Friday, April 18, 2008

My son's next phase

Tomorrow, I will see my son. I am very excited to see him, and to drive him to a place where I know he will be safe. I know this, because he will be with two people whom I trust. I know that both of these people have integrity, and that they care about me and my son.

I am so blessed to have friends, like these. I am at a loss at how I can show them my deep appreciation for opening up their home for B.

B will be required to keep rules.
  • He will be required to commute to his recovery center five days a week.
  • He will also be required to attend meetings, that need to be documented.
  • He will also be drug-tested.
  • If he is "dirty" or refuses to test, he will be considered "dirty". He is fully aware that if he has a "dirty" drug test, that he will lose the privilege of living with these wonderful people.
  • He will have a choice of returning as an "inpatient" and beginning the detox all over again. Or...

I don't want to think of the or...

I was thinking back to the day when B came to me in the throes of his withdrawal. That was on Saturday, March 29th, 2008. He looked exhausted. His skin was in bad shape, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was slurring, and emotionally, he was crying. He looked broken and defeated. I wonder how much of this he remembers, today...

B looked so depressed and despondent. I could see that the "accuser" had made my son believe that his life was not worth living. I was both angry and hurt, that my son could even think that. My son is worth living! He is a joy to know, and he is my gift from God. B has a smile that will melt your heart. He's a tall and beautiful boy. He is an intelligent young man, who relates with people of all ages. He has a good heart. That is why it broke my heart to see my son, collapsed on my living room chair, his chest heaving with tears of pain and defeat. I desperately wanted him to know that this was not a hopeless situation.

I remember B saying to me that he was worthless. I remember grabbing his long and slender hands, relieved that he wasn't rejecting my touch. I reminded him how much God loves him, and that he is forgiven. I don't think that B could understand the depth of God's love for us, at that time. I pray that he feels that now.

Today, this was my daily devotional, from Our Daily Bread. I wanted to share this because I'm thankful to be reminded:
READ: Psalm 103:1-12
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. —Psalm 32:1

A little boy had just been tucked into bed by his mother, who was waiting to hear his prayers. But he had been naughty that day, and now it was bothering him. So he said, "Mama, I wish you'd go now and leave me alone. I want to pray by myself."

Sensing that something was wrong, she asked, "Bobby, is there anything you ought to tell me?" "No, Mommy," he replied. "You would just scold me, but God will forgive me and forget about it."

That little boy understood one of the greatest salvation benefits of all—the reality of sins forgiven. The Bible indicates that in Christ "we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins" (Col. 1:14). We who have received the Lord Jesus as Savior enjoy freedom from sin's eternal condemnation (Rom. 8:1), and we can also have daily forgiveness and cleansing (1 John 1:9).

The apostle Paul said that salvation provides these added benefits: we are justified (Rom. 3:24), and we are at peace with God (5:1).

We should never get the idea that our sins are taken lightly by the Lord. But when we acknowledge our guilt with true repentance, God is ready to forgive because of what Jesus did on the cross. It's up to us to accept it. — Richard De Haan

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small:
Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul, my life, my all. —Watts

When God forgives a sin, He never brings it up again.

1 comment:

Katherine said...

You and B have been on my mind alot lately. I am praying for Devine intervention. My heart aches as I think of your pain.
I am hopeful this weekend will go well.
Love, Katherine