In my church – and in many churches – we teach the idea that the way to conquer an evil is to remove it from the darkness and shine the light of Christ in its eyes.
I am saddened by the continued reports saying: “There’s a heroin epidemic in [you name the city, state or metro area].” And yet, I am encouraged that more and more people are sharing this news out loud. We are pulling the curtain aside and shedding light on the evil of heroin and drug addiction.
In my coaching business, I teach about the importance of facing our fears, naming them, and taking back the control that our self-imposed silence had given those fears. We are doing this now. We are speaking up.
I’m feeling prompted to take this further. Every once in awhile I get this intense feeling of wanting to speak out, but I’ve held back – in part because I just wasn’t ready emotionally – in part because I have concern about protecting the privacy of my children. But here I am again, wanting to actively help.
If you were to speak out about your experience as the parent of an addict. Where would you start?
Have you ever wished you could blossom into your beautiful life without first being planted into the cold, dark ground?
Have you ever wished you could blossom into your beautiful life without having to break through the shell that surrounds your heart?
Have you ever wished you could blossom into your beautiful life without having to feel the pain of the push up through the heavy soil? Without suffering? Without ever being so fully human?
Then, accompanied by the disciples,
Jesus left the upstairs room and went as usual to the Mount of Olives.
There he told them,
“Pray that you will not give in to temptation.”
He walked away, about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed,
“Father, if you are willing,
please take this cup of suffering away from me.
Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”
Then an angel from heaven appeared and strengthened him.
He prayed more fervently, and he was in such agony of spirit
that his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood.
The opportunity has arised. Dan’s dad bonded him out of jail yesterday after getting a call from a local, highly reputable nonprofit organization that has a long-term rehab program. They had a bed available for this morning. So Dad got Dan out of jail. Watched over him for 24 hours. And took him in this morning.
I am hopeful. I am fearful but I push the fear aside and I am hopeful. The minimum stay in this program is 18 months. I think the maximum is three years. They serve addicts, alcoholics and the chronic homeless. It is a Biblically based program. They give rehab, counseling, education and work. They help the client work their way back into the community. And if Dan successfully completes the program and graduates, they will provide a health and dental insurance plan for the rest of his life (when he needs it), and they will give him a car. Wow. Seems too good.
This morning Dan stopped by. My mother is visiting from the East Coast and they had a nice talk. I gave him a big hug, told him I believe in him, and then I broke down. Couldn’t help it. The tears just flowed.
His dad took him to the store for a few things, drove to the center, and dropped him off. I will go to see him once or twice before the move. And, of course, pray … long and hard.
One day at a time. As always. Keeping it simple. Typing it here. Giving it to God.
Some of you have been living with this already, I know. Last night Dan’s dad had to let him go to the streets. We discovered he has taken things from our homes to pawn to get drug money. We drew that boundary awhile ago — steal from us and you’re out. So he’s out. I guess I can be thankful the snow is gone and we’re having warm weather. Last time we kicked him out he lived in his car. But now he has no car…and no phone. So he’s out there somewhere. Takin’ it to the streets.
p.s. This Sunday, Easter Day, will be one year since that first phone call from the police — the first time I heard the word “heroin” in connection to my boy. Interesting timing.
Prayers to all. And much love. And God’s blessings in whatever form they need to take to let you know that we are not alone. XOXO
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!
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: http://www.heavensinspirations.com/word-hope.html
Dan came home yesterday. I am happy to have him here. He is, right now, excited about staying with his program. He has an added incentive — staying out of jail. He has felony drug-related charges pending which will likely be deferred if he stays clean. But I believe he wants to do it for himself, and to help some of the other young people in this area–set a good example.
But the original Prodigal Son had a brother, didn’t he? And that brother wasn’t thrilled that dad killed the calf and had a celebration upon the brother’s return. Well, this son has a sister, Cathy, who is so angry about her brother coming home. She does not admit fear (fear that her brother will relapse and, sooner than later, kill himself with that needle). But she does confess anger and a real and growing doubt about God’s existence, or at least about God’s goodness. She asked me some tough questions. And my answers, which usually make sense to adults, did not do much for Catherine.
I have suggested Alateen; she refuses to go. She doesn’t see why she should have to make any effort to find a solution to something that she did not start. So she’s holding on to her anger right now, like an anchor. A heavy anchor.
Is there anyone out there who can give me info about Alateen and how to get this lovely, stubborn 15 y.o. to go? Any suggestions about how to talk to her about God in the midst of trouble? I’ve been a leader of adults in their search for faith, but I’m floundering with my own daughter!