Remember remember men this movember

A few years ago, I had been up a ladder when a friend called to tell me he was searching for one of our friends by the river who had been reported missing. I sat on the ladder in the dark roofspace in shock, haunted, ringing round other friends and asking them to pray.
 
Some time after that, on another occasion, my friend called me late one evening. ‘There’s something I need to tell you’. We’d spent so much time over the years thinking, talking, praying. But he’d never told me about this. Not this.
 
A separate incident, another phone call, this time beginning with ‘are you sitting down?’ This news of a man in meltdown was perhaps the most shocking yet – no warning signs, and huge consequences.
 
‘Hello, can you talk?’ Until quite recently he’d been at football most weeks. His passion and play made us all laugh. But what his friend told me took all of that away.
 
Yet another situation just a couple of months ago, this time a WhatsApp message: ‘Hi guys, just so you know this came across my Facebook feed today’. The news article was devastating; everyone was in shock. All this time he had been amongst us, saying nothing.
 
 
Some have hit harder than others, but all of them have left scars. In some cases, I will never forget the place I was, the sickness in the pit of my stomach, or the way my heart and limbs trembled as I heard the news for the first time. In all cases, the same questions arose in my mind, and still do.
 
Should I have said something?
 
Could I have done more?
 
Why didn’t he tell me?
 
How can we men get better at helping each other?
 
Some men at the centre of these real stories were my friends. Some of them were my acquaintances. They, their families and in some cases their victims will suffer the consequences of their actions forever. All these men walk roads of rehabilitation, of restoration, and in some cases repentance. All of them are at different points on their journey. And, significantly, because the reality of their struggles are now out in the open, I am able to more freely walk that road with them, albeit at varying degrees of distance.
 
 
In his wonderful book ‘Cry Like a Man’, author Jason Wilson debunks the myth that ‘real men don’t cry’. In the book’s prologue, Wilson states the following:
 
‘We have been deceived into suppressing our emotions to impress others; there's simply no room for weakness. If we are struck in our hearts, our health, or our wallets, there's no room for weakness. When we vent, we’re perceived as complainers. When we hurt, we’re wimps. When we're tired, we're being lazy. When we fight, we’re rebels. When we’re discouraged, we’re depressed. When we hesitate, we're double minded, and when we cry, we're soft. With all these predetermined judgments about us, it's no wonder why so many of us “fake it to make it”…suppressed feelings of anger and anxiety in men have reached epidemic levels, changing the landscape of society within families, schools, cities, and ultimately within prisons. And if it's not addressed now, it's simply going to kill us.’
 
As parents, carers, adopters and those seeking to be strong for the children in our lives, we must get serious about this epidemic, about men’s mental health, and about pro-actively being both strong and weak with one another as we walk the road in community. It’s the reason the Bible observes that ‘a man who isolates himself seeks his own desire; he rages against all wise judgment.’ (Proverbs 18v1). Learning to humbly receive and strengthen those who are struggling is vital, and at the same time we must become comfortable in what I call ‘daring to disclose’ before it is too late.
 
I have never forgotten the day when, as a much younger man in my university days, a now long-time brother in Christ and member of my ‘prayer square’ confessed a secret of his heart to the group, and asked us for prayer. Two things happened in that moment. He demonstrated his freedom from emotional incarceration.  And he inspired us to be more like him. His secret was no secret to God; he knew he was already forgiven, but was seeking men who could help to hold him accountable, and hold him up in prayer. And ever since that day I have determined to follow his and Christ’s lead.
 
It was Christ the God-man who hung for me and for you in naked shame, arms open, in full view of a mocking world, seemingly so weak yet eternally so strong. He knew then what He would later teach the apostle Paul: that His grace is sufficient for all mankind, for His ‘strength is made perfect in weakness’; because of that Paul was able to say ‘most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.’ (2 Corinthians 12v9)
 
Reach out this Movember to a man or men in your life. Dare to disclose. Find freedom, forgiveness, and faith in that moment. Be someone that other men can disclose to. And always, always remember.
 
Real men cry!