This Pastor Has Nothing to Say

Let me say this.  Mental health issues stink!  We (my husband and I) have been dealing with them all week.  It was bad enough when it was a stranger who showed up at the church because he really had no other place to go.  At least we could talk to him.  We could feed him.  We could connect him with all of the right people and places to get him at least some temporary help.  We could get his immediate needs met.  But then it turned into family.  It wasn’t exactly a surprise.  Everyone in the family, except the person affected, has known that this person has had mental issues for many years.  What was unexpected was how quickly the spiral came and how far it took them.  They called one day this week, and it was almost immediately obvious that they were in crisis.  But, this person lives several hundred miles away from us.  We couldn’t easily get to them to talk or feed or connect.  Then this person quit answering their phone.  Everyody was worried.  Nodody could find them.  It even got to the place where the police were involved with an ATL  (Attempt to Locate).  I am exhausted, and since I am the in-law, I wasn’t even on the front lines of the issue.  I can only imagine how my husband and the rest of the family are feeling.

Because our family member has had these mental health issues for a long time, many of the other family members have pretty much written them off.  I can understand why.  Said family member has had a lot of crazy (literally and figuratively) thoughts, significant paranoia, and who knows what else.  Several years ago – just after their mental capacity started to slip, but long before things got really bad – they came to live with my husband and me.  Even then it was a stressful thing.  I absolutely love this person.  They were the one who saw me as a person and not an extension of my husband when we started dating.  Even so, after about a week I couldn’t stand them being in the same house as me.  I never could relax.  I was constantly on edge about what the next thing would be – everything from getting upset when we watched television because “they” were tracking our loved one through our cable, to calling the FBI  while we were on vacationunjustifiably accusing our neighbors of some imagined offense.  Yes, I was worried about them, but at the same time I was concerned about what they would do to jeopardize my job, which was at a federal government facility, my status as a seminary student/student pastor, and my husband’s job as a law enforcement officer.  Needless to say, I was more than a little relieved when they decided the weather in Carlsbad, NM was just too hot for them and they decided to go back to where they came from.

Everything finally came to a head last night.  The police finally located our person.  They were squatting in a house that didn’t belong to them.  Luckily for us, the police officers realized that they were in crisis and got them to the hospital.  They are now in a place where, we hope, they will be getting the help they have needed for a long time.  But that also left a lot of loose ends.  What about their dog?  Where is their vehicle?  What do we do with their apartment and all their belongings?  It has taken a lot of phone calls to family that is scattered all across the country to come up with a path forward.  And we are still not sure how it will all work out.  All we know for sure is that our beloved is alive and safe.

Still, as stressful and exhausting as all of this has been, I love this person.  Underneath all the mental stuff I know they still have a good heart.  It is just buried under a layer of crap.  Unfortunately that is all that a lot of other people see – the crap.  And because that is all people see, people cut them out of their lives.  They refuse to call them, to visit them, to include them in any family events, or even to ask how they are doing.  Heck, there are some people in the family who were so out of touch with this family member (and the rest of us as well) that they didn’t even know that any of these latest things were happening or that they had been picked up by police or admitted to the mental ward.

I know I am rambling.  My tired brain isn’t capable of anything else at the moment.  But I guess what I am trying to say in all of this is that mental patients are people too.  They still want what we all want.  They want safety and security.  And most of all they want to be loved.  I know in some cases mental patients do present a danger to others.  But I think (and no, I am not versed in the statistics) more often than not they are just sick.  We need to treat them as such.  In Matthew 25:35-40 Jesus says, “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”  Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?  And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?  And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?”  And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”  This is what it should look like when we encounter anyone who is hurting or in need, especially those who are mentally broken.

So the next time you encounter someone who is having a mental health crisis, don’t turn away (unless of course they are a danger to you or others – and even then don’t ignore them, get the authorities involved).  Instead take the time to show them the love and grace that comes from Jesus Christ.  Take the time to talk and visit.  Take the time to care for them.  Take the time to ensure that they are safe.  Take the time to love them, because you, too, have been loved in your brokenness.

That is a lot to say when I have nothing to say.

Blessings,

Koreen