My friend, Janet, committed suicide. My brain is in shock; it just happened.

I do not know why. I have only guesses. Maybe her health was worse, and her pain was unbearable. Maybe her depression was stronger on the inside than she revealed on the outside. Maybe a crisis event pushed her beyond the place her sanity was intact. Maybe her smile and the sparkle in her voice masked greater financial straits. Maybe she was at “sixes and sevens” with someone. Maybe her mental health slipped from the safety of its moorings. At this moment, her friends and family and I may never know.

Suicide leaves big question marks. What happened? When did I talk to her last? Who saw her last? What time was that text message from her? What do we do now? Questions emerge about our future, and then that seems selfish and wrong.

I know you, the readers, have been touched by a suicide at some point. Many have experienced it with the death of a close friend or family member. Others, like me up until now, have witnessed it from a distance.

The first suicide I knew about happened in my hometown school. It resulted in losing a 14-year-old boy (about four years older than me). He was spurned by a girl.

During my pastoral service, I have worked with families when suicide was the cause of death. There is one instance I remember clearly. Around the gravesite, a few hundred had gathered. I read scripture, prayed and spoke a few words. The brief sermon’s focus was about hope and trusting in God, even when staring suicide in the face. Before the benediction, all of us recited one of the most familiar Bible passages recounted in the life of Jesus. We raised our voices in unison saying, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believes in him shall have everlasting life.” (John 3:16).

Many of the mourning crowd re-gathered at the family home. That is where the one brief, memorable conversation with the deceased man’s uncle occurred.

“Well, we know where he is, don’t we,” said the uncle. His closing “don’t we” was a declaration, not a question.

I was surprised by the statement and had to re-focus. “Excuse me. What did you say?”

He repeated, re-phrasing his sentence. “We know what the Bible says about committing suicide, don’t we?”

I paused, then spoke. “Yes, we know what the Bible says. You and I should also remember the Bible concentrates on the merciful and forgiving nature of God.” After a quick moment, I added, “God is the judge. Where your nephew spends eternity is not for you or me to decide.”

That is what I believe. God is the judge, and God’s judgment is a refining judgment. I believe, like the prophets in the Old Testament of the Bible, that God’s wrath is a cleansing wrath. In one instance, Zechariah prophesies, echoing both Isaiah and Malachi:

“… And (I will ) refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call upon my name, and I will answer them. I will say, “They are my people”; and they will say, “The Lord is my God.” Zechariah 13:9

Christian faith teaches God is filled with justice (which is a biblical synonym for righteousness) and mercy. I absolutely affirm life is sacred. And to speak bluntly, I cannot believe God will judge an entire life on one final, mistaken act.

My prayer is this. “Lord, tell Janet she is loved more than she knows.”

(This article was published in the Coloradoan in August, 2016)