You never know when things are going to set off a defining moment in your life. They just sneak up on you, or upon you. It’s like a building up of little moments, then out of the blue (or the grey); everything compiles to break open on you. Sometimes it creates tears, joy, agony, or all three.
I remember when I met Hope. Recently I had met two other people: one named “Faith,” and one named “Charity.” Doing the scriptural math, I realized that I was one person away from meeting a triad of faith, hope and love. So my attention was grabbed when we were on the Apache Reservation one summer afternoon, and a young, beautiful teenage apache girl came to where the group was and introduced herself to me as Hope. Yes! I found Hope! The puzzle was complete. As I got to know Hope I enjoyed seeing a joy in her, happiness, and a transparency. Life can be really hard on the Rez, and Hope was pretty honest about her trials…and while I don’t know the depth of those trials, I could tell when she was having a hard day. She was a part of a group of girls that would call me “Papa Joel” or “Grandpa Joel” (I preferred “Papa Joel”). Hope was one of those that when she was in a good mood could automatically cheer you up, just with a smile. She was connected with a church youth group, went to conferences with us, and seemed that even in the storminess of life, was making some good decisions.
It was late February when I got a call from my friend Ron. I was traveling the nation helping churches, speaking at different ministries, and doing concerts when I was in East TN eating dinner with a group after a 30 Hour Famine. My phone rang and Ron spoke with a passive tone. Going to a quieter place outside, he let me know through broken pauses in his voice that Hope had committed suicide. In shock, my mind just had a hard time taking it in. After I was off the phone with Ron, I just wept outside, and sporadically continued to weep. It hurt badly.
One person I talked to around the time of the incident told me in so many words that I needed to “get over it” and “move on.” That person was apparently ignorant of the gravity, they tried to relate but to no avail. I learned in that time that the weight of times such as those is not something that you “get over.” It’s something that changes you. For better or for worse, you are somebody different afterward. Hope changed my life. Happy on the outside can sometimes mean dying on the inside. There are Hopes all around us. Life is short. Life is valuable.