Jamie Blaine - Mercy Never Sleeps: Sleepless Thoughts on Faith, Heaven, and the Fear of Heights

Mercy Never Sleeps

2017 Jamie Blaine

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Scripture quotations marked AKJV are taken from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crowns patentee, Cambridge University Press. Scripture quotations marked BSB are taken from The Holy Bible, Berean Study Bible, BSB 2016 by Bible Hub. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked esv are from the ESV Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version). 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked HCSB are from the Holman Christian Standard Bible. 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. HCSB is a federally registered trademark of Holman Bible Publishers. Scripture quotations marked ICB are from the International Childrens Bible. 1986, 1988, 1999 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked JUB are taken from The Jubilee Bible (from the Scriptures of the Reformation) edited by Russell M. Stendal. 2000, 2001, 2010. Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the King James Version. Public domain. Scripture quotations marked THE MESSAGE are from The Message. by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Scripture quotations marked NASB are from New American Standard Bible. 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. Scripture quotations marked NCV are from the New Century Version. 2005 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked NHEB are taken from the New Heart English Bible. Public domain. Scripture quotations marked NIV are from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked NLT are from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation. 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked WNT are from the Weymouth New Testament. Public domain.

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Epub Edition August 2017 ISBN 9780718032975

ISBN 978-0-7180-3297-5 (eBook)

Library of Congress Control Number 2017944424

ISBN 978-0-7180-3272-2 (TP)

Printed in the United States of America

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I hope you will put up with a little more of my foolishness.

2 CORINTHIANS 11:1 (NLT)

When you are young and foolish and have no healthy fear of death, when you feel like, quite honestly, you have nothing to lose and can never ever truly die, you might pray some truly reckless prayer. Something scandalous and rash like, God, give me adventure.

Later, you may regret this request. But by that time its probably too late.

JAMIE BLAINE

I have become a brother to dragons and a companion to owls.

JOB 30:29 (JUB)

S OME NIGHTS IT SEEMS LIKE THE WHOLE WORLD IS COMING APART AT THE SEAMS.

Im driving down Sixth Street with the rain coming down in sheets, on my way from one psychiatric crisis call to the next, from hallucinations at the city jail to a suicidal math professor in Skylark ICU to a distraught divorcee at the Malibu II apartment complex out past the mill. Im on my way to see a lapsed prescription-pill addict at the Westwood ER when my cell buzzes with another call.

A hysterical voice rushes in before I can say hello. Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you. I need help! I need help right now!

Whoa. Calm down, I answer. Tell me whats going on.

I cant do this anymore, the woman cries. Ive got the pills laid out. Theyre right here. Im looking at them now.

The phone hisses and with a click it dies. I pull over to the side of the road, dial back, and she answers on the first ring. Sorry, I explain. Im driving, and the receptions real bad. Tell me whats too much to take.

I got fired at work, my husbands been running around with some girl I thought was my friend, and I had knee surgery and now its even worse than it was before. She spits everything out rapid fire. How many reasons do yall need? Cause Ive got plenty more.

There is no yall, I tell her. Its just me. But Ill try and help you best I can.

Shes fading in and out, so I start the truck again and drive in circles, searching for a steady signal on higher ground, trying to find a place where we can hear each other clearly enough to talk more than one broken sentence at a time. I catch garbled snippets about a pistol and lots and lots of pills. Its a tough decision, and Ive got to make it on the fly. Can I try and direct this person over the phone, or is it best to simply go to where she is?

It takes four tries, but I confirm her address and let her know Im headed that way, keeping her on the phone as it crackles until the line finally goes dead. The highway splits at a boat landing and disappears into thick black forest. I dial Westwood ER.

Im hung up in some drama, I tell Dr. Black. But Ill be there. Probably bringing another one with me.

Roger that on the drama. Black sighs. Well save a room.

Im deep into the trees when the crisis line rings again. Will God forgive me for this? the woman asks, crying harder now.

God forgives us, I tell her.

How do you know?

Working psych crisis requires someone equal parts missionary, daredevil, detective, magician, tracker, and theologian. You wear a lot of hats once the sun goes down. You wing it and do your best.

If humans can forgive each other for so much terrible stuff, then dont you think Gods gotta be bigger and better than us?

Thats what Im hoping, she says, her voice cracking but clear.

Me too, I reply. Listen, I just turned off the highway. Hold tight, okay?

There is a long pause and the sound of one deep breath. Im holding best I can, she says, and the line goes silent again.

I turn left at the wagon-wheel mailbox and drive three-quarters of a mile to a long driveway in the middle of a serpentine curve. One low light shines in the distance from a small brick rancher in the middle of a barren field. I pull in close and take a minute to ready myself for whatever comes next.

The front door flies opens. A woman rushes onto the porch, wrestling a bag behind her. The rain is heavy in the headlights. I reach for the door to make a run for her, but before I can get out she is hobbling toward me fast as she can. She yanks the passenger-side handle, but its locked. I reach over and pop the latch as she beats against the glass.