Thinking of Bryan...

Today was a pretty blah day.  I woke in the wee hours of the morning with my head feeling like it was going to explode.  Nothing was taking away the pain and I was finding it difficult to even pray.  I was frustrated.  I am frustrated.  I was looking forward to going to church this morning...but ended up staying in bed with my aching head.  And what did I do? Well, I just laid there...thoughtless.

I'm wandering in the desert of spiritual dryness.  I miss that longing in my soul to spend time with Jesus.  If you aren't a person of faith...faith in Jesus...then you might think that strange.  There is nothing that compares to the feeling of being so close to my Savior.  I've never been good at being a witness for Jesus because I've got such a logical mindset.  I think that people might think I'm nuts if I tell them that they can have a relationship with God. What does that even mean? And how on earth can I even explain it? Well, I'm not sure that I can...but then again, I'm not sure that I have to.  Fortunately, God is bigger than me...and he can use what I have to give despite my feelings of inadequacy.  In the past couple of years, I've really wrestled with my faith.  I've always believed in God, but never really understood why.  Questions would often arise in my thoughts, but I would rarely pursue them.  I was content to just believe.  It wasn't until I was face to face with the enemy that I had to cinch up my bootstraps and really start seeking out the answers...so I could give them to Bryan.

Bryan Scott Edwards was born on December 18th, 1985.  I was five and he was my very first cousin to be born on my mother's side of the family.  He was a treasure.  Sweet, thoughtful, funny, and oh-so-lovable.  Though we were five years apart in age, we grew up together and I have many fond memories of him as a child.  Everyone loved Bryan, and loved to be around him.  He was always cracking jokes, yet he had a very tender side and was often looking out for others.  Bryan grew up and got mixed up in the wrong crowd.  He was constantly trying to be a better person, but he was really good at self-sabotage.  I can't tell you how many times he was in trouble...serious trouble.  Even so, he continued to try to pursue a career and had landed a deckhand job with Foss Maritime.  It was a good job, he was making some good money, and he was planning for his future.  Long story short, he severely hurt his back, got addicted to pain meds...and it all goes downhill from there. 

It had been at least a year since I had seen him last.  I was worried about him...missed him.  I had known that he was addicted to heroin and was living all but estranged to our family. Bryan was loved by our family...and was very special to me.  He would talk to me, take the time to visit, and he genuinely loved me. He even wrote me letters sometimes when I lived away.  Anyway, I ran into him at Fred Meyer one day (or rather, he ran into me).  It was one of those rare times that I was actually at the store without my kids.  He was on something, but he was happy to see me...in a shy, sort of embarrassed way. We talked...he poured out his feelings in the toy aisle amidst sarcasm and pride.  I talked with him the best way I knew how...with love, humor, and a bit of reprimand.  We talked for at least 15-20 minutes when he asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend.  She was milling around the store...he caught up with her, and we met.  Bryan was so broken, and despite the fact that his girlfriend wasn't who I would have picked for him, I was glad that he had her.  We talked for a bit, and towards the end he told me that he had been hanging with my neighbor lately.  I was thankful that I caught wind of this...because it prepared me for what was to come.  I openly hugged him, and made sure to tell him that I was praying for him and loved him.  We parted ways.

A couple of months later Bryan's truck appeared at my neighbor's house.  I wasn't quite sure, but it seemed like Bryan and his girlfriend might have been staying there and doing some work for him.  It's not uncommon for my neighbor to have random shady-looking guys doing work for him.  I was reservedly excited and hoped that I would run into Bryan at some point.  We waved once or twice and he spoke with Adam once...but for the most part, Bryan kept a respectful distance.  Bryan had been in and out of jail on various drug charges...and he had just gotten out for selling.  Adam and I were constantly on guard, and all I could do was pray that God would protect us and our home from whatever danger could arise. People aren't the same when they're on drugs...and they'll do anything to get them.

Bryan's truck was parked at the neighbor's with the hood up for a couple of weeks...broke down, no less.  Then, late one night in June, our home phone rang.  It was Bryan.  My heart nearly sank to my stomach in fear at the sound of his voice...what did he want?  Our neighbor was sick of Bryan's truck being parked at his house and he wanted it out, so Bryan asked if he could tow it up the driveway and park it in front of our shop.  I was nervous...if I thought it was good for him, I would have given Bryan anything...but this was a tough call.  Fortunately, Adam was home, and we agreed that it would be ok.  We knew that there were few to no options for Bryan at that point, and how fortunate for him that we lived next door??  Ha ha ha.  Bryan and a friend towed the truck in the dark after midnight that night while we watched from the house above in secret. 

At least 3 weeks later, my in-laws were visiting.  It was dinner time and we were all getting ready to head to Clatskanie to eat...until I heard a strange car pull up down at the shop.  It was Bryan.  Adam was in the shower...I ran to tell him the news and then rushed down to greet Bryan.  He was extremely apologetic as I jokingly gave him a hard time for dropping his truck and leaving it without ever calling or coming back. Then I saw his face....broken and emotionless. I said "are you ok?" and he couldn't speak.  Ever-so-lightly, he shook his head "no" as a lone tear streamed down his cheek.  Bryan was a very proud young man, so to see him like this made my knees go weak.  At that point he was pretty drugged and was frustrated with the fact that he couldn't even think, let alone try to fix his truck.  His girlfriend had kicked him out and he had been sleeping in a car (not quite sure where he got the car) in the woods for a few days.  In order to get to my house, he'd actually run out of gas and sat by the side of the road until someone came to help him.  He had nothing...and he asked for nothing.  We talked for a bit and he was afraid because he was probably going to be going to prison in a month or so.  I was torn because I wanted to stay and talk with him, but we were headed to dinner and Adam surely wasn't going to leave me alone.  Before we left he had asked for an empty gas can to siphon the gas that was in the truck to put in the car he was driving.  We gave him one and left...but not without me giving him hugs and telling him that I loved him.  I wanted to give him more, but I didn't have time to run back to the house.  I was sick to my stomach all the way to Clatskanie.  I text my mom and sister and asked them to pray right away.  I was so worried.

When we arrived back home, over two hours later, I was SO excited to see Bryan still siphoning gas out of his truck.  Why was he still there? Well, God kept him there...no doubt in my mind.  As Adam drove up the driveway, I leaped out of the car before it even stopped.  He had fallen asleep in his truck and had woken minutes before we arrived back home. Praise God! I immediately struck up more conversation and asked him if he would like me to get him something to eat.  He respectfully declined and I insisted.  I knew he had to be hungry.  I told him to wait while I ran as fast as I could to the house.  I packed an unopened bag of jerky, and huge bag of goldfish, and a few sodas.  I also ran to my room to frantically grab a couple of books.  I grabbed "Streams in the Desert" (a devotional) and "Heaven is for Real."  I didn't care if Bryan was too "macho" to read those books, I had an opportunity, so I took it!  When I got back down to the shop, Bryan was finished.  As I handed him the bag of food and explained the books, the look on his face was so telling.  He was so ashamed to be taking the food...ashamed to be there in the first place.  I continued to smile and I hugged him over and over (he never hugs back, by the way).  I told him I missed him, that his family missed him, that we loved him, etc, etc.  Then, with tears streaming down both our faces I looked him straight in the eyes and told him to not even THINK about taking his own life (not in those words exactly). I didn't let him leave until he agreed with me...then I cried as he left.

The following few weeks were rough for Bryan.  He eluded the police in a car chase, and again on a different date on foot. Bryan knew his fate was sealed, so he decided to "have fun" until the inevitable happened.  One night, after the police arrested him, Bryan went into convulsions in jail and he was taken to the hospital.  The police told the doctors in the ICU that "he took his 'stash' before his arrest" so he was OD'd on heroin and needed to be closely watched and they chained him to the bed before assessing his needs.  The next morning my mom called me and told me that Bryan was close to death and in an induced coma.  After much prayer, I decided to go see him in the ICU.  The police had released him despite the charges against him, but the plan was to keep Bryan in the dark about the release until he asked.  They were in the process of gradually pulling him out of the coma when I arrived at the hospital.  He declined seeing me, but the kind nurses allowed me to do as I pleased.  I entered the room and he immediately buried his face into the side of the bed.  Shame. So much shame.  I was upset with him because, from what the police said, he was taking a risk at ending his life by taking his "stash" of drugs.  Bryan was barely responsive, but I spoke my heart nonetheless.  I even went so far as to place my hand on his shoulder and pray out loud for God to release him from his chains.  I bawled.  I didn't want to lose Bryan...yet he was on a path of destruction.  I continued to voice my concerns to him and forced him to answer me...in the first 20 minutes that I was there, his face never came out of the corner of the bed.  There are many more details to that afternoon, but eventually my mom came and we both prayed some more and tried to talk with him. By the time we left, he was sitting up and eating, but he still didn't speak.  He listened, nodded, and cried.  Bryan absolutely refused to see his parents.  The next day he found out he was released by the police and left the hospital despite their urging him to stay and seek help.  In the last couple of years of his life he had been through a few rehab programs...always returning to his old ways.

A week or so later was fair week.  Fair week is kind of a big deal in the Edwards family.  Bryan's parents are very involved, and his dad is on the fair board.  Both Bryan and his sister Jenessa raised animals and showed them at fair every year while they were in school.  My family also enjoys fair week and visit the fair almost every day that it is open.  One night the kids and I were coming home late from the fair...it was after 9:00 but it was still a bit light out.  We came up the driveway to see Bryan diligently working on fixing his truck...happy and energetic.  I was thrilled to see him looking so good after his visit to the hospital.  In fact, I hadn't seen him looking this good in well over a year.  I pulled over, the kids stayed in the car, and Bryan and I chatted a bit as the last bit of light left the summer sky.  I didn't want the night to end!  He had asked me what had happened that day in the hospital because he couldn't remember from being so sedated.  I told him what the police had said, and he was shocked.  He said he never took his "stash" and that he didn't even have any drugs on him that night they arrested him.  He actually knew he was gonna get arrested that night (there was a warrant out) and he just waited by the road waiting for them to find him...once they did, he ran "just for fun." So typical of him.  Once they arrested him, they asked him what his "habit" was and he told them.  He also said that he had already tried to decrease his "habit" before getting arrested so that he wouldn't get as "dope sick" in jail.  He was frustrated by the justice system, as was I.  But I'm not gonna go into detail about that right now.  The important thing is that I was relieved that Bryan wasn't trying to end his life by overdosing on drugs.  We talked for at least 40 minutes while the kids waited in the car.  We talked about God, talked about family, and about how he was so thankful that I helped him that day when he was at my house.  He confessed that that day he hadn't eaten in a couple of days.  I told him God was watching over him...he didn't disagree...he didn't agree either.  He planned to return the next day to finish up the truck.  I told him I was looking forward to it.

I was beside myself with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Bryan.  I had so much I wanted to say, but I had to be careful about saying it.  Already, we had talked so much and he was really questioning God, and Jesus...and who Jesus really was.  Because of my lack of Biblical knowledge, I was having a hard time proving Jesus to him in a practical way.  It was a real eye-opener for me, and that forced me to dig deeper in the Word to find out for myself so that I could give an account in the future.  I fervently prayed for God to help me to say the right things to Bryan.  I SO wanted him to return to God and start asking Him for help.  Bryan grew up in the church and accepted Jesus as a young boy. He knew who God was, but he wasn't convinced that He was still there for him. 

When he arrived, I raced down to the shop to meet him.  Adam wasn't home, and the weather was scorching.  The kids played outside by themselves while Bryan and I visited.  The entire 5 hours he was there, he never once asked for anything.  He was always very respectful of the "invisible line" and never pushed beyond what he thought he deserved, which was nothing.  He even declined when I asked him what kind of sandwich he wanted for lunch. Of course I fed him!  He never came up to the house, and was respectful and sweet when the kids came around.  Bryan loved kids and always asked how mine were doing. He attended all their birthday parties as well, when he was sober of course.

I stayed with Bryan the entire time he was working.  We had the best time.  He told me so much of his heart, and we laughed just like old times.  I prayed throughout the day...asking God to give me words.  I needed Bryan to see that he could have life with Jesus and that He would always be with him, no matter what.  I wanted Bryan to know that he was worth it, and that he had everything to live for.  Hell isn't a destiny anyone should desire...or even feel they deserve.  God had a plan for Bryan, and if he could just be open to it, he would see that his life could find purpose.  Of course, I couldn't actually "say" most of any of that for fear that Bryan would just shut off.  I really just had to hope that Bryan would see Jesus through me.  I tried my best...and the rest was up to God. 

Eventually, Bryan fixed the truck and he was off.  That was the last time I saw him.

It was a week or two later and he went to Jail to finally serve some time.  Our whole family was thankful.  He needed that time to think and get clean.  He served 3 months.  In that time I was able to send him some books (at his request and the request of his mother) and I sent him a book of testimonies from reformed outlaw bikers.  We also wrote to each other.  His last note to me was clear and from his heart.  He wanted so badly to be clean, sober, and successful...but he was still so ashamed.  He wrote that he was planning to come to our big family Thanksgiving which was in a couple of weeks.  I really prayed that he would follow through with that. 

Bryan was released from jail in good spirits.  He was ready for a new start, but I think he found he couldn't do it alone.  As I've said before, Bryan had too much pride.  He never came to Thanksgiving, and he shot himself just a few days later.

I was so so very sad.  In my eyes, the enemy had won.  There was no more hope for Bryan, and the thought made me sick.  I questioned myself...wondering if I could have done more, but I couldn't go back.  I did the best that I could, and my prayers had to do the work I couldn't do.  In the days and weeks following his death, I sought God for peace. How could I have peace knowing that Bryan was gone forever?  I needed to know that there was even the slightest hope that I would see his face in heaven.  Well, I sought...and I have hope.  But my search will never be over. I need to be ready next time...next time somebody asks me who God really is...I need to have an answer.

So tonight, as I beat myself up for not seeking God, for being spiritually dry, for having no words when I should be praying, I think of Bryan.  It was a gift to be able to share my faith with Bryan and to be able to spend so much time with him in his last months.  It's so hard to know how to talk to and help those that are so deep in destruction. 

Love.  Love the way that Christ loves. 

I pray renewal over my soul and ask that God send the broken so that I might be a light in their darkness.

 ^"But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect..." (1 Peter 3:15)