God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him..png
The sharp trill of the phone unsettled the still of the evening as I fumbled to retrieve the noisy offender. Midnight calls are never good news.
An unfamiliar voice responded to my mumbled “hello”.  Is this Tammy Kennington? I’m with the suicide hotline and I have your son on the phone. He reached out to us because he’s thinking about taking his life.”

[bbctt tweet="I'm with the suicide hotline and I have your son on the phone.#mentalhealthawareness#fightstigma#hoperestored"]

Suddenly alert, my heart beat erratically as I tried not to imagine the worst. I’d fought my own demons of depression and anxiety, but hoped and prayed my own children would be exempt.
A pain like I’d never experienced pierced my heart at the desperation in my son’s voice. Mom, I can’t take this anymore. The fear is too much. Why won’t God take this from me?

[bbctt tweet="I recalled the moments he'd clung to me on the beach, little arms and legs twined around my body as if I were the safe harbor in the midst of a storm.#mentalhealthawarenessmont#fightstigma#hoperestored"]

Images of the baby he’d been slipped through my mind as quickly as his childhood; I pictured the sweet infant sleeping soundly in my arms, his plump hands unfurled in contented slumber. I thought of the little boy with a shock of white-gold hair gleaming in the summer sun as he directed miniature cars and trucks through imagined detours and dangers. I recalled the moments he’d clung to me on the beach, little arms and legs twined around my body as if I were the safe harbor in the midst of a storm.
This time, though, I couldn’t rock the fears away or protect my son with merely a watchful eye. I couldn’t stave off the powerful ocean of emotions threatening to overpower him.
All I could do was to love my boy. Listen. Pray. And, how I prayed!
A few days later, our son returned home from a respite in the hospital. I hovered and fretted like a hypervigilant first-time mother; nothing escaped my notice. The nights were the most frightening. Life was tenuous and my husband and I knew our son stood on the precipice.
Now, a few years later, our son is more stable. While he still isn’t the laughing, affable child we once knew, he is gentle and merciful toward others–especially those who are hurting emotionally.

[bbctt tweet="I continue to pray God will remove this thorn from my boy's flesh, but if He doesn't I still trust God know the plans He has for this young man.#mentalhealthawarenessmonth#fightstigma#hoperestored"]

I continue to pray God will remove this thorn from my boy’s flesh, but if He doesn’t I still trust God knows the plans He has for this young man. Plans to give him a future and a hope.
If you or someone you know is on the edge of desperation, please know you are loved and seen. You are not alone. There is hope because of Him!
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May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Please share this post to help fight stigma and to promote love and compassion for others among God’s people and beyond. If you need prayer, please leave a comment.
Peace and grace,
Tammy
I often link up with the following: LMMLinkupPorch StoriesTea and Word Tuesday, Grace and Truth Blogger Voices NetworkTea and Word Tuesdays, Anchored Abode, Worth Beyond Rubies WednesdayLet’s Have CoffeeSoaring With HimPurposeful Faith, Encouraging Word WednesdaySitting Among FriendsImparting GraceDestination InspirationTune in ThursdayHeart EncouragementFaith and FriendsFaith on FireDance with Jesus   Anchored Abode