Doors


Doors are meant as a means of access. When a door is opened, access to what lies on the other side can take place. One must open the door to access what lies on the other side of it.

This past Thursday I went through many doors as I waited to finally see my son after 60 days of separation/incarceration due to his relapse into active addiction.

As I left my house I prepared myself before I even opened the door to go. I knew there would be the possibility that he may refuse the next step. Our last conversation was good and he seemed confident in taking the step, but I had no clue what had taken place in his mind since then. I prepared my heart and my mind for the possibility, knowing I would have to stand firm in the event that would happen. Home would NOT be an option. Before I opened the door of my home to head to the court house… My resolve had to be in place.

Opening the door to get into my car meant I was heading to see him. I was choosing to move toward him, to place myself in a vulnerable situation where my heart could be broken. I have promised him that as long as he is moving toward recovery I would move toward him. I will not participate in his active addiction, but I will be there to support him in recovery.

Once at the court house I went through several doors, each moving me closer to the reality of seeing him for the first time in 60 days, each door bringing me closer to the reality of his freedom. I waited inside the courtroom, sitting on the edge of my seat for just even a glimpse of him each time they opened the sliding wall partition that separated the prisoners from the courtroom. Finally they called his name and the sliding portioned opened. There he stood, peering over the shoulder of his attorney scanning the room for my presence. Briefly our eyes connected, but his attention snapped to the judge who asked him to raise his right hand.

Even though I had been told by his attorney how this would play out, there was that moment of doubt as the judge pondered the request. My son standing with ear bent to the whole cut in the glass waiting to hear the judges words, me sitting with my ear inclined toward the judge. Would he go along with the Probation officer and attorney or would this door be closed. My greatest fear was that the judge would not grant the freedom necessary to move through the door that was waiting for my son, and the wall partition would close, leaving my son broken behind that wall. While he was in jail, the necessary doors just wouldn’t open for him to move forward in his recovery and I was half expecting the same.

As the judge finally granted his freedom, the wall partition did close, but I was directed to a new door. One in which my son would walk out a free man, free to pursue the New Door that was waiting for him. As I walked (half ran) down the four (double) flights of stairs I praised God for the New opportunity that lays waiting for my son (if he chose to walk through the door).

I sat on the bench in the hall for what seemed like an eternity, I talked to a friend on the phone to help me pass the time, constantly checking my watch. The attorney said 10 – 15 minutes, it had been 17… finally there coming down the stairs was my son, freshly shaven, trimmed hair with a wide smile. We hugged, tears welled up in my eyes. It was so good to see him, clean, free from the affects of opiates.

As we walked out of the door of the Court house I looked at my freed son and said… Are you ready for the next step…

He looked at me for a few moments and I thought for sure he was going to give me a song and dance with a new concocted plan, but he smiled and said

“can we just get coffee first”.

We drove to the nearest Coffee shop where he woofed down a breakfast sandwich and ice coffee in record time… then we went on our way to the Door that had been opened by the very hand of God.

I did not sense one moment’s hesitation in my son, each step of the process as we walked through the door, were shown around the house and as we went through the interview I sensed a relief in my son…that this door just might be the place where he can begin to put his addiction to rest.

Many doors will open and close in our lives, some doors will be more weighty then others. But in order for any door to make a difference it must be opened, so that we gain access to what lies inside and allow it to change our lives.

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2 comments on “Doors

  1. yaya says:

    So glad your son walked through the Recovery Door. The journey is a long hard one but he's taken the first step.

    I am new to your Blog. How long has your son done drugs? How old is he? What type of facility is he presently in?

    I lok forward to following his Recovery Journey (and yours).

    God Bless

  2. susanj2008 says:

    My son will soon be 24. This has been a 6 year journey to date. He's been in and out of Rehabs and a few Halfway Houses. Today he's in a small Faith Based Mens House. In a mentor type program. And today… is a good day!

    thanks for visiting. Hope you become a regular!
    Susan

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