Putting Faces to Suicide

I am in a continued whirlwhind that doesn't want me to land. I am circling helplessly in a hurricane that won't release me. I'm learning that depression is unbeatable only manageable. How can that be? My one daughter is watching videos on you tube that puts faces to suicides. Their ages, and lovely faces pop up one after another like bubbles in a bathtub. Oh, how sad, how consuming. She does this as a ritual now, at least four films a day. She is in a dark place now. Awareness is good, helping people is honorable, but to daily think on these things is maddening.

It is cold outside, and snowed in Vancouver. How strange that our weather is this cold. Many Christmases are not white here. Tiger the cat is still in her box with lambswool, and she is taken indoors to my tenants quarters at night. I spread some seeds for the birds. The crows are clever, and dip the bun in water before eating it, in order to soften the bite. Nature is doing what it was created to do.

I am annoyed by one friend who keeps telling me how sick she is and how alone she feels. We have talked and prayed on the phone for 25 plus years, and her complaining is not doing me a favour right now. Her daughter stopped calling her mom because apparently, I talked about the end times while visiting her mom in the hospital. The daughter does not want to hear about the so called end of the world. My friend is convinced that her daughter will go to heaven, and I cannot be so presumptuous that my family members will all be saved. Though I believe that the Father answers prayers, I believe He also honors a persons free will. He wants all people to be saved, but "many are called, but few are chosen" is also a verse we find in the bible.
There are so many trials in ones life, and most of the persecution comes from your own family, if you are really tight with God. This lady who I'm writing about, has always had a curiosity about what is taught about eschatology/end time prophecy and I thought I'd bring her up to date in her boring, room of recovery.

I also was just sharing with a friend the other day, how sometimes, seniors get so envious of even a visitor in their care homes, that it creates such a ruffle, quiet often ending friendships. Once I took my four daughters with a stroller to a seniors apartment. We visited a gentleman and everyone else was just so curious in the hallway, and you could see that they resented my visit. Sadly, many people for lack of visitors become paranoid, and fearful of outsiders. So I stopped going after my second visit.

I have some good news to share with my readers in my next blog. It seems that truly sorrow walks hand in hand with joy. I am too spent to keep writing now, and must go to bed.