Game Over, Man! Game Over!

Yeah, I know this isn't the most original title for a post; especially if you were a teen male growing up in the turbulent sci-fi of the 80s (still one of my favorite movies, though!). That said, it seemed to convey exactly how I've been feeling, lately; at least on some things.

The adoption process continues to go smoothly, but the closer we seem to get to finally realizing what we see as a completion of our family (for now, anyway), the longer the freeway seems to stretch. We get to see the kids online, we get to hear them sing, we are able to write them through email, and even have opportunities to send them birthday gifts (thank you, Adrienne!). And all of this is incredible, but pales in comparison to having the chance to talk to them in person, to hug them and tell them how much they mean to us, to watch them grow.

As time progresses... ever... so... slowly... ebola has taken part of the continent by the throat. Many of the small countries, including our adopted Sierra Leone, are fearful of the unknown. A virus that hasn't visited the Eastern part of Africa (from what I understand) until now currently has taken almost three hundred lives in SL alone. 

Funny, as I was initially going to write this, I was overwhelmed. I was depressed. I was tired. I still am. 

We have two potential children living in a biological hell; we have a daughter who is as unpredictable as she is often predictable. School started today for our two at home, and her's was a day of manipulation, exhaustion, and a stressed-out brand new special-ed teacher. 

Well, our son had a good day!

I am blessed to the seams. Honestly, I am. Hard to believe, reading this, but it's true. And, yet, this desire to scream the classic phrase originally screamed by Bill Paxton still persists. "Game over, man! Game over!"

I am constantly reminded of the Gospel of Matthew 6:25-34. "Do not worry..."; do you think the flowers we mow are worried about their appearance? Do you think the birds are worried about eating, tomorrow? 

No.

Yet, I keep holding on to my fear of the unknown and my dread of the right now. 

I had a friend call me last night, practically in tears.

"Did you hear the news?" he asked.

"No." A myriad of thoughts swarmed through my mind. Was his wife okay? Did he see something about Freetown in the news? Was New York attacked, again?

"Robin Williams killed himself..."

Wow. It was absolutely tragic; especially hearing him share the news with me, as I knew what an icon Mr. Williams was to him. Then, again, it wasn't his wife, our kids, or our country. 

People loved him, he said. Heck, if he was depressed he could have walked down the street and people would have swarmed to him! 

His voice cracked as he spoke. 

As he talked to me, I wanted to use the moment to deepen our discussion about Christ and His sacrifice for us. I wanted to tell him I wasn't worried about where Robin Williams "went" if he knew the Lord (I know there is debate about salvation and suicide, but I believe the Scriptures are clear). 

And I told him I was sorry. That's all I could say. 

I was saddened by the tragedy that is suicide, but I was not sad about who it was, necessarily. My heart breaks for his family and all of his fans; but he is gone, and there is nothing to be done for him.

I also wanted to tell him I could, in some ways, understand why he did what he did. I can understand being surrounded by people who love you, but feeling isolated and alone. I have no desire to die; no! But I can, in some way, perhaps, understand why he may have taken that one moment to give up. Unfortunately, it was one moment too long. 

Sorry for the ramble, if you've read this far. Can't seem to help myself today. I needed to get this out of my system and hope it benefits someone else, as well. Life really is an amazing thing, and I plan on seeing it that way, again soon. I promise.