'Round Robin

II Corinthians 1:9-10 -- "Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God . . . and He will deliver us. On Him we have set our hope that He will continue to deliver us."

 

I could not help but bust a gut. Seriously. I think it was actually the first time I really, really laughed since packing up my whole life into my little red Pontiac Sunbird - to slowly close the distance between Murphreesboro and Dixon Tennessee. I left behind what was supposed to be till death do us part and anxiously, nervously, darkly - stepped into the role of a divorced single mother.  The miles that slipped in line behind me were devastating, sad miles and the carcass of my very brief marriage loomed in the rear-view mirror. 

Even while I could still feel the shadows of marital failure pressing in around me, there I was, three months later, enjoying Mrs. Doubtfire on the tiny screen of my old bedroom at Mom and Dad's - laughing so hard the tears ran down my face and it was a struggle to keep from wetting my pants.

There just isn't any laughter like a Robin Williams laughter.

Mrs. Doubtfire resonated with me on so many levels and I sympathized with the freshly single father in that film. . . . and I LAUGHED. Could it be that there might be found some tiny trace of humor in my own situation? At least I could envision the light at the end of the tunnel as Robin pulled us into the fridge with him and planted his face into a meringue pie.

For me, there was some soothing - even perhaps a little healing - in the works of Robin Williams. In the past few days, I find myself wondering if he knew just how many lives he'd touched. Was he aware of the impact he'd had? Did he know that there were elements of hope tightly woven into each comedic performance? Did he know that in the middle of his own personal darkness, he brought light to so many people?

Did he know there is hope?

While the media circus makes wide circles around Robin Williams and the details of his death are made public, I find that I harbor a deep ache for him and the private pain he felt he had to conquer on his own. I have been thinking of Paul's words in II Corinthians.

It surprised me to think about Paul being suicidal the first time I read verses 8-10 in II Corinthians 1. At least, that's what I see when I read these verses. I see that Paul felt so defeated that he seemed to wonder if there was any value in staying alive. We see him reach out, almost in panicked desperation, for the light and hope in Jesus Christ. In verse 8 Paul says very plainly that he "despaired even of life."

And then he tells his friends in Corinth that he understands this darkness happens that we may learn to fully rely on God. Paul then claims victory by standing firm in his absolute certainty that "He [God] will deliver us."

Yes, God WILL deliver us from our darkness, from our anger, from our heart-ache - from our depression. He always, always, always will.

These words may sound easy to say and difficult to practice. But I know the darkness of which I speak. I can share these words - these verses - with you in the utmost of confidence, not only because I was raised to memorize God's Word and know where to turn when things get chaotic - but because I have fought these demons, myself. I have personally struggled with chronic chemical depression my entire life. And as we sadly say good-bye to a well-loved actor, I want to express this:

Please, please, PLEASE, do not wait until it's so dark you can't find your way to a flashlight. Cling to the hope we have in Jesus Christ. CLING! And when the lights start to go out - when the shadows start to creep in to sap the daylight out of your hope - pick up the phone and tell someone who loves you that your own batteries are failing and you need to borrow a few for a while - so that your flashlight stays brightly lit. Please don't stubbornly try to will life into your dying light by yourself. A recharge - emergency back-up generators - are just a phone call away. Even if you detect a small flicker in the bright around you, go ahead and call. Don't wait until you no longer have the will or the desire to pick up the phone. By then, your fading strength might not be enough to hold onto God's' hope on your own. Get a friend to help hold your arms up and reinforce your grasp.  Jesus will not let go of you. Do not allow yourself to let go of him.

On Him we have set our hope that He will continue to deliver us. And He will deliver us.