gates look bland
And what was once a pearl, now sand
That blows away in light of Him

When battle lines become unclear
And the waging war is all I hear
Sustain me with Your voice
And the choice to walk in truth
And by the Spirit

That I might see this day
This waging war might go away
And be no more
That I might see His face
And hear Him say
Son, welcome home
The war is over