Joni Talks About Suicide: How to Find Light in the Darkness

A Call That Broke My Heart 

Just this morning my friend called to let me know that his grandson, a young man back in Florida, hung himself last night. So tragic. And it seems to be happening more often these days. 

Well… I’ve experienced that numbness, the emotional “deadness” of wanting to disappear, to just, die. It was in 1967 when I broke my neck and became a quadriplegic. The first month in the hospital, there were plenty of get-well cards and visitors. But after a while, the novelty wore off. The get-well cards dwindled, and the visitors stopped coming. My hopes also diminished as doctors confirmed I would never be able to walk or use my hands. The idea of being in a wheelchair for the rest of my life was overwhelming. I sank into depression. 

I felt… nothing. Nothing moved me inside. I didn’t “watch” TV in the hospital—I stared at it. I was listless and withdrawn, thinking things would never be better. I just wanted to die. When no one was around, I tried to kill myself by wrenching my head back-and-forth on my pillow. I wanted to break my neck up higher, and so end my existence. 

Man of Sorrows, What a Name… 

One night, long after visiting hours, my high school friend ran up the back stairs of the hospital. She snuck past the nurses’ station, slipped into my room, and crawled onto my hospital bed. 

In the dark, as she snuggled next to me, I whispered, “Jacquie, what are you doing here?!” 

 “Shh,” she said and then began to softly sing, 

“Man of Sorrows what a name, for the son of God who came, ruined sinners to reclaim: Hallelujah, what a Savior!” 

She laid there next to me for a long time, not saying anything. 

And it ended up being a turning point for me. I didn’t immediately drop thoughts of suicide, but I had the faint flicker of hope. I felt somehow… “Connected” to community. Jacquie felt like Jesus next to me. And it was this love that made life—for me—worth living. 

Finding Hope 

Slowly, I discovered purpose. (Mainly, I wanted to live for my little nieces and nephews.) I found the Bible (at least parts of it) to be helpful. I was no longer isolated. Rather than shoving them away, I started listening when people ascribed positive meaning to my plight. 

I slowly placed confidence in God because… I didn’t want to go through hell anymore. I wanted to get on the hope-filled road. I started to wheel down that hope-filled road—trying my best to trust in God, inch by inch. And… I’ve never turned back. 

So now, decades later when I encounter other disabled people who want to end their lives, I get it. I understand. But despair and hopelessness do not have to win the day. 

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2 

If you know someone who doesn’t think life is worth living, pray for them. I thank God for the prayers of those kind Christians who interceded for me when I wanted to self-destruct. And I thank God for the sacrifices they made to lift me out of social isolation and get me connected to real community. 

All of it opened the way for me to—inch by inch—trust God. 

Bless you for tackling this hard subject of suicide. I pray these few thoughts might help. May God’s favor shine on you as you bring despairing people into welcoming community, draw them out of social isolation, and ascribe hope to their plight. 

-Joni Eareckson Tada