Tonight I learned of the death, by suicide, of a good man I once called friend as well as Doctor.

Bruce  was a good man. Kind and giving, he bonded with his patients and his community. No one was ever just the “next” on his daily schedule. Each woman he saw was a unique individual, valued by God and thus worthy of his time and compassion.  Treating others with dignity was an essential part of his calling as a physician and as a Christian.

He wanted more than just physical healing for his patients. He also longed to help them find spiritual wholeness.  So passionate was his pursuit of this that he left his practice for a period of time to learn more about healthy eating and spiritual living so that he could bring these gifts back to the people of his community. I count myself as one of those fortunate recipients of God’s grace as delivered through his skills.

This brilliant man who gave so freely of himself knew firsthand what it felt like to be on the receiving end of rejection.  His own family disowned him early in his adult life  for becoming a physician because they saw it as a rejection of the “Christian Science” upbringing they had given him.  Perhaps because he knew how it felt to be thus “orphaned” he worked diligently in support of adoption programs for children and families.  Like many who are passionate caregivers, he also knew the pain of  trying to help an addicted ex-spouse while wrestling with   awareness of his own workaholic contribution to struggling relationships. It was easier, perhaps, to give and give of himself to so many than to acknowledge and personally nurture that empty spot within himself. After all, self awareness of one’s own coping mechanisms does not come easily.

Suicide has been described as the ultimately selfish solution to life’s problems.   There is an anything but simple truth in that assertion.  For some the selfishness is rooted in a desire to punish those who are seen as causing pain. Other individuals see it as the only way to end their own pain. I suspect that sometimes it is the one desperate attempt, however misconceived, at defining themselves by taking control of a life that has careened out of control.  For reasons  none of us will ever fully comprehend, Bruce seemed to see this fatal act as the one thing he could do for himself. Clearly, the physician could not heal himself. But I sure wish that my friend could have trusted the Great Physician in whose name he helped so many find healing and wholeness to give those gifts to him as well. And I really wish he could have reached out to the help available through the God-given gifts of those who make it their life work to help others who seek mental healing and wholeness. I wish he could have fully known what a blessing his life was to so many and how loved and valued he was by his friends and colleagues.  May God embrace him with the arms of peace and love he could not seem to find in this world. RIP, my friend.