The Light of Life

If you’re like me, whenever someone your age dies, the first thing you want to know is, How? If you've been on social media much this week, it has been hard to miss the breaking story of Stephen “Twitch” Boss’s tragic death. Twitch was a famous dancer, choreographer, and producer. He was forty years old, a father to three young children, and a husband of nine years. His death was ruled a suicide. He’s not the first celebrity to take his own life, of course, and unfortunately, he won’t be the last. But this one left me shaken, stunned, and deeply saddened. I’ve been in a perpetual funk. I find myself blinking back tears as I’m walking the dog or folding the laundry. I can’t seem to move past it, this news of a man I never knew but through a television screen. Twitch was just 35 days older than me. His children are in the same age range as mine. His marriage was just a few years younger than my own. Perhaps that’s why his death has struck such a chord. 

In every television appearance, and every social media post he created Twitch was smiling, dancing, and laughing. He was living. But two weeks before Christmas he left his house, turned off his phone, walked into a motel less than a mile from home, and put a gun to his head. It is nothing less than terrifying to think that someone that vibrant, that loved, with the world at his feet and a bright future ahead could end it all so abruptly. What demons was he fighting? What lies was he believing? How deep was his despair? How intense was his pain? Why weren’t all the reasons he had for living, reasons enough? 

I could never begin to speculate on what led Twitch to leave this earth, nor will I ever pass judgment. I am familiar enough with depression to understand how invisible the struggle can be. Years ago when I waded through the depths of depression, I had a tight circle of friends, college professors who cared for me, parents who loved me, and a boyfriend who would do anything for me. Yet I suffered in silence. When my husband battled depression this past year he showed up to work with a smile on his face, reached every goal his supervisors set for him, and carried on each day just as before. He was highly functional on the outside but drained of all passion and purpose on the inside. He suffered in silence too. To this day people are so surprised to hear that either one of us dealt with depression. We’ve always seemed so healthy, so full of life, so extroverted. “Smoke in mirrors,” we tell them. Smoke in mirrors.

I remember days when I felt afraid to leave my husband alone, not because he had suicidal tendencies, but because I knew how quickly the enemy could gain a foothold and that a “low day” could spiral into something irreversible. Depression weakens us, and the enemy preys on the weak and vulnerable. He builds a descending staircase from our sadness, our uncertainty, our grief, and our pain. He coaxes us down, one shallow step at a time until we are so consumed by the darkness we cannot see a way out. He whispers lies in our ear as our eyes search for a glimpse of the light we left at the top. He tells us no one cares or understands enough to throw us a lifeline. He tells us the dark is safer, easier. Just down these stairs, he promises, there is freedom from all that burdens us. If I’m being honest, my first thought when I heard of Twitch’s suicide was, How could he do that to his wife and children? But those who follow the stairs into the abyss are not selfish; they are victims. Do not blame them, blame the enemy that led them there. Satan “was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies,” (John 8:44). He is a deceiver, disguising himself as light (2 Cor. 11:14) when in fact his domain is darkness, (Col. 1:13). He has one purpose, to kill and destroy (John 10:10).

There is something about the holiday season that magnifies our loss and suffering. Loneliness becomes a living, breathing force to be reckoned with. The number of suicides increases at an alarming rate. Oh how this must grieve the heart of God. This season is intended to celebrate His love for the world, a love expressed through the gift of His son, Jesus, who came to give us life to the fullest (John 10:10). If your light has gone dim, let Jesus’ light break through the darkness on your behalf. I understand that once you’ve descended the staircase, finding your way back up can feel impossible. The light you disengaged from may only be a sliver if you can see it at all. If that’s you today, let me offer you hope. There is life in Jesus, the light of all mankind. His light shines in the darkness, and darkness cannot overcome it, (John 1:4-5). I understand facing another day may require all the courage you can muster. Be assured, Jesus is your light and your salvation; in Him, you have nothing to fear (Psalm 27:1). I understand the climb up is far more challenging than the descent. Try as many times as you need to. You are not climbing alone. Your Father who loves you, who designed you, who knew who you would be long before you were ever conceived (Psalm 139:16), is right there with you, lighting your way. Please don’t give up. Trust in His ability to overcome when you are all out of fight. He, the Lord, will fight for you. You need only to be still (Exodus 14:14).

When you reach the top, (and you WILL reach the top), throw down a lifeline for those ascending behind you. Encourage them. Sit with them in the low days. Reassure them of their value and their purpose. Never stop praying for them. Darkness flees at the sound of Jesus’ name. Speak it over them day and night. Shine the light of Jesus for them so brightly that the darkness will lose all its appeal. Tell them it’s worth it because it is. It is SO worth it.

This is me throwing you a lifeline. This is me begging you not to suffer in silence. This is me shouting your name from the top, as someone who has ascended with the strength only made possible by God, telling you that your life is worth the climb. But don’t just take my word for it. Take a peek at that nativity scene in your neighbor’s yard. Turn up the radio to hear Oh Holy Night. Plug in that star on top of your Christmas tree. There is evidence all around us of God’s greatest gift to us, His Son, sent to rescue a weak and weary world, a weak and weary you.

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Psalm 119:105

*Help is available, 24 hours a day. Call 988 to reach the Suicide and Crisis Hotline.