Nov 2 2020 Psalm 130

Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice


After a very busy few days, I’ve escaped to the home of old friends out of town. I sleep, eat, return to daily prayer and writing, and sleeping more. Last week, I worked hard on pulling together our annual church convention, and with COVID, it was all online. That included figuring out how to assure the attendees of the meeting were the registered delegates, how to vote, worship, and celebrate our retiring bishop. There was a whole team working on it, and everyone worked and stressed. But the convention, held on Saturday went quite well, with participation from people throughout western Oregon. That would have been enough to warrant a few days of recovery.

Meanwhile my loved one was increasingly symptomatic. The police arrived at our home on Thursday night, in the middle of the night, because our loved one had called the police on us. They arrived, she screamed, they listened, they left, she yelled more.

Friday night, I went to bed early to be ready for Saturday’s convention. In the morning, we discovered that our loved one had taken a glass flower vase and thrown it into the street, leaving glass all over. We checked their room, and it was empty, a mirror broken in the bedroom. At that, I headed off to my 7 hour meeting.

When I got home, I learned from my husband that our loved one was outside the local hardware store, along with police and paramedics. I rushed up there. It turns out that our loved one had first walked to a stranger’s house about ½ mile away, and gone to the door asking for a hammer so they could kill their husband. The startled homeowner called the police. My husband had already called the police and alerted them to our loved one’s absence, so when they received this report, they knew who it was. Several hours later, our loved one apparently walked about a mile to hardware store, in stocking feet, and took a hammer and walked out of the store. They proceeded to the grocery store, where they stole some food and beer. By this time, the police had arrived responding to a call from the hardware store. When confronted by the police, our loved one resisted and threatened, and eventually was handcuffed and put in the back of a police car. When I arrived, my husband was talking to the police and our loved one was sitting in the car.

The plan was to transport them by ambulance to a psychiatric unit, and likely admit them. Being over 21, and refusing to give us information, we may or may not be notified of when and where they’re transferred, although I suspect the investigator will call to learn more, and we may get information then.

Meanwhile, my husband and I have been asked to participate in a parent subcommittee for legislation designed to clarify the standards for involuntary commitment, and since Friday, we’ve both written one page statements in support of the proposed legislation. The current legislation is vague enough that it has effectively been defined by the county, state and federal courts who’ve heard cases about ‘harm to self’, ‘harm to others’ and ‘unable to meet basic needs’. Where we live, it has been effectively defined as imminently at risk of suicide, homicide, or serious injury because of inability to care for oneself.

There is strong and committed opposition to the proposal, primarily from people with ‘lived experiences’ or people with mental health issues. Unfortunately, from my perspective, the people who are opposed to the legislation are not as sick or unaware as my loved one. My loved one may not homicidal, but I’m deeply saddened that I saw them walking away in handcuffs be immediately, an image I will never forget. They need treatment before they are handcuffed, and certainly before they actually harm themselves or others.

And so today, I rest. I pray. I cry out to God, and wait patiently. I’m not at all certain how this is going to resolve. I will take care of myself so I’m ready for whatever’s next.