Author: Mark Speed

“Dad, remind people to just simply S-L-O-W — D-O-W-N.  Remind them to be LOOKING for those who need someone to give them hope. Thanks for listening. I love you”. -Braden

“I’ll certainly remind people, but I’ll also take this advice into my own heart as a father. Son, I’m sorry for being too late in getting it.” – Braden’s dad

“Our boys had many similarities, they could have been friends. Goofy, hilarious, creative, and loving.  There are so many like them still alive today, it’s tragic ours had to leave before eyes and hearts would be opened to see the need for change”.   –  Christian’s mom (Wendy)

Summer getaways are one of my favorite things in life. If we’re honest, most of us revert to our childhood when we go on vacation.  In all our years raising two kids, I’ll admit to my excited anticipation when planning a special family trip.  It’s just so fun to think of new ways to make unique memories.  I’ve always considered it making “memory deposits” into our family “heart bank” so those can be drawn upon for the rest of our lives. Especially, during difficult days.

Our last Speed Family Vacation we’ll ever take with Braden was to Destin, Florida in the summer of 2018.  His last summer trip before life got real and plans began forming to move to the dreaded, “Adult Phase”.  Sadly, his heart was not totally in it and he often chose to stay in the condo rather than joining us on the beach or parasailing. Still, we wanted so much to cheer him up and to bank happy memories before his senior year ahead. Lord knows he needed deposits in preparation for the coming year.  Prom.  Graduation.  College prep/ planning.  Life…

After a few days in Florida, as we returned towards our home in north Texas, a thought struck me that maybe he’d like a surprise side trip to see New Orleans. That would be fun.  I joked that the steering wheel just kept fighting me and veering south. Honestly, looking back, it was me not wanting to return home where he would spend too much time in his room, feeling alone and sad.

Have you ever been on a vacation where it’s an all-out effort to make fun happen but one of the party is absolutely miserable? It might be your spouse (Cathy, that was not a reference to us…).  It may even be an invited friend.  I’ve not read any studies to support this theory, but my bet is that often that misery maker is a teenager.  I was one myself for five years and my parents would attest to this fact.

We settled into the hotel and decided to stroll the French quarter to see the “other side”.  You know, “Let them see how bad some people have it so they can really appreciate what THEY have”.  I’m probably the only one who’s done this.   It was really disgusting, especially during a hot June day on Bourbon Street.  We all agreed, they needed to take a big tanker of bleach and scrub that part of the city with a giant Brillo pad.  Cathy and I soon realized this had been a bad idea and I tried to navigate everyone towards the river front and Jackson Square. Still not great, but hopefully better than this!

As we veered to a hopefully safer place, we passed a young man sitting against a wall at the Famous Door Lounge [please don’t judge, we’d already realized this area had been a bad idea].   I guess him to have been maybe 18 years of age.  This young man was obviously homeless and clearly in a very dark and isolated place. Honestly, I thought little of it.  After all this was Bourbon Street, which they must have modeled after the downtown district of the Biblical cities of  Sodom and Gomorrah.  After we’d walked about two blocks past the stranger,  Braden, who was dragging behind, yelled, “I have to go back!” Being my selfish thoughtless self, I returned the yell, “Why? No!  We are not going back. We’re leaving now, c’mon, speed up!”

Let’s just say this was one of those memory deposit opportunities which quickly became a significant withdrawal for the whole family. I’m not proud but I am at least truthful. Braden was beside himself with sadness already, and I had pulled the plug on any remaining chance for “fun” this vacation. Cathy spent some thirty minutes talking with Braden as I impatiently paced and muttered. I mean after all, we needed to get on with having fun because the clock was ticking!

I later came to learn that Braden had seen the deep sadness in the young stranger I had so casually dismissed just minutes before. He’d felt the need to talk with the boy, to give him some sign of hope. You see, when you have experienced pain and loneliness, you can see it in others immediately. You have a “radar” for them.  Cathy and Braden did go back to find the young man. When they got there to give him all the cash in our pockets, the boy was gone.  He had left his belongings on the sidewalk, but as they placed the money into the notebook he left open on the sidewalk, Cathy glimpsed some of his writings.  “Even though life seems to hold no hope for my future, I can’t let myself give up”. They knew they had done the right thing as they hid the money in his book and prayed over him, before returning to find me.

I will forever regret not turning around and listening to my son’s heart, and changing our route from what I wanted into what he knew he needed to do. That was to help a fellow suffering human being.  From Braden’s perspective, even if coming into that person’s world was brief , he wanted to believe it could make a difference. Even if a very small one.

Last week, I joined a group of local educators in Provo, Utah observing youth from elementary, middle, and high schools who have implemented a program called “Hope Squad” on their local campuses to educate kids on how to be “radars” for signs of depression and personal crisis in their peers.  These kids are trained in how to be a safe and trusted place for others. Where they can feel comfortable coming into their dark world. They are then able to help navigate in a lost place.  Basically, to find support, care, and to know they are valued.

This isn’t just another “Flavor of the Day” program.  Over a 15 year span, schools that have implemented the Hope Squad model have taken suicide statistics to almost zero.  You really can’t argue with results like these.

Observing our school leaders and teachers attentively learning and asking questions about how to  bring this program into our local community moved me profoundly.  That’s an understatement.  I wept more these last few days than I have in several weeks.  Perhaps, if we’d had this in place before October 30, 2018 our son could have been walked out of his darkness by a caring peer.  We can’t look back, but I certainly have been.  My new friend, Wendy Tyler was there to make her own son, Christian Tyler’s death somehow purposeful as well.  Wendy and I came to know each other November 3, 2018.

Only four days after Braden’s death. Wendy led the “Prosper Out of the Darkness Walk” the morning of Braden’s funeral.  I was in a complete fog that day but something compelled me to have friends and family join me to walk for our son.  It was important.  I still really don’t remember much about that day nor how I was able to actually put one foot in front of the other, but I do know the Holy Spirit took each step for me. In faith. (see “Surrender” post).

Wendy is an educator but she was there primarily as an observing parent who experienced the loss of her son, wanting his life to make a difference in the lives of other teens and their families.  Her son, Christian had an amazing gift of humor.  He and his friend put together a short video that had over 12,000 hits called Sold Out.  She shared Christian’s video with me and I had a much needed laugh. What a talent!  His and our son’s lives continue to make a difference months and years later.

Our two boys were what I consider to be soldiers fighting a real battle in this world.  But they weren’t the only ones in the war.  Every day, we all pass by them somewhere.  They’re in every school.  Every church. They are working beside us at our workplace. They’re possibly even in our homes. They’re on every corner, but we must be looking.

Trust me.  When we find them and if we step into their life, our culture will change from selfish to selfless.

What Can We do?

Parents: (Ok… Dads); take a lesson from a dad who lost his son.  A dad who was more driven to keep on a plan and to “make” a memory.  Slow down.  Stop pushing.  Remember, your kids are the ones who determine what they consider to be memory makers.  If they think stopping to pray for a stranger on a street corner is more of a memory than going to point at a statue for a picture, give them consideration.  They may put memory deposits in YOUR heart bank.

Teachers and Educational Institutions:  If you want to truly make an impact on the current rate of depression and suicide, I strongly encourage you to explore “Hope Squad”.  We have included a link on the Resource page.  I don’t sell anything I wouldn’t buy and this is a tried and true model for school culture change.  If interested, contact us or go to the Contact Us link on the Hope Squad site.  If you would like to discuss with myself or Wendy Tyler, drop an email to mspeeed777@yahoo.com.

Church Ministers: We have talked with so many people who face uncertainty about this sensitive topic.  We challenge you to face the ugly reality and to speak into it rather than allowing the topic to be swept under a rug.  Your 21st century congregation is very keen and perceptive. They need your leadership and clarity on this topic.

Face it.  Kids are dying from self choice and the epidemic is real.  Ask yourself:  Am I uneasy about the topic of suicide?  What am I doing as a shepherd to my flock in speaking and guiding in this treacherous area of their lives? Do I understand and do I lead on this topic from a scriptural perspective?

Readers:  It’s been almost a month without writing.  When I began this blog, I promised it would only be updated if/when I felt clearly compelled by the Holy Spirit to whom I surrendered the night of October 30, 2018.  I have heard and read from readers who have encouraged us to post more frequently and that is certainly my desire as well.  However, I have to stay true to my commitment.  That is to follow His direction, period.  You can trust that when I write, it’s only my hands, but God’s words. Please send any specific prayer requests and I commit we will pray over them as a family.

Our prayer: Lord.  You amaze us beyond any written or spoken words.  Thank you for those you bring into our lives.  They have lifted us up and also trained us up during a very dark time.  Thank you for bringing sight in our blindness.  We pray over every reader and every family facing a similar path.  We ask that you provide them comfort, wisdom, and peace beyond any understanding they could fathom.

Help us also to open our blind eyes to others who need us desperately to see them and to come into their lives as lights in a dark world.  We know the lost and lonely are on every corner.  Let us find them and walk with them out of the darkness.  In your Holy Name, amen.

“There’s an insane person yelling at the top of his lungs at 3:30am!” – Neighbor: Oct. 31

“LORD, I CAN’T MOVE! I CAN’T SPEAK.! I CAN’T EVEN BREATHE! What do you want me to do with this!?” – Braden’s dad: Oct. 31 5:30am

“God simply wants you to give up and allow Him to use you.  He loves you and I love you, Dad… see you soon.” – Braden

With two kids who I helped bring into the world, I’m constantly thinking about my own youth, in perspective with theirs. Mine had it’s trials but for today’s teens, it’s extraordinarily difficult. Not sure I could do it. As an adult, I roll out of bed every so often and think, “Why? How long can I do this?”  It’s interesting and somehow comforting to know most humans, if they were honest, think this from time to time.

We all face the drudgery of the daily grind, schedules, demands, and “stuff” in our daily lives. It often feels like we’re fighting an unending battle.  I’ll be honest and admit I feel that way.  Not always, but sometimes.   I certainly know that’s the way our son, Braden felt much of his life.  We sincerely believe he would have been a mighty warrior for God’s Kingdom, an overcomer.  Sadly, he became a fallen warrior, far too early.

Think about this. When do armies decide to give up and surrender to the enemy? Soldiers and their leaders exhaust every human effort feasible. They use brilliant strategies, military tools, and battle tactics. Too often they even lay down their their own lives for the sake of success.

But when do they decide to surrender?  I submit that it’s only when they finally come to the realization they are simply defeated, and there is no other option but to quit.

That’s where I was at 5:30am October 31, 2018.

Throughout the night I sat on the stoop outside Braden’s room just so I could feel like I was there with him somehow. I felt he shouldn’t be alone while complete strangers worked in his room upstairs.  He was gone, but still it was important as his dad to be there.  Isn’t that what dads do?

I literally have never heard sounds emit from my mouth as they did throughout those eight hours sitting in the dark.  I yelled at God in anger. I yelled at the kids I never met, who we had prayed would come into his life. I screamed at the teachers and the schools I felt had failed him.  And I yelled at myself.

More tears were shed in those few hours than all my years combined. When I finally ran out of tears for a moment and as the dawn was just beginning to break, I took a deep breath. I was completely exhausted in every way.  Then… immediately rain began to gently sprinkle on my head. The timing was like a thing out of a fictional story but it was real. I’d run out of tears and Heaven had taken over.

I distinctly recall saying aloud, “God…what do you want me to do with this?”  Then I released all my muscles and fell into a fetal position saying, “I give up.  I surrender.  I know I’ve told you that before, but I literally can’t move another muscle or even continue to breathe unless You do it for me.  I want to hand over control of this weak and flawed vessel.  Use my brain to think and my legs to walk. Use my heart to feel and my voice to speak.  You made me so you’re probably better suited to effectively use me.”  Then, the sprinkles turned into rain.  It rained all day long that Halloween day. It was a gentle yet steady downpour.

I had finally surrendered.

Growing up, we attended church regularly.  First Baptist Church of Brownfield.  We had the old hymnals and they were worn thoroughly. The songs were traditional, unlike today. Being a typical boy, I wouldn’t sing. But I listened.  I recall the hymn, “I Surrender All”.  Back then, it was just another old hymn with too many verses.  Not anymore.

Like many of those hymns, they have come to mean much more to me now, having fought the battles of life for some time.  I realize God speaks through a variety of mediums.  Hymns are just one.  Now, He also speaks through me, however only when I truly surrender ALL of myself to His Will.

Parents, Ministers, and other Warriors

Here is where we usually try to share some insight so readers  might have some tools, action plans, or strategies. Something perhaps to impact the world where they do battle.  Folks, I don’t really have any better strategy at this point but to offer my honest testimony and encourage you to surrender if you haven’t already.

Throw in the towel.  Give up.  You simply can’t win.  We can’t impact depression and suicide in our own power.  Believe me, if we could put that in a bottle or a pill, it would have already been done long ago, and it would cost more than anyone could afford.

Ironically, the only solution is free and only needs to be requested.   I’ve come to clarity that the one and only way to win our earthly battle is to give up and surrender control to our Creator.  I hope parents and churches will come together to bring God’s children to this conclusion sooner rather than later.

All to Jesus I surrender.  All to Him I freely give.  I will ever love and trust Him, in His presence daily live. 

All to Jesus I surrender. Humbly at His feet I bow. Worldly pleasures all forsaken.

Take me, Jesus, take me now, I surrender all.  I surrender all. All to Thee my blessed Savior.

I surrender all.

Prayer: Lord, we pray as we have since first we began writing over every person who reads these imperfect words inspired through your Holy Spirit.  We pray for those who are feeling defeated to surrender not to the enemy, but rather to their Creator.  Re-Create in us all a life worth living in abundance of your presence and assurance.  We also pray over every fallen warrior in this earthly battle and for those left behind to move forward one day at a time. Thank you for taking over my life and I ask that You keep me out of my own way that You may be eternally glorified.  Amen.

“Dad, whenever you get a chance, please tell people some things I couldn’t say.”  – Braden

“I promise, son.”- Braden’s Dad

“Why hasn’t someone begun openly talking about this before now? – Braden’s parents

Following the loss of our son, Braden on October 30, we have decided as a family to do what we can to help avoid the loss of other kids. We have chosen to be agents for drastically overdue culture change in our schools for the sake of other families dealing with a similar story.

Since 2010 or so, the rate of teen depression and suicide has increased by around 70%.  Studies show this increase to correlate with the availability and use of technology. More specifically, social media.  Kids are no longer talking with each other and learning the skills they need to begin and to building relationships.  We are devastated, having lost our son and are left with the question: With such an epidemic going on in our world, why hasn’t someone begun talking about this more openly?

Some years ago, I was a high school teen growing up in the west Texas cotton fields of Brownfield. It’s funny. When I meet people they ask where I’m “From”. I always proudly reply, “Brownfield, Texas”. However, frequently my hometown’s name is mis-heard as “Brownwood” or more often, “Brownsville”.

Neither of these two Texas towns remotely resemble Brownfield.  You see, Brownfield was just that, a very brown field of dirt and cotton. Although it was not overly pleasing to the eye aesthetically, to me it was an amazing daily adventure as a farm kid. In my mind, it was the best place in the world and if you didn’t grow up there, you were just disadvantaged.

Although this small Texas town could best be described as Mayberry from the old Andy Griffith Show, the culture my generation faced there as a teen was still tough. Depending upon who and where you were as a kid in that “perfect little world”, it was still hard to navigate. There was selfishness. There were the Popular kids and there were the Unpopular. We had the Invited and the Uninvited.  Nothing novel about that.

Although Brownfield was similar to today’s teen experience, 2019 is exponentially different.

Today, the identity of kids chosen to be placed within each social group isn’t left to be internalized but rather broadly announced to hundreds or perhaps thousands. It’s done through the innovation Silicon Valley has created, packaged and sold as “Social Media“.

Since age 15, my youth minister at First Baptist Brownfield still remains my friend.  Ron Hill recently invited me to speak at the Fellowship of San Antonio on this very sensitive topic of depression and suicide.

This went way outside my personal comfort zone. Still, I felt committed to speak on behalf of our son for those he would have wanted to hear these things. Sadly, he didn’t get the chance to do it himself.

We hope you’ll listen to the message.  It’s very important. Also, please share if you know someone who may be trying to navigate a similar path.

Braden’s Voice Interview

What Can We Do?

Focus on teaching our kids how they should go. Don’t just send them to school or to church, but charge them with a simple mission. “Find someone today who needs you, make the small effort to make them feel important/ valued”.  Ask them to go some place, even if it’s just to the couch they sit on, playing video games.  Make and keep room for them. You will be amazed at what value and purpose that person may bring into your own life.

Praying for Readers

Lord, please bless readers of this blog and their families with your presence, peace, and purpose. We need You and our kids to place their purpose and identity in You alone.

Let our purpose and our identity be in You, even though it will certainly feel uncomfortable.

“Why would anyone want an app where the message disappears?”  – Braden’s Dad

“You don’t understand. Everyone’s on SnapChat and I have thousands of friends. Still, I feel alone.” – Braden 

“You’re family is not alone. You are never forgotten”.                                            – Letter from a Prosper family

January 9, 2019.  Christmas is officially over. Our first season has ended without our son and Caitlin’s big brother. This year, we went all-out with family traditions.  This is nothing new for us, but this year it was much more important.  Traditions gave us the sense that Braden was still with us in spirit, that he was still close. We will never forget him. Traditions are how we find comfort in the familiar. I’m confident our family will keep these traditions for the rest of our lives.

Caitlin said it best: “We are still a family of four.  We’re just a party of three”.

Sometimes kids do have a way with words.

Gone in a Snap

Caitlin was born with Plannerosis [plãn-er-rose-iš], a rare and chronic condition.  It can be genetic, because her dad suffers with it too.  These people require a checklist and they need to plan every detail of important events.  It can be difficult to accept for people who don’t have this annoying efficient and useful condition.

Caitlin’s Plannerossis flares up during the Christmas season.  For her Christmas Eve birthday celebration our family annually follows this checklist to the letter:

TO-DO:  Family photo;  Cracker Barrel for breakfast; Family picture in front of mall tree; Ice skating;  Cookies at Nestlé Toll House Cafe; Whataburger for lunch; Christmas movies and popcorn;  NORAD Santa tracker; NORAD Santa Tracker; more NORAD Santa Tracker; Bedtime for Santa to arrive; and finally, my secret tradition includes taking four Ibuprofen and a hot bath to recover from my own ice skating condition.

That morning while waiting at the Cracker Barrel to be seated, I spotted a Dillon Caramel Candy bar and thought it would be funny to send a picture of it to one of Braden’s true best friends, Dylan.  He lives across the state, but knowing he was on SnapChat, I sent him the picture as a “Snap”.  (On SnapChat, messages disappear immediately after being read).

…Dylan. If you’re reading this, please know how much our family misses you and your family….  Also, we have finally forgiven you guys for for taking our house! …

We had breakfast and made our way to the next item on the list: skating.   While parking the car, I noticed Dylan had replied with a heartfelt message. He wrote that he still misses Braden and even reads our blogs to feel closer to our son.  His brief note meant the world to me.  In just a few words, it comforted me. I instantly felt closer to Dylan and to Braden.  I responded and assured him Braden is happier than he’s ever been and although we here are very sad, we’ll get the chance to see him again.

When we finished skating and returned to the car, I wanted to share Dylan’s note with my girls. I just knew it would comfort them too.   I accessed SnapChat and searched friend activity.  Then I clicked on “Notifications,” only to find the note had vanished!

NO! That note was far too important to lose.  I needed to keep it and share it with my family.  I needed to have it to re-read over and over again.  But, it was gone.

Letters Worth Keeping

Following our loss on October 30, 2018 we’ve had many families and individuals, churches, and neighbors reach into our life.  We’ve been deeply touched and felt surrounded by others who sincerely care and want to walk with us through this.   We’ve received cards, notes, texts, emails, and letters.  Each one will remain in our physical possession, but more importantly within our hearts.

We received one letter from a mother who didn’t know us.  She was so deeply moved to hear of yet another teen lost, she sat in her car praying at 5:30am two days after it happened. She wrote a prayer.  It began, “Man down… Man down”.  It spoke about how God’s warriors are being attacked and taken out; especially those with great potential to fight the spiritual warfare in this world.

The second letter was from a family we’ve still never met.  Their family drops coins in a jar throughout the year and determines at Christmas time what family needs their prayers.  This year they chose us.  They secretly placed their coin jar and a personal letter on our doorstep on Christmas Day.

This year, Caitlin worked for hours and hours in her room on the gift she wanted to give her mom and dad.  Cathy and I wondered what in the world she could give us that would take that amount of time and effort?   It was two jars, each filled with 365 sticky notes.  One  note for each day of the year to open and to be encouraged, loved, to laugh, and to read God’s Words.  We think the time she spent was more than worth it.

We will keep each and every single sticky note, card, and letter.  Our family will always treasure the care from our community and the sincere the heartfelt prayers penned by people, some of whom we never will meet.   In fact, re-reading these letters will become another one of our annual Christmas traditions.

So what? 

Might we all benefit from being “letter writers” in our relationships by investing the time and effort to go deeper, to slow down, and to know each other below the surface? We miss too many chances to leave others feeling they are important and to leave them with something that will last. Ourselves.

Teachers:  What can we do?

• Look for “Bradens” every day in your school.
• Watch A Teacher’s Action Plan to”Make” a Difference

STUDENTS:  What can you do?  You make the real difference here.

Let’s face it. Change ONLY occurs when individuals not only realize it is needed, but are willing to pro-actively make that change become a reality.

A group of students at Prosper High School I call Team BradensVoice have been courageous in reaching outside their “comfort zones”, each wanting to help make a real impact on teen suicide, depression, and culture change in your school.

We are amazed at their courage and conviction. These young people have given us tremendous encouragement.  We are confident, through the Holy Spirit’s guidance they will find the hope and be agents for needed change. Please support them and consider becoming part of their effort.

Remember to Invite and Stay.  Don’t ever allow others to feel forgotten.

Prayer for readers and families:

Lord, help us to all be more intentional about finding and reaching into the lives of others. Teach us to slow down, to include, and to stay as You modeled for us, without selfish expectations.

In an invisible yet too real World War, your  soldiers are being attacked. We are losing some every day.  Please raise up many more warriors for every single one we’ve lost in battle.

Not our typical format, but this news story does a good job of capturing the purpose of our blog.

Thanks to Dallas ABC News affiliate and specifically reporter, Jobin Panicker for airing this story.

Please share with those who have interest in a very important, but too long hidden subject.

More to come…

Link to ABC news article

“Kids at school were nice in class, but none of them ever took the time to get to know me.  I also hate how I look.  I look too young for my age and that affects how they see me”.
– Braden

“I’m so sad that they missed out on who you really were.  Those who took the time to actually know you became loyal, true friends for life, and saw what an amazing guy you were. People get busy looking at their phones and too often they miss out on real relationships.” – Braden’s Mom

By Cathy Speed

A few weeks ago, Caitlin and I went to a mother/ daughter Christmas party, which ended with a wild and crazy white elephant gift exchange.  As people began choosing presents, they so often reached for the most beautiful packages, the shiniest wrapping. Yet we found some of the very best gifts had been wrapped in plain brown paper. Continue reading “Inside Out” →

“If I could get one perfect gift this Christmas, it would be God bringing me my baby sister.” – Braden;  December 23, 2006

“Braden. I have good news and I have bad news.  The bad news is Santa will need to postpone his delivery a couple of days.  The good news is, you got your perfect Christmas gift this morning.” – Braden’s dad;  December 24, 2006

Christmas is almost here!  Well, not exactly.  To be precise, it’s six days; 15 hours; 52 minutes; and 42 seconds away.  I know this because Braden’s sister, Caitlin informs us of the update on an hourly basis.  She has an app from the Norad Santa Tracker online site and she watches it like a starving hawk.

Reader:  Please indulge me for a little “Night Before Christmas” story

Caitlin was a tough pregnancy to say the least.  We tried unsuccessfully for six years, losing three pregnancies, always wanting a second child and sibling for Braden. He yearned for a sister or brother.  Running out of options, we finally bought a dog… then, Boom! We got pregnant. However, Cathy had “HD” : Hyperemesis Gravidarum.  This is basically unrelenting nausea. It’s so bad, it puts the mother in bed for weeks or months and can be life threatening.  This wasn’t what we tried six years to get!

Our family was planning to get through the holidays and we scheduled delivery around the second week of January.  How convenient. On December 23rd, we went ice skating and that night, we all three went to bed with visions of sugar plum fairies dancing in our heads. Well, maybe not me.  I was actually thinking how sore I was. You see, annually around this season, I suffer from “AASS”: Advanced Age Skating Syndrome which is basically feeling like you should never EVER skate again.

Around 2:15 am Cathy woke me with a clatter (ok, I got going with the theme, so just stay with me).  “Mark, I don’t know why,  but I woke up and just think I need to go to the hospital”.  I asked if she felt any contractions or pain but she had none.  Just a “feeling” she should go. I trusted her intuition and she drove herself immediately while I called our on-call babysitter Louise, to come stay with Braden. I then sped (over 100mph) to the hospital.  The monitors found a heartbeat but it was faint.  We delivered within minutes of admission.  Caitlin Grace Speed had entered the world. Pre-mature, but right on time.

Folks, had Cathy not woken and sensed the need to go in, the delivering doctor later told us Caitlin would not have lived to see the sunrise. God, thank You for answering my prayer that morning while speeding down Grand Parkway.  I promised You that I’d tell everyone I could, if You would just let us have our daughter.  This was a very real miracle and only one of many to follow.

As dawn began to break and Caitlin was safe in her warmer, I had the awesome privilege to return home and deliver the good news to Braden. He was just waking as I arrived.  I remember still how I presented the news. “Buddy, I have good news and I have bad news.  The bad news is Santa will need to postpone his delivery a couple of days.  The good news is, you got your perfect Christmas gift this morning.”

In the animated kids movie, “The Incredibles”, the family has a little boy named Dash who runs so lightening fast, he suddenly disappears and then instantly re-appears at his destination.  Braden got in my car just a fraction of a second slower than that.  He got to hold Caitlin and couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

This Christmas story doesn’t have the traditional ending. Braden never once asked when Santa would come.  What other gift could compare with having another kid in his life?  His perfect Christmas gift.

Nice story, but what’s the point? 

Braden deeply needed people. Specifically, kids his age. The most valued gifts are those given out of sincere care for others and without expectation of a return.  We’ve had so many such gifts from those who care dearly about our loss and about the need to make life-changing/ culture changing impact.  In fact, tonight a family we’ve never met texted to invite us to dinner and to meet their family.

They didn’t ask nor would they want something in return.  However, they did get a return. We all did.  We gained new friends and were all made better by their CHOICE to do something outside the comfort zone.  Our kids all witnessed it and received a gift of modeled relationship MAKING. Our family most certainly felt cared for and valued.

Readers: What can we do to reduce the epidemic of depression? 

Teach your kids specific and ongoing behaviors to make another kid feel important.

Today, I asked my standard question of Caitlin.  “Did you find him?”  (code phrase for finding a person to reach into and act).  “Yes, I did!  Her name is….. and she was at a table by herself.  I told my friends, ‘Let’s ask her to sit with us’.  She was really shy but we kept trying to talk with her even though it was hard. I think it made her feel good and it made us feel good too”.

Tonight, when that child goes home and her mom asks how the day went, she’ll talk about a girl named Caitlin who invited her and stayed.  I expect the parents will sleep good tonight as will their little girl.

                        Braden’s Birthday Poem and Gift to Caitlin

My Little One, my Christmas gift;

God sent you here to give us lift.

Into our lives you’ve come and stayed;

By being mine such joy you made.

If I could gift you in return,

I’d give you just one thing I’ve learned.

Your purpose my little gift?

To live for Christ and give Him lift.

_______________________________

Prayer for all readers and your families:    Lord, please make us all givers of gifts with a No Return policy, just like you did in giving us your sweet baby boy, Jesus.  We want to live as He did by inviting and staying.

“Thanks for the reminder, son.  By the way, we sure do miss you!” – Braden’s Family

Today I feel led to share a post that is over due about clarity in our family’s purpose after the loss of our son. Specifically, it is about how our messages posted in this blog are derived.   That is to say, the “Search Engine” we are using: The Holy Spirit.

Although the blog is called, “Braden’s Voice”, I don’t serve my role nor our family’s commitment properly without clarifying that the words you’re reading come from Christ, through his Holy Spirit. I’m simply the typist.

At 5:30AM on October 31, 2018 I ran out of tears for a brief moment.  I said aloud (VERY aloud…. actually yelling), “Braden, what do you want me to do with this?” The answer didn’t come from Braden though. He was already enjoying the presence of God, far too busy being joyous to bother with the sadness of this world.  The response clearly came from God. In that moment, I confessed having never totally surrendered to God’s will in my life, but that this loss finally broke me.  Since I was completely incapacitated, I would grant God full access to the body He had created for His purpose rather than my own.

To me, “Surrender” means before stepping forward, backward, or side-ways, my family will search His direction FIRST.  Then we will just do what we are told.

Through sharing openly, our prayer is for lives to be saved. Much more importantly we pray for lives to be MADE worth living in Jesus with a personal relationship which we should all strive for with one another:

Prayer:  God, we ask that you bless each reader, their families, and every shepherd looking for lost sheep.

“Dad, I  needed more than people who fist-bumped me passing in the hall and moving on.  I needed kids my age who cared… really cared.” – Braden Speed

“Today, I found a girl sitting at lunch alone.  I asked her if she’d like to sit with me, but she was on silent lunch for punishment.  At least she knew she was invited”. – Caitlin Speed

“IT IS OUR FAMILY’S MISSION to always look for the “Braden’s” and HUG, smile, help, invite, and love that hurt away” – Family of Prosper High student

My twin brother, Mike came from Lubbock this week for a visit and to spend some guy time together. He and I look very similar.  In fact, as we’ve grown older and our hair has thinned we look more alike than ever.

Although we share a lot in common, we’re very different.  Mike’s a “Barbecue Guy”.  Barbecue guys come in two varieties: The “Mark” barbecue guy has one grill.  This one cooks burgers and an occasional holiday turkey. Mark’s barbecue is usually somewhat edible.

Then there is the “Mike” barbecue guy, with five types of grills in the backyard (true story).  This variety smokes briskets by the dozen, smoked sausages, chicken, and pulled pork, winning Grill Master contests.  Mike recently began selling his barbecue and is setting up a website!

This weekend, we hung out while he smoked pulled pork on my pitiful little grill.  We spent a lot of time together, getting “real” about life, family, and faith.  He shared a couple of stories which stood out to me.  One was about how he’d recently reached across his street to a neighbor he’d never known.  Her car wouldn’t start and she needed to get her kids to school.  He talked about how much one simple act of kindness (offering to loan his car) quickly turned them from surface neighbors to a more meaningful relationship.

I shared with him numerous stories our family has experienced (too many to count) through neighbors we had never known before we lost our son in October.

Throughout his visit, I felt our connection growing so much closer than when he first arrived.

Although Mike and I are arguably closer than most guys as twins, we’ve never been “huggers”.  We ended our first night together watching a movie and continuing to talk.  When we headed down the stairs to bed, I expected the usual “Night, Bud”.  Instead, I put my arm around him and pulled him in for a tight hug.  A real one.

Too often, people go with the fist-bump, the “Night, Bud”, passing each other as they hurry about with their busy lives.  Too rarely do we slow down, opening ourselves to others, coming into their lives in a real person-to-person relational level and stay the course.

Mike headed home this afternoon.  However, when he left it was only temporary. We’ll be together again.  He hadn’t really left.  He never will.  That is my definition of a hug.

Parents and teachers:

If you aren’t a hugger by nature, think about trying it. It might surprise you what it does for the hugged and the hugger.  Rather than a quick pat on the back or fist-bump, hold the person a little tighter… stay a second longer.   It will mean something to them.  Let others see, especially your kids.

Yes, tell them to be nice.  But if we truly do want to impact the depression in our society, we must go FURTHER by finding others to reach out to physically or better yet, reach INTO them. And STAY.

.

“What’s going on with my e-mail account?” – Braden’s Dad

“It could be that I have something people need to hear.” – Braden Speed

“Daddy, today I helped a boy at school. I let him know I cared.” – Braden’s sister

The response to our first blog was astounding. Sharing from our hearts in transparency apparently struck some kind of common chord.

I’m an organizer of things. Maybe a bit OCD, although I don’t go so far as to label my socks “L” and “R”. On the other hand, don’t open our bedroom closet door because it isn’t pretty.

When it comes to managing email, I take pride in never having more than ten in my intray. After the initial blog, “Dream Nightmare” posted, I went to the gym. We got some groceries and I ran by the post office. A few hours later we got home and I pulled out my phone to check the calendar. The email app showed 66 notifications. What?? “Dang it. Setting up that WordPress blog account must have sold my email address to scammers and robot junk e-mailers.

But when I checked the emails to delete them and to set up a new address, I found hundreds of notes from individuals whom we have never met who were touched by our story. How amazing the internet can be.

We have mixed feelings about this anomaly. Such a heightened level of interest confirms there is, in fact a clear message in what Braden had to say. His message resonates because it is truth; it is heartfelt, and yet it is so elementary in its simplicity. It’s also consoling to our souls to find others walking a similar path.

However, it’s ironic and concerning that a story about teen depression and suicide is no longer a depressing blog no one wants to read, but just the opposite. People are thirsting for transparency because they have a private story of their own and they want to know how to navigate their way.

Readers

There isn’t a checklist to ensure you won’t experience our nightmare. If there were, we could eradicate the suicide epidemic immediately.  After all, we’re checklist people, right?  Wouldn’t that be efficient. I can’t truthfully say we have the answers. However, we have identified a couple of big pieces in this thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle of teen culture.

All I have to offer here is what our sweet and very special son, Braden would tell me if he were here, that would have kept him alive one more minute, a day, a week, or a year… a lifetime?

That was:  “True Purpose and just one real and loyal caring friend at school would have sustained me” 

Parents: What can We Do!?

In our home, we now pack a lunch and have breakfast at our counter bar.  We say a really simple and quick prayer, most times on the run. The prayer is fast and often a little humorous. Nothing wordy or fancy. It just comes from the soul. And each day we have begun charging Caitlin to find one person that day in school to reach through the thin invisible “Comfort Zone” and to touch another kid’s life. I then ask at day’s end who she found and their name. That’s important. It’s a fun but purposeful way to teach about being Christ-like. She then goes out the door with a “mission”.

Yesterday, I asked and she said a little boy was in his wheelchair and couldn’t get the switch to operate so he was embarrassed. She asked if she could help and he nodded. She was able to jiggle it and get it to work. Then she said, “Hope ya have a great day”.

Results:

I asked how Caitlin felt that made him feel?  She replied, “Good”.

I then asked, how did YOU feel by doing that?:   “I felt really good”.

Last question: “Why?”

Her response “I helped someone to know they had a person in the world who cared”.

Reader:  Know that I am one who wants to respond to every personal note because we are intimately virtual friends sharing a similar experience. Please know that’s just who I am.

However, please also understand I’m a husband to Cathy and a daddy to Caitlin. I read each and every note and often read them aloud to my family. We are all being comforted by your prayers and personal stories. If I don’t respond I trust you understand.

With the complete trust and reliance on the Holy Sprit, Braden’s Voice is being heard.

Bless you and please remember to bless those who need you.