Standing on the Precipice

A Personal Reflection

There are moments — even after all the years, the growth, the ministry, the battles already fought and won — when the edge returns. Quietly. Suddenly. The familiar pull to step away from the pain, not because I want to die, but because I want the ache to stop. The heaviness that settles over the heart feels unbearable, and the lie whispers again: “There’s no way out but one.”

I know that voice well. I’ve heard it in darker places than this. And I made a vow — not lightly — a sacred promise to God: never again. Never again would I attempt to end my own life. Not because I’m strong. Not because the darkness doesn’t sometimes sound convincing. But because I know now the weight it would leave behind — on those who love me, those I’ve helped, and those who still look to me as a sign that survival is possible.

The emotion is overwhelming at times. It feels like a tide that could sweep me under. And yet, something deeper than the pain still holds. A thread. A whisper. A quiet presence that says, “I am still with you.” The same God I made that promise to is the One who pulls me back, again and again.

I won’t romanticize this. I am standing on a precipice. But I’m also standing — not falling. I’m still here. Still choosing life. Not because it’s easy, but because I believe my story isn’t finished. There are people who love me. There are things left to do. And there is a God who has never let go.

So I stay. And I breathe. And I write this — for anyone else who may one day find themselves standing where I am now. You’re not alone.