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All posts for the month September, 2013

Rick Warren on his late son: “Matthew was not afraid to die…he was afraid of pain”

Published September 17, 2013 by meganbiddle

Rick Warren’s response to his son’s question, why can’t I just die is painful. We lose too many people to suicide every year. Some call it selfish. Some see it as escape from pain. It makes me hurt deep within. I weep for the parents that bury their children. Having spent time as a Chaplain Intern, I saw the effect first hand. It might provide a way out for the victim of suicide, but it destroys those left behind. There are more questions than answers, and I don’t pretend to have any of them. But if this describes you or someone you love, please get help. It is never too late to ask for help. It’s not about judging someone or trying to “fix” someone, it’s about meeting them where they are, and loving them, no matter what.

Piers Morgan

Less than six months ago, well-known American evangelical Christian pastor Rick Warren lost his son to a self-inflicted gunshot wound, an emotional and heartbreaking end to a life defined by battles with mental health.

Joined by his wife Kay, this evening Warren joins “Piers Morgan Live” for the couple’s first media appearance since Matthew’s passing, describing in great detail the demons their son battled:

“Matthew was not afraid to die. He was afraid of pain. I remember 10 years ago, when he was 17, he came to me sobbing,” reveals Warren, offering an absolutely heart-wrenching story about his late son. “He said, ‘daddy,’ he said, ‘it’s really clear, I’m not going to get any better. You know, we’ve gone to the best doctors, the best hospitals, the best treatment therapists. Everything … prayer, everything you could imagine … good support.’ And he says, ‘it’s real clear I’m not going…

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A Crazy Little Thing Called CPE…

Published September 11, 2013 by meganbiddle

“Only Christ could have brought us all together, in this place, doing such absurd but necessary things.”–Kathleen Norris

If one were to write an essay about what one did over their summer vacation, anyone who read mine would ask for a do-over.  For eleven weeks I wondered semi-purposefully around St. Vincent Hospital in Indianapolis, as a Chaplain Intern.  This was the last requirement for my master’s degree.  That’s right, me, a master’s degree.  The term “Intern” is used to mean unpaid, as well as clueless.  So six strangers set out on an adventure to discover who we really are, who God wants us to be, and how we respond to tragedy and help others deal with it.

 CPE, Clinical Pastoral Education, might be genius, but if you tell my supervisor, Sister Barbara, I said that I will deny, deny, deny.  First of all, Chaplains don’t go around trying to save people’s souls or waving Bibles at people.  I saw Bibles in the hospital while I was there, but they were not carried by Chaplains.  Chaplains have very difficult jobs, and are some of the strongest people I have ever met in my life.  Consider that they are meeting people at some of the most difficult moments of their lives.  We (they) are not there to take the place of your pastor or shove Jesus down your throat.  We are there to meet you where you are, not to judge.  I found that to be the most beneficial thing I could ever do.  Somewhere during the process of 400 hours in the hospital, you find yourself changing.  I had stood at the side of the bed with enough people as they had taken their last breath, watched family members agonize over what course of treatment to take with their loved one, that I figured out what was important.  For me; 

1. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind

2. Live until you die

Indeed, it is absurd that one should ever hear the following statement from a child, “I don’t want to die.”  What is more absurd, is that the statement requires a response, not because it is a fear, but because it is reality.  It is absurd that parents should have to bury their children, because that is not the natural order of life, now is it?  So often I heard “It just happened so fast.” or “If we just would have had more time.”  No one ever say, they should have worked more hours at the office.  I heard their regrets.

Do you have regrets?  Well, you aren’t dead yet; so, live.  Live until you die.  Come together with fantastic people like I did and do absurd things.  Grow.  Learn.  Challenge yourself.  Do those things that are hard, and sometimes hurt like hell.   Live until you die and hopefully you won’t be disappointed at the end, I know I won’t be.