By Chaplain Joy Le Page Smith, MA

Phil, 14 was just a kid. He was quiet, polite and a good student. No one could know what was ahead or how he would change lives—until the day the call came. “Hello, Joy. Have you heard about Janet?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It is all over the news. Your friend Janet was murdered. Her kid killed her.”

I screamed and dropped the phone. As weeks and months came and went, grief took my days. A gnawing/griping depression settled in and required professional help before I could manage a semblance of normality.

Phil’s mother and I had been close friends for ten years. She was raising Phil alone, as his father deserted the two of them soon after Phil’s birth. This little boy grew up among us and was loved like one of the family. I remember hearing him pray at our Thanksgiving table. Janet had asked if Gary and I would raise Phil if she were to die. She had a dream that found her obsessing a bit with thinking she could not finish the job of raising her son.

That was not to be. Phil was sent to live out his teens at a closed adolescent treatment center. There, with the time, space and expertise available, he came to discover what was true about himself. Phil accepted responsibility for this violent crime. Locked gates forbid Phil’s freedom, but it was obvious how much more painful were the shackles of remorse, sadness and fear of himself. 

Our talks took place in four-way, phone conversations while a psychiatrist and a priest listened. It was intense—and difficult. Yet, his words brought a particle of understanding to a crime so hard to comprehend. Phil told me of how he grew to hate his mother, early in his teens. At first it was resentment over a decision she made that found him fuming. Next came small acts practiced to hurt his mother, like not listening to her, refusing to answer when she spoke. Then thoughts of how he could hurt her more. This grew into his desire to be rid of her.

Preceding the crime, books and music portraying bloody, abusive behavior produced a mental track through which Phil lost his way. Child that he was, he could not perceive the gate to evil he allowed his mind to open, which ultimately unleashed such extreme brutality.

Phil is not shifting the blame for what he did onto the media, or the games he gave himself to. He said, “I was the one who did it.” He is characterized by his therapist as “honest and sincere.”

As Phil and I talked, there was great pain. Yet, time and treatment brought change. He was grateful we could talk and seemed deeply touched with each offering of goodness about his mother that I could extend to him. He said, “Dreams of my mother at night bring both comfort and agony.”

Once Phil was released from the treatment center, he chose not to keep an appointment set for our meeting face to face.  Years later, I heard from a friend that Phil was able to build a healthy life in a different state. He married and had a family. This was helpful to my healing.

Words do not display the depths of this sorrow, or the gravity of the crime that many of us in our community felt. And, there is a principle at work here that applies to each one of us. Every action we take begins in the mind—starts with our thoughts. In Phil’s case, the mind’s fertile ground resulted in poison fruit for which he paid dearly, as did all of us who loved him and his mother.

The greatest of all facts is that Phil found God’s forgiveness. In the midst of this horrible thing, he found the foremost and best of all truths: God extends forgiveness to all who ask.

There are many kinds of sin. And God forgives them all when we “truly” repent and turn from them. It is difficult to admit it when we are on a wrong track. But with God’s help we can do hard things. Millions upon millions—even trillions of people throughout time have told their stories of how the Lord has instilled the power to break strongholds of many kinds, including anger, resentment, jealousy, pride and bitterness.

Scripture indicates there is only one unforgiveable sin, “ . . . whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it will not be forgiven him, either in this age or in the age to come,” (Matthew 12:31). If you think you have committed a sin that cannot be forgiven, https://healing-with-joy.com/have-i-commited-the-unforgiveable-sin/ for words which hold power to end that fear.

Decades have passed since the tragedy. It took time to reach the ability to tell it. Doing so comes from believing, for some, relating it will serve to heal. (The names of individuals have been changed.)

wwww.healinglifespain.com

It took this pandemic for us to get a grasp of what it means to see a full face. Clearly, we know half-a-face is not enough. We feel cheated in only seeing the eyes of the person coming toward us. When a person’s eyes search for our eyes we naturally look to the person’s mouth for the rest of the message he or she may be trying to send.

We are getting more used to living with the truth that a life-threatening disease is alive among us. Time has passed and a good share of us have stepped up to trusting the vaccines. We have more of a sense of safety, now, while being around others. Yet, for some of us there is a definite discomfort when a stranger moves in “to close for comfort.”

One day, when the COVID virus is faced down by the vaccine and herd immunity truly exists, we will gain an increased appreciation for life, and for one another—especially the enjoyment of seeing the full face of others.

Ideally, we will also value the fact that life is tenuous. Not one of us knows how long we will be alive. What we can know is that “there is a God ” and there is life after this experience on earth.

Meanwhile, the most healthy way to live is extended in Scripture, “ Rejoice always,  pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you,” (1^st Thessalonians 5:16-18). We can only do this through embracing the mystery that lies within life: we have no control over the fact our lives will end. And—we have no way of knowing the “when.” Some may get a medical diagnosis that says “time is short,” and old age also hands us the opportunity to “get ready to leave.” So, when Scripture tells us to “rejoice always” there is a secret in that: A built in reward of better health. A field of medicine, psychoneuroimmunology (PNI), holds research bearing this out. Studies in SPECT MRI have proven our brain makes significant changes when we pray. This indicates we were made to transcend. People who pray consistently know prayer greatly relieves the most difficult types of angst that life can bring.

God has taken care of our need for emotional help and healing. After talking with God in prayer, take some moments thinking (or journaling) about all there is for which to be thankful. Notice how you feel when you finish. Mostly, this lifts a person’s mind and emotions bringing reassurance, transcendence and empowerment to get past the hard stuff.  

Working our way through a heavy heart comes with the package of being a human who loves. Tears and talking about the despair of missing someone we formerly looked forward to seeing, hearing, touching is one of the hardest burdens we bear. Often remorse, anger and hurt bring questions that plague: “Why did this have to be!? What help is there for my loss?”

We can get depressed, particularly if we fail to feel our anguish and communicate it to loved ones who can listen. Counseling is sometimes a must. This was true for me when my close friend, many years ago, was murdered by her 14-year-old son . . . shock knocked my life apart for he was a good student, involved in sports and seemed oh-so-normal. And, then—my friend was gone! A deadly influence resulted in the tragedy of taking his mother’s life.

Time has lessened the pain, but I still hurt when this terrible memory returns, but, thankfully, I was given an opportunity to make a difference in his young life—once I could forgive him. I had to work through such a hideous thing, so unnatural and impossible to comprehend. What touches me today is knowing I will see my friend again in the eternal realms as she was a believer in our Lord Jesus. And, I will see her son again, as he chose to let Christ become master of his life after serving time in a closed treatment center.

The shortest verse in the Bible is “Jesus wept” as He came to terms with the death of His close friend, Lazarus. He, being God, raised his friend up out of death. Knowing our limits, we cannot do that very often. So we look to the Great Healer in the hour of our exceedingly painful losses. He said, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me. For I am gentle and lowly of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For, My yoke is easy and My burden is light,” (Matthew 11:28-30). It is the Light of Christ that will help us through our darkest moments.