I’m about to share with you something that happened to me in October 2021. To this day, it is the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, but I hope what I share at the end will resonate with you, especially if you or a loved one has battled depression before.
Someone once said, “You don’t realize the power of a moment until it becomes a memory.” Back in October of 2021, there were several moments that made up a week that changed everything. My dad was battling heavy depression. He had been absent from work (which he loved) and battling the darkness of loneliness. My mother was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome and was battling partial paralysis caused by adverse effects from a vaccination. She had been admitted to the hospital, and my dad felt helpless. He was crushed.
I scheduled an appointment with his doctor, and he reluctantly went. When his doctor asked him how he was doing, he was very transparent and honest, admitting that he had not taken his antidepressants in over three months and that he wasn’t eating. In fact, all he had in the pantry were peanut butter crackers. He came to the point where he lacked the will to live.
The next week, I was honored to preach a series of lessons for a church who met near my dad. He offered for my family to stay with him, and he even came to the meetings to support me. At the end of each service, he stood beside me, shaking hands with the Christians. Everything seemed to be okay on the outside, but deep down, something was terribly wrong.
Wednesday, October 27th, was the final night of the series. The theme was Weathering The Storm. As I closed the final lesson, I vividly remember looking at my dad and saying, “If you are battling the darkness, come to the Light.” I quoted Matthew 11:28–30, where Jesus said:
Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.
You see, although he came to the meetings to support me, my dad wasn’t a Christian. I wanted nothing more than for him to come to Christ. Unfortunately, he did not respond to the gospel that evening, but I know he heard it.
That night, we agreed on ordering pizza. It happened to be too late when we called to order, so my wife used what we had to make egg sandwiches. I asked my dad if he wanted some coffee, and while he never drank it that late, he drank some coffee with me. Little did I know that would be our last meal together.
The Braves were playing in the World Series. As the game was winding down, my dad looked at me and said, “I hope the Braves come back and win it all. I’m going to hit the hay, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Sounds good.” Those were the last words we would ever exchange.
We had planned on going to see Momma in the hospital the next day. Her birthday is October 30th so it was a chance to spend some time with her before my family and I headed back home to South Georgia. I got up pretty early that day, but he was sleeping in (which was very strange). I played some PlayStation with my son, cleaned up around the house, and spent some time with my wife and three girls. Around 11:00 AM, I went in to check on my dad to see if he was ready. I’ll never forget the moment I opened the door.
There was a haze in the room, as well as the distinct smell of gunpowder. My dad had pulled the covers all the way up to his neck. He wasn’t moving. I called his name several times and walked right up to him. In an effort to keep my composure, I said, “I’m going to go get dressed and I’ll be back. Remember we are going to see Momma today.” When I left the room, I told my wife, “He’s not moving. It’s like he is dead.”
My wife proceeded to go into the bedroom to check on my dad. When I came back to the room, she was standing silently. We then pulled the covers down to see what was going on. When we did, we saw the blood from the gunshot wound and his .45 in his left hand. He had committed suicide. He was gone. The bullet had gone through his heart, the mattress, and the floor. I truly believe that I was just a few minutes too late.
I called 9-1-1 to report what happened, and they asked if I wanted to try and revive him. I calmly said, “No ma’am; he’s gone.” The next few hours were an absolute blur. In a matter of minutes, there were close to twenty people in my parents’ house. They asked me questions, and I revealed to them exactly what had happened. My wife, being the incredible supporter that she is, lovingly led me to the couch to sit down. I then started to feel the impact of what had transpired.
Family, friends, and members of the church began to make their way into the house. I remember one of my cousins ordering pizza and everyone standing around eating and talking. I felt like a ghost in the house. There was so much noise, but, in a strange way, it calmed me down. I finally stepped outside to get some fresh air only to look back and see them taking my dad out of the house under a white sheet. I don’t know why, but I asked, “Is he dead?” They said, “Yes, sir. He is.” That statement was the closure I needed.
As hard and as brutal as this was, the hardest thing I had to do that day was tell go to the hospital to deliver the news to my Momma. When I arrived, she was sitting in her room looking out the window awaiting me and my dad’s arrival. She was confined to a wheelchair and could barely move her face to talk. When I arrived, of course, she noticed he was not with me. I sat down, took her hands, and said, “Cortez took his life this morning. He was tired of fighting and didn’t want to do it anymore.”
I hope you never have to experience a day like this.
A few days later, I was the minister at my dad’s funeral. I was hollow. I knew that I had to keep my composure and honor him to the best of my ability. The finality of a cold graveside is a harsh reminder of Hebrews 9:27:
And as it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment
After the funeral, we gathered where I had just preached the series of lessons. Eating a meal with family and friends did my heart so good. Two of my very best friends had traveled several hundred miles to be there with me. I will never forget that.
It’s been three years. I have no idea what we talked about or what happened in the following days. Eventually my family made the trip back home. All I know is that my wife was so incredible through the whole process. She watched the kids and gave me space. I would not have gotten through everything without her. I also had the support of our home church. They were very patient and understanding. I’m eternally grateful for those good Christians.
I have shared my story with you in hopes that it can help someone who is battling depression or someone who has lost a loved one to suicide as the result of depression. If you are struggling with depression and trying to decide whether you want to live or die, I urge you to consider the following:
First, you are loved. God gave you life and has demonstrated His love for you by sending His only begotten Son to die for you.
God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Romans 5:8
By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us.
1 John 3:16
Second, you are important. You matter more than you realize. Not only are you made in the image of God, you have a soul that will exist somewhere forever. The psalmist says:
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Psalm 139:14
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
Third, you are needed. A son needs his dad. A wife needs her husband. Your family and friends need you. You can overcome your battle with depression and live a life devoted to the Lord. If you are a Christian, the Bible would call you a vital piece of Jesus’ body, His church. Peter says, “You also, as living stones, are being built up a spiritual house” (1 Peter 2:5). Just as every part of your body is vital and every brick in a building is important, you should know that you are needed.
The text I used for my father’s funeral was Psalm 46, which begins this way:
God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
I will always cherish that psalm as it came to life for me that day in 2021. The strength I gained from reading the words was needed. I gained hope by truly believing God would help me weather the storm of my father’s death. Meditate on this psalm with me.
God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though its waters roar and be troubled,
Though the mountains shake with its swelling. Selah [This word means stop and think about what has just been said.]
There is a river whose streams shall make glad the city of God,
The holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved;
God shall help her, just at the break of dawn.
The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved;
He uttered His voice, the earth melted.
The LORD of hosts is with us;
The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah
Come, behold the works of the LORD,
Who has made desolations in the earth.
He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
He breaks the bow and cuts the spear in two;
He burns the chariot in the fire.
Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!
The LORD of hosts is with us;
The God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah
God is able. God is available. Look unto Him for strength and comfort in time of need. Be still and know that He is there for you. Don’t blame God. Don’t hate God. Draw closer to God and lean on Him. Always remember, darkness cannot compete with the light of the Gospel. If we at Topical Bible Studies can ever assist you, please contact us here.