To you, O Lord, I cried, and to the Lord I made supplication: ‘What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness? Hear, O Lord, and be gracious to me! O Lord, be my helper!’ You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you for ever. (Psalm 30: 8-12)

Over a quarter-century ago I seriously considered taking my own life. I had descended into a pit. A sense of failure, loneliness, and despair dominated every horizon.

The pit was both very real and a complete illusion. Because the pit commanded my perspective and influenced every decision it grew deeper and darker.

I had not stumbled into the pit. I had dug it. It was my creation. There was a brighter and better reality beyond the pit that I could hear and see, but I chose to keep digging.

With help I ultimately chose to climb out of the pit. Over time I filled it and planted a garden in the turned soil. Today this garden is a memorial to the power of choosing and helping.

Despite the flowers that grow there now, on occasion I still feel the cold shadow of the pit. Remembering my role in creating that dark reality, I am more certain of my role in creating other realities.