definition:
Survivor, survivor's, or survivors guilt or syndrome is a mental
condition that occurs when a person perceives themselves to have done wrong by
surviving a traumatic event when others did not.
As
some of you will know, my family and I made a quick trip to colorado last week
to attend the memorial of Wifey's 1st cousin, Paul (son of our very dear Aunt
and Uncle) who tragically died from a drug overdose last week at age 31.
Paul, in so many ways, was the guy everybody would want to be, friendly and
outgoing, a stranger to no one, and a joy to be around. While I haven't spent
much time around him in the last several years, I understood that he had some
issues with addictions that he just couldn't seem to shake, despite some
serious efforts on his part. Again, while I can't say that I knew him
well and knew that he was saved, I feel that I know his parents well enough to
be able to take their word for it that if they believed he was, then I do too;
not that ultimately it makes one lick of difference what I believe, anyway.
It is especially striking to me as I always saw so many similarities between
Paul and myself, besides the obvious similarities in doing drugs and being in
rebellion towards God.
We
went, and mostly said nothing to our dear Aunt and Uncle, tried to stay out of
their way and just show them that we loved them. It wasn't hard to say nothing;
it felt like there was nothing to say, besides you don't much feel like
chatting after just 3 hours of sleep and an eight hour drive. It was so
heart breaking to be there with them in their grief, though they bore it like
heroes. Uncle even gave the eulogy, and the gospel was so well presented; I
really felt that the service honored both God and Paul well.
I'm not sure how to go about explaining this, since it's so muddy in my own brain; but I do have some amount of guilt associated with Paul's death. I always just assumed that "he would get his act together," much as I did finally, well into adulthood, when I finally found God to be an irresistible force, and my own will broken. In retrospect, it seems so easy, so simple, I just made the decisions, then executed them from there. First "a", then "b", etc. I've often confessed to people that I have little compassion for people in similar situations. As I learned more and more of Paul's situation, I began feeling depressed; evil seems such a force, and so powerful. I have been in a funk all weekend, so overwhelmed by all the emotions of others and my own, that I felt completely spent, and didn't want to go to the remembrance meeting this morning; yet so glad that I did. I struggled the whole meeting, wanting to say something, yet not really having anything to say, but the singing this morning was particularly sweet to me, probably because I wasn't participating. I just sat back and listened to half a hundred or so saints washing the filth from my soul with pure voices lifting praises and thanksgiving to our lord.
I write this sitting in the sun shine, on an ipad, from the seat of a four wheeler, watching my four perfectly healthy, beautiful children playing and screaming and splashing in my own pond, on my own place with just enough breeze to keep me from being too warm, lest I be uncomfortable. I don't know about everybody else, but this seems as close to paradise on this side of heaven as it is likely to get. Here I sit, fulfilled and content with a belly full of home raised ham I ate for Sunday lunch, while Paul lies still in refrigeration because his estranged wife literally can't find her way out of Pennsylvania to Colorado in order to sign the paperwork to finish his cremation. Does this seem fair? Does this seem like justice? Is this because of some merit of my own? Some great decision making process that Paul missed out on? I don't think so... But I'm reluctant to attribute it all to God; it makes him seem so capricious, so fickle, as if there is some great lottery that we are all a part of, whether we like it or not, when we know from his word that he desires all to be saved, and those of us that are to be holy. It wasn't that one of us didn't have great parents; we both did. We were both taught the great truths from our cradles. Why is it that I don't now ever struggle with addictions to illegal drugs, even after I threw my whole being into them? Why do I seemingly suffer little if any adverse effects in my relationship with my wife despite living an impure life, not to mention one that was at that time of my life centered around pornography? Can you see why I am interested in this? Why this bothers me? Even if not for my own sake, but for the sake of me as a parent?
I
find, however, that I am not alone in my affliction, which helps. I texted my
good friend, who currently lives in the obscenely far off state of Texas two
words : "survivor's guilt" and about a six word description of
what happened to Paul, and that was the extent of the conversation; rather one
sided. Two days later I get a long email complete with verses that help
tremendously. More than anything, I find it comforting and amusing that with
just a short cryptic message that he was able to identify and relate to in some
real way, my guilt for having lived through and even thrive where others
haven't. I do believe that Paul's death was the most merciful of acts from the
father. I just give him praise that he doesn't give justice to all such as me.
Here
is one verse that was meaningful to me:
1 Timothy 1:8-17
12 I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who
has strengthened me, because He considered me faithful, putting me into
service, 13 even though I was formerly a blasphemer and a persecutor and a
violent aggressor. Yet I was shown mercy because I acted ignorantly in unbelief;
14 and the grace of our Lord was more than abundant, with the faith and love
which are found in Christ Jesus. 15 It is a trustworthy statement, deserving
full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, among
whom I am foremost of all. 16 Yet for this reason I found mercy, so that in me
as the foremost, Jesus Christ might demonstrate His perfect patience as an
example for those [l]who would believe in Him for eternal life. 17 Now to the
King [m]eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory
[n]forever and ever. Amen.
And also, for those of you who literally have nothing better to do than follow my links around the internet, here is a new take on an old song that my friend and I are in agreement that is meaningful to both of us:
http://joshgarrels.bandcamp.com/track/farther-along
This link will take to the artist's website where you can listen for free, read the lyrics, and download the album for free if you desire.
2 comments:
Thanks for sharing, Dan. When I think about Paul, I ask "why not me?" a lot too--because we grew up in the same way, and I don't think it was any virtue in me that kept me from messing up my life. Whatever the case, I don't really have an answer either, but I like the answer in the song. I think it's maybe the best response--to remember that we don't have to understand--only trust what God has shown us of himself.
Thanks for sharing Dan....I like these posts just as much as the funny ones. Though I can't really identify with the survivor's guilt, I can identify with the fact that you are struggling your way through it. Being human opens us up to lots of these types of situations and the answers aren't always clear.
I too liked the song at the end, gave me goose bumps in light of your post.
I'm also impressed that you could write all that on an ipad.
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