Zeke

i know it would be more colourful to write about a wide spectrum of life’s happenings.but my promise of authenticity dictates that i should play the hand i’m dealt with.

as i arrived in the hospital i thought i might meet some friends and we get to pray for Zeke.
there in front of the ICU i saw someone whom I recognised as Dana, his fiancee, just sitting and staring blankly.
“are you Dana? i’m a friend of Zeke. how’s he?”
to which Dana replied “he’s…gone”
no hysterical cries. just the feeling as if time is suspended and the brain questioning how it should process the unwelcome information.
i asked Dana to accompany me into the ICU.
she then pointed me to the ward no. 4, where i could only guess that behind the curtain the nurse is unplugging all the medical equipments from him.
i stood a distance, feeling too chickened to move any closer.
then i prayed.

for someone without prior condition anywhere near tumour or cancer or something as scary, Zeke’s sudden brain hemorrhage is the ultimate reverse of winning a lottery.
last Wed he was just taking a shower after work, and perhaps getting ready to meet her fiancee when the sharp headache attacked and knocked him into a coma.
he didn’t even have a history of high blood pressure.

Zeke is not the only friend i’ve lost. i’ve had a few, to familiar or mysterious illness, car wreck, accidental electrocution, etc.
but his death left me with hollow feelings. as i eat or drink or talk to people i can’t escape the sad thought that Zeke is not able to do all this…
you see, Zeke and i, we’re not that close. but that is exactly what makes the difference.
few months back in a sunny afternoon he called me and asked how i was doing, whether i was seeing anyone, and offered to introduce me to a girl he knew. i joked about him being luckier than i am, for having a girlfriend and preparing to get married soon.
for someone i’m not that close with to care enough about me and actually doing something about it, instead of just shrugging shoulders or feeling pity…that’s why all this hollow feelings come about.
i’ve lost someone who, given more time together, would make a great friend in this life.

can i… be Zeke to someone…
God help me.

thanks for reading.

matthew

you may or may not know this person. this is Matthew Warren, the son of Rick Warren, one of the most admired pastors of all time.
Matthew committed suicide recently.
he pulled the trigger after suffering from and being treated for, depression.
i thought it’s also quite interesting to note that Rick’s wife, Kay, wrote a book on JOY not long ago.
so the son of a famous pastor (who inspired millions in their walk of faith, and his wife (who teaches about joy) found himself so desperately losing battle to…depression.

oh i know depression… and i suspect many of us do.
just the other day my friend Charlie brought his mom to church. in our small group fellowship he asks us to pray for her because he’ll be taking her to doctors in China for some treatments for depression. to me depression is mental, it’s about perspective in life. so i’m rather skeptical what can the drugs do to help.
depression oh depression…i know how it feels like and how trapping it can be.
like a quicksand. or quickmud.

in my own bouts with depression, my 2 cents goes like this: like in a physical quicksand, unless someone comes with a stick and pull you out, there’s very limited chance of surviving. frantic movements will make it worse. you need somebody to give you another perspective.
you see, i get depressed because there’s this gap between expectation and reality.
the larger the gap, the more depressed i become.
in order to escape this trap, I need someone to correct either my expectation or my perception of reality.
i love the quote by Mary Kay Ash: “Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn’t know it so it goes on flying anyway.” you see, it’s the perception that defines reality.
oh i dun mean to say it in the “Matrix” sort of way, that i can bend the laws of physics and jump off a cliff unharmed n all…but in the mental world, to escape the depressive prison, we got to…change our matrix, so to speak.

Matthew, I understand your struggle…
you have ideals so high and unbridgeable compared to the realities you see in daily lives…
I refuse to theologize about where you are right now, or where you will be.
but I know the Lord, the Shepherd, loves you unconditionally.
your defeat does not make you less loved. or less worthy.

thanks for reading.