Wheels Within a Wheel

When Seth crafted this folksy sculpture for me, back in 2009 or 2010, I doubt that he was aiming to materialize Ezekiel's vision. But that's what it has always reminded me of...along with all four of us siblings.

I was so touched by his gift, its originality and thriftiness, his creativity, and his craftsmanship, that I couldn't stop praising him for it and exclaiming how much I loved it. He was visibly surprised by my response, and I could tell that he had not seen it coming. The attention embarrassed him a bit, and I felt bad for putting him on the spot. I toned it down, attempting a more subdued, yet still genuine, compliment. I told him that he could make and sell his wall hangings on Etsy, but he drew back from the idea. To him, it was a gift only; not something to market to the public. I offered to do all of that stuff for him, but I really should have just zipped my lips and enjoyed the moment without turning it into a business pitch. 

He had put so much of himself into the work of creation...I couldn't help but adore him more for it. He was honest in giving it - not seeking praise or attention, but only seeking to show love for his big sister, whom he knows appreciates arts and crafts. He was startled by my reaction, and I was startled that he didn't think more highly of himself because of his handiwork.

Well, when I flew back to Portland I hung it up in the entryway so I could see it every day. I used it as decoration in a photo shoot for some of the cards I was selling on Etsy, and I didn't think too much about it until about half-a-year later (give or take). Things were getting harder for him, and he was struggling more openly (though not by choice). I moved it to the coat rack so that it was very visible. 

Whenever I saw it I thought of him and prayed for him.

Lord help me, I prayed for him. 

And he was praying too, every day, petitioning God for deliverance and healing.

I'm reminded of a time when I was in a similar place of desperation, about ten years ago. I was in my teens, and Seth was maybe 10 or so. We had just gotten home from a great family vacation at my Grandpa's fishing lodge in Ontario, and we learned that my dad was going to take my mom to court in a custody battle for Seth. My brother Jesse was still living with him at that point; it wasn't a good situation for him, so I knew it would be bad for Seth, too. When I heard this news, I felt sick to my stomach, and my heart became as heavy as a boulder. I went up to my bedroom, lay on the bed facing the heavens, and began to cry out to God with an internal wailing that words couldn't express. For a long time I prayed like this, mouth open but without making a sound. I had never prayed that hard before - with so much force and pressure - it was the loudest I'd ever been in my life. 

I don't know how long I was in there, praying like that, but I'd determined not to leave until I felt I had been heard. At some point, out of nowhere, a sense of deep calm, peace, and assurance came over me. I knew - really knew - that things would work out and Seth would be okay. I sensed that it was totally in God's hands.

And then, quite mysteriously, my dad dropped the whole thing. There was no explanation - it just went away as quickly as it had come. No going to court, no custody battle. He had given up before he'd even started. For me, it was a victory that had been won in secret, and it was a delight to my soul.

There was only one other time I prayed like that (before Seth died. Since then, it has been a different story). It was near-ish the end of Seth's struggle, when I could clearly see that perhaps God hadn't heard me all those other times I had prayed. While Ryan was away at work, I "locked" myself in our room and vowed not to come out until God and I had reached some kind of understanding.  I was in there for at least an hour, and when peace finally broke into that room, it tasted just as it had ten years ago. "I will deliver Seth" is the message I heard in my heart. Peace just poured over me, drenched me, and my confidence was unshakable. God had this, just like he'd had it before.

Well, either that or I have the worst hearing in the galaxy. While that's still up for debate, I know that Seth is in the arms of a loving Father. It has crossed my mind, with no small amount of torment, that perhaps my prayer sped up Seth's departure. That's the kind of thing that goes through your mind when your little brother takes his life. Every little thing you've ever done or said is called into question, is suspect.

And while I go 'round and 'round in circles with God, tangled in his often unbearable strangeness, Seth's wire sculpture always helps to bring me back. I may just be spinning my wheels sometimes, with this whole mess called life, but I'm housed inside a bigger Wheel which hasn't lost its traction - and never will.