Monthly Archives: November 2009

His Life

Dan’s life is his life.  Dan — my addict son — was arrested early this morning.  My phone rang just after 2AM.  So back to jail he goes.  Now it’s almost 5AM and I’m still up and he hasn’t yet called from jail.  Perhaps he won’t.  Perhaps he is trying to let me rest.  Somehow, he still cares about me beneath the craziness.  I’m sad, but also numb, and also…hopeful.  Because God is greater than drug addiction.  Nothing else to say right now.

A Life with God

Here it is … a life with God.  If days are dark and you are living in fear, take a moment to seek the “peace that passes all understanding.”  Yes, there are difficult times in life, but God will make the difficult worthwhile in one way or another.  I am finding my way back to my Path and all the things I’ve been through — even the most painful — will come together for good … as long as I keep my focus on my Creator and remember my identity in Christ! 


Siddique Memon's

I Choose Happiness

Thanks to Siddique Memon for this image.  I took it from facebook.  I think it’s beautiful!

Change Your Mind

I have been feeding fear, but no more!  I am reclaiming my Spiritual Inheritance.  Please join me. 

In Christian-speak, living in fear is “sin” — meaning you cannot live in fear and experience your full connection to God at the same time.   A beautiful angel came to me yesterday (in the guise of an office worker) reminded me of this, and prayed for me under completely unexpected circumstances. 

So if you need to “change your mind” like I do, let’s get started!  And remember, the Fruit of the Spirit is: Love, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, and Self-Control.  For these, there is no law (since they themselves become the law).  Choose LOVE!

One Man’s Journey

I realize that my son will emerge from this journey a man … or an angel.  He did not stay in detox, but fled before they finished processing him.  I am now taking Alanon advice and detaching with love.  I will shower, dress, and go to work.  I cannot walk his walk anymore.  His journey is his own. 

One Mom Talks.
One Man Walks.
Only God can knows the story from here.

Tug of Tags

I am happy to see — for the first time, I think — that the size of the “God” tag is larger than the size of the “Heroin” tag on this blog site.  Go God!!

Hope Walking

My son is going back into rehab.  And I have written this poem, tentatively titled:  “Hope Walking.”

Hope Walking
by onemomtalking 

No white wrappings to cover his skin,
No ebony coffin holds him in.
No Devil demands his bloody jowl,
No minions applaud his muddy scowl.
No crucifix hangs above his bed,
No ebony hood drapes over his head.
There is no funeral for the walking dead.

His mother cries where no one hears.
His father sheds dry, weary tears.
His sister hardens her heart too soon.
His brother prays by the earliest moon.
Though angels hover above his bed,
His skin is white, his eyes are red …
Continual grief for the walking dead.

Redemption awaits for the sound of his call,
God mediates both the rise and the fall.
The requests of the blessed sing heavenly songs,
One warm mustard seed, planted deep, rights his wrongs.
With Love as his blanket and Faith as his bread,
His thirst slowly quenched and his hunger soon fed,
There is hope and new life for the walking dead.


Our Hope

In the middle of all of this, my faith has been quiet — strong within me but not without.  It is time for me to begin to speak the truth and release the power of my God:

“But as for me, I will look to the Lord and confident in Him I will keep watch; I will wait with hope and expectancy for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me. Micah 7: 7

Here are Scriptures of Hope:

Will my real son please stand up?

One day he steals from his dad.  The next day he shows up for volunteer work.  The next he is talking suicide, the next detox and rehab, and then he is claiming he can withdraw on his own.  Insanity at work.  A slow destruction.  He is sick with an illness that leads to and feeds on isolation.  How do you have a funeral for the walking dead?

Those Sad Days

Today is one of those sad days.  It was preceded by happy days.  I had stopped writing here for awhile because things were going along fairly smoothly and I was happy to take a break from defining myself as “the mother of an addict.”    But here I am again.

Today my ex husband discovered that there were checks missing from his checkbook.  He called the bank and yes, indeed, my addict son had stolen checks from his dad and written them to himself and cashed them.  Then my ex realized he had a box of checks up in his closet.  He took a look for them and found that one whole set of checks was missing.   He called the bank and closed his account.  It’s a sad day.

My son called and cried when he realized we knew.  There are two of him.  The real one and the addict.  And we see who’s winning.

My prayers are continual.  And I feel like … I feel like my son has died, and yet there can be no funeral.  As if he has been kidnapped maybe; only there is no ransom we can pay to get him back.