He called me in tears, “where do I go… what do I do. I have nowhere to go”
After nearly 60 days of recovery my son had to leave the Halfway House he is in due to breaking the rules by using a prescription medication not allowed by the house. He was in such a state of panic, I had to convince him to get on the train and just start heading as far south as his train pass would take him.
Once on the train he was able to calm down and make some calls. He thought he had secured a bed back at Starr that would be available in two days. He then made the connection with a friend to stay for a few days. As the days went by, one bed after another came and went. It would seem the doors are closing all around him, each with a resounding thud, each one escalating his feelings of fear and abandonment. He is homeless and running out of options and help.
With desperate pleas he text me on Easter Eve to come home, I couldn’t let him, as much as my mother’s heart wanted to take her lost boy in, I couldn’t. I had to be another door that would close on him. His sister picked him up after her shift at the hospital giving him a nights reprieve, a shower and some family time. He came for Easter dinner but he was tentative, afraid of being rejected by all of us.
By the evenings close he was sobbing. Not knowing where he would go.
I had all I could do to remain detached, to see this as his journey; a desperate one, but his none the less. A choice had to be made, would he agree to go to Teen Challenge or would he continue to remain homeless, and struggling to remain clean. He made the call… once he was willing a door opened for a night or two’s lodging. It wouldn’t be the perfect scenario, it would still be uncomfortable and awkward, and anything more and he may not take the much needed step in front of him.
Trying to stay detached and at arm’s length is one of the most difficult things I have ever done. My heart is crying out to run in, take him back home; protect him… but I cannot, and will not disrupt what God is doing. It will be his pain and his fear of more pain that will drive him to real Recovery and I will not stand in the way.
The Shoe has fallen,
and its sound is deafening in my heart, but I will stand fast in the strength that God is making available to me, and hold on to HOPE.