Content Warning: This post talks about suicide. Although no details are given please be mindful of this and don’t read on if this is something that might be triggering for you!

Have you ever had someone say to you, “It’s clearly not your time,” after a suicide attempt? If you have, you probably know how cliche it sounds. Those words can feel empty, as though they’re meant to close a conversation rather than open one. Yet, as much as I’ve resisted the phrase, I can’t deny the weight it holds in my own life. After surviving multiple attempts to die – despite every intention to leave this world – I’ve been forced to confront the possibility that those words might carry a truth I hadn’t been willing to see.

I’ve tried. Many times. In moments of despair, I’ve done everything within my power to end the pain. And every single time, something has stopped in from happening. Maybe it was an intervention of a friend, the police or hospital staff, or a twist of fate that kept me alive. Maybe it was sheer luck, or as I’ve come to consider more and more, maybe it was because it wasn’t part of the plan that God has for my life.

The idea that survival is part of a greater plan is as difficult to accept as it is to dismiss. If I believe that God has a purpose for my life – and some part of me does – then surviving when I was ready to die suggests that my story isn’t over yet. If my time had come, wouldn’t I have succeeded? Wouldn’t I finally have found that escape?

But believing in that purpose doesn’t make the pain vanish. If anything, it complicates things. I’ve found myself asking why God would keep me here, struggling, when I was so ready to let go. What possible reason could justify the agony that led me to those moments in the first place? It’s a question I don’t have an answer to – at least, not yet.

If you’re reading this, maybe you’ve asked yourself similar questions. Maybe you’ve also faced moments when death seemed like the only way out. And maybe, like me, you’re still here, unsure of why. Here’s the conclusion I’ve started to reach: survival might not feel like a gift in the moment, but it’s an invitation to keep going. To keep searching. To keep asking what’s next.

When I think about the times I’ve survived, I realise that those moments weren’t random. They were filled with small interventions – a text from a friend, a hug from a family member that I so desperately needed, the police turning up at exactly the right moment to stop me doing something I wouldn’t be able to undo. Those moments weren’t the answers to all my questions, but they were signposts pointing me toward something bigger.

Wrestling with God’s Plan

If you believe, as I do, that God has a plan for each of us, then the idea that “it’s not your time” takes on a heavier, more significant meaning. If God has kept me here through all of this, then it would stand to reason that my time to leave this world is not now – because if it were, I would be gone. Period.

But it’s hard to reconcile the pain and hopelessness that drive someone to attempt suicide with the concept of a loving God who is guiding everything. It can feel cruel. Why keep me here, God, if it hurts this much? Why not let me go when I was so ready, so certain?

I don’t know exactly what God’s plan for me looks like. But I’ve started to think that surviving is part of it. Being here, despite everything, is part of it. And maybe writing this, sharing this, is part of it too.

“It’s still clearly not your time” still sounds cliche to me. It probably always will. But maybe the reason it’s such a persistent phrase is because there’s a deep truth buried in it. If you’ve survived something you didn’t think you could survive, it’s worth considering that there might be a reason for that. Not in a shallow, sugar-coated way, but in a profound, weighty way that calls up to look deeper into our lives and our purpose.

So here I am, still trying to figure it all out. Still asking questions. Still frustrated. But also still here. And if you’re reading this, you’re still here too. Maybe that’s worth something. Maybe that’s worth everything.

‘But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9

All my love,

Anna x