Hope Through the Years

Life. Recovery life. Purposeful living. Through each passing year we learn more about how to care for ourselves realizing care for ourselves is not selfish care.  We learn more about compassion for those who are still struggling in the world of addiction and other abuses and all the chaos it brings. And for some like me, it only deepens our faith and trust in the Living God.

Yesterday was Cliff’s 43rd birthday. Yikes!!  How did he get to be my age so quickly (joking, of course!).  I still feel so much younger than the calendar says I am!  Cliff and I are now worlds apart as I am in Scotland serving the Lord and he is in Michigan making his life happen.  Fifteen years ago, life was a stinkin’ mess. Cliff was in the height of his heroin use and I was in the height of my sleepless, hand-wringing nights trying to cope without good coping skills.  That is a learned thing, you know.  Coping requires a sound mind and practiced choices, and I had neither of those skills in my backpack of life. I am so thankful to say that way of life is behind Cliff and it’s behind me.  We each arrived at different times to our healing and wellness but God in His mercy never let go of either one of us. 

Slowly but surely, Cliff is re-aligning his thinking with good and healthy thoughts.  I’ve been the recipient of several sincere phone calls within the past year.  In the first call a few months back he thanked me for always pointing him to God throughout his life even when I wasn’t necessarily walking strong with the Lord.  His comments were an affirmation to my restless heart when the enemy tries to tell me all the things I did poorly as a mother. I was really caught off guard by his recollection and appreciation all these years later to the things he resisted against for so long.  It was salve to my soul.

Yesterday as we chatted for Cliff’s birthday, it was such a nice and simple conversation about his day (he worked) and any celebrating he might do. His work had a small cake for him and many wished him a happy birthday. He had received a few texts early in the morning and he was quite happy to receive those before he went to work. Then when we spoke, he was planning on making his dinner and probably watch a movie once the animals (birds, squirrels and yard cats) were tended to. One more time, Cliff threw me for a loop when he said “Oh! Mom, before we hang up I want to tell you something - I want to tell you that I’m proud of you (gasp!). I know I have not always said it or felt it but lately God has been revealing some things to me and one of them is how selfish I was in expecting you to be perfect while I was a mess.  I’m sorry I held you to that expectation.”  Another memorable mom moment that will be stored forever.  We (my two sons and me) didn’t have a lot of those exchanges (very, very few) over his life as the turmoil (not always his) was often on an extreme level of struggle.  To see him enjoy a quiet birthday as an adult and to pour out a blessing over me was an inward major change and brings peace to my heart.

And, it's been a healing process in his heart which is separate from the healing in mine that can only come from God. In Scotland, I am in a Hope Group that uses nothing but the Word of God for changing lives. And, if you were to take the original 12 Steps of recovery you would see that they line up with the truths of Scripture in every way.  For those of us who believe in the Living God we are being transformed day by day.  2 Corinthians 4:16 says  “That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.”  And, we walk with each other for support, encouragement and compassion.  

This little update doesn’t cover the years between my posts, but it does ring through with all the things I’ve spoken of before.  Never lose hope! Ever!! This has been a 30 year journey for Cliff and me since he was on the path of destruction. The path of destruction may look appealing, but it's a pure lie. Our lives were full of pain, sorrow and regret - faith didn't make this walk a breeze. The narrow path to healing was hard work and full of stumbles and re-starts. But, if God is part of your life and recovery, you can be sure He will walk with you every step of the way and the one you love too, if they will ask.  Let Him lead. 

"I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit"

Romans 15:13 NLT

Chasing The Sun

I raised the window shade at my seat and peered into the dark sky. It was 3:10am and the noisy aircraft was dark and quiet inside. My honorary traveling daughter was seated somewhere else in this rig, and I had all the sleep I was going to get tonight so I played a word game on my phone while occasionally glancing out the window wondering where Waldo might be. Is he still missing?

I went back to my game when a few minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I felt a glimpse of a new day breaking. And just like that, in a matter of 10 minutes, the sky began to give way to colors belonging only to the dawn of day. I hurriedly switched my phone to the camera option and tried to capture each changing second for all the world to see, but sadly my phone is no match for my eyes and those tell tale seconds will belong only to my memory.

Finally, the clouds below were visible and to me they looked like pillows of cotton, lying in heaps and heaps as if freshly shorn from a million sheep. We were chasing the daylight at 3:40 am, and second by second the terrain changed from my window view.  As if the ground was only 50 ft below, I stared out the window at the changing clouds and imagined every view from a lake to a snow capped mountain range to a farmers pattern of crops covering acres of land as far as the eye could see.  Excitedly we were chasing after the sun to start this new day and I visualized all the ways we would spend the next 24 hours when we got to our destination. For some reason, my thoughts briefly turned to Dorian and the obliteration lying in it's aftermath over the Bahama Islands and the only thing I could offer was a whispered prayer to my Creator who surely seemed to be only feet away.

Suddenly the clouds below began to shift and sway, some seeming to ride along with us as if escorting this bird to Iceland, while revealing layers of clouds beneath reminding me just how far off the ground we were. 

At 4:01am, it's daylight out there and I can't wait to get this day started. It's sunny from my position and I hope you are seeing the same. You have a new 24 hours in front of you, just as the Creator planned. In my daily life, I chase after The Son, who brings me peace beyond understanding and guides me through the most trivial moments and the most difficult decisions I need to make. He is reaching out His hand to you, too.

Who are you chasing today?

A Duet with Dad

In nearly 24 hours from now, a friend and I will be jetting off to a land I love, wandering around the countryside to take in the exhilarating sights and sounds of Scotland.  This isn't my first encounter there, but it is the first trip where I've made all the plans and arrangements on my own.  Yikes!!

In 2014, I was in Scotland with my Dad and 7 of 8 siblings along with a few other family members for our Clan AGM meeting.  Clan history is what tells the tale of families in this beautiful country and Scotland is steeped in amazing stories, castles, inventions, clan wars and uprisings.  

In about 5 weeks, Dad will be 90.  90 years = 32,850 days!  That's equivalent to 788,400 hours if you're counting!  I wanted to be sure I saw Dad before I traveled an ocean away.  He's spent the last 2 weeks in a rehab facility following another health concern that seems to have plagued him for nearly 2 years.  Dad took a hard fall and broke his hip/pelvic in such a way that surgery wasn't an option. Healing through pain was the only thing that was offered. Slowly, he began to heal but was taken down more than once with dehydration, infections, stumbles and heart issues.  Thus, he's in another rehab, drinking antibiotics through his veins and healing from 3 cracked ribs. And, he says, he's just tiring out.  Watching him sleep seems almost painful at times as his breathing isn't always rhythmic of a healthy man.

Tonight we chatted about a host of many things and Dad was chipper throughout.  We conversed about various family members while I shared pictures of the young ones posted on Facebook.  We discussed his upcoming birthday celebration where we will gather in his honor. Dad reminisced about Mom more than once and then with great interest we discussed my journey.  As the conversation of Scotland went on Dad said "Gee, I think you're going to have a wonderful trip and if I weren't in this condition I'd buy a ticket and go with you!" I wish you could, Dad.  We have traveled well together over the past 5 years.

Something came to Dad's mind and suddenly he broke into a song from his youthful years and in the midst said he was going to teach it to me so I could sing it with him.  He mentioned that he used to sing it with his sister Anne and then went back into the chorus, waving his finger as he often did when directing an imaginary chorus and finished with a "boom boom" in a timely staccato finish.  Singing was a huge part of life in our childhood home throughout the years and continued until the last days of my mom and dad's marriage.  I would love to sing with you, Dad!

Wistfully he spoke of Mom again and I shared with Dad a few of our intimate  moments she and I exchanged near the end of her days.   She took her last breath in 2003, but as Dad's days are closing in on him, he seems to be missing Mom all the more. It's been hard to watch this virile man with nary a day in the hospital for 88 years of life, now being bounced from pillar to post as he's growing tired and old.  When I think of Dad in my solitary minutes, a line from Dan Fogelberg's song Leader of The Band comes to mind often which says "The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old".  A somber feeling comes with it.

As I got up to go, I hugged and kissed Dad and he said to me "I may not be here when you get back.  God may call me home".  I agreed and said, "He may also call me home!" 

With a hopeful heart and a melancholy mood, I will go on my adventure believing Dad will be here when I get home as we have a birthday celebration approaching.  And I'm especially looking forward to learning a new duet to sing with my favorite balladeer!

With My Own Eyes

Some years back I worked with a co-worker whose step-son "P" was troubling, to say the least. He was 18 years old, had a "maybe" baby (the family wasn't convinced 100% that he was the father) and had been kicked out of his home. P went to live with his grandmother and subsequently was kicked out of his grandmother's home, too. By all accounts he seemed to be rolling head first down the path of a life spent in and out of jail, or worse. He dropped out of school and was involved in some very questionable activity ending with a gunshot through his neck. His story of that action is unclear. Now, step-dad and mom found out he was in county jail, but they didn't know why. It didn't sound very positive for him, did it?

This hard-nosed step-dad "M" was struggling over whether or not to put a few dollars in the young man's commissary account.  Now, I don't know how it is where you are, but here in Michigan you are not given much of anything for free in jail. If you have the money you can have an account and purchase your own soap, tooth brush and toothpaste, etc., or any food items you might want between meals. If you don't have the money for an account you pretty much go without or are given a very low, low grade of toiletries that I hear is probably like lye. Either way, you don't get much and if you want anything more than what's been given to you whether it be food items or toiletries, you have to have a way to pay for it. Additionally, each day you are locked up you are charged a fee, like a motel and upon release, you can walk out with a bill that you are supposed to pay in a short amount of time. Otherwise, you violate your probation and can be locked up in a minute for not paying.  I've seen this with my own eyes. 

So M was in the office talking with me about whether or not to put a few bucks in P's account and I was happy to hear a softer, more compassionate side of him. Two other mother's in the office sitting nearby and hearing the conversation began ranting very loudly, "don't do it! Let him go without! Maybe he'll learn a thing or two......." and on and on it went. Somewhere in my mind I kept hearing "stone him, stone him". I've heard comments made by this supportive group (not!) stating that he is "hopeless." These are the moments where I wanted to say "Shut the heck up! You have no idea what you're talking about!" I've heard this with my own ears over the years. 

At 18 years old, they call him a "MAN". Most of us know that at 18 a young person is hardly a man or a woman. They are just warming up. Some choose constant choices that are unhealthy, unlawful, or unbelievable. We don't know the history of any one's life but our own and those closest to us. I'm not advocating that we coddle, ignore or excuse the behavior but the older I get the more I want to say that NO ONE is hopeless or worthless. These men and women were created by God for a reason, just as we were. If their choices have been less than wise, they have to learn life's lessons the hard way. Some will stay in this path for the rest of their lives while others will have a slow awakening and become mature in an unconventional way. I've also seen this with my own eyes. 

I want to say that there is ALWAYS hope. I would find it difficult to believe that you've enabled someone to stay in an unhealthy lifestyle, by giving them money in an account for a bar of soap, tube of toothpaste or buying them a pair of shoes.  

The years have gone by and I recently heard that "M" passed away. I have no idea what happened with any of his family.  But, I will always have hope for those on the path of recklessness. I've seen someone change with my own eyes. 

Hold On Tight to Your Dreams

This post was written in 2016, but worth resurrecting in 2021.  A timeless thought and practice for anyone looking at their life in the midst of chaos. 

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Here we are. One month under our belt in 2016.  I hope you still have a glimmer of the hopes and dreams you planted for yourself, or thought you did, as the new year approached. 

Do you remember being full of hope and new promise of untouched ideas and unexplored dreams before the chaos of addiction was crouching at your door?  Remember what it was like to look ahead and see yourself doing something you thought would change the world or at least change your life? 

Gosh, it was so long ago when I used to imagine myself either performing, teaching or nursing.  But when life didn't head in that direction, nor did I have my feet firmly planted to make any of these aspirations a goal, I began to put those dreams into boxes near my chair so I could pull them back out when I was ready.  Then the boxes were in the way and after hurting myself tripping over them, they were placed up high on a shelf that were never pulled back down and remained there unopened.  Finally, those boxes were tossed away when changes came along and those dreams seemed untouchable or foolish for one like me. 

When Cliff was in full blown addiction, I began to see myself through a narrower eyeglass and only examined his life through the telescopic lens, because you know, he was my son.  My problem, my rescue and my responsibility.  I was so exhausted trying to save Cliff, I had no time or desire to change my own life.  I thought it was selfish to think about me because, after all, who would help my poor baby??  As if he were my infant child, I would cry out at night "He's hungry, he's alone, he's cold, he's fearful."  Is he going to survive another night on the street?  But the fact was "He's 18, he's 21, he's 25" and those concerns kept overriding all sensible thinking.  

When I was created, like all of us, I was planted with a future and a hope.  Dreams, visions and ideas were indelibly planted in my marrow by my Creator.  He gave you some of your own, too.  But, when the chaos of addiction became my partner in every breath I took, the enemy of my soul kept telling me that nothing would change. The subtle, sneaky, lying deceiver kept telling me my dreams and visions I had were foolish and a thing of the past, let alone the dreams I had for my children. Those were stomped out and gone. The only dream I could see was burying Cliff from an overdose, which by the grace of God didn't happen.  Wow, the time I spent lost in the lies added up to years.  

But guess what?  When my own recovery from codependency finally took root, I learned that I was powerless over this thing and certainly powerless over my sons lives and therefore, better look closely at my own. I discovered that some of my character traits weren't very nice and were requiring change, even at 61.  But, they don't change the dreams and goals planted by my Creator and are still here.  He never took them away from me in spite of my belief that they were long gone. There was no expiration date on those specific gifts He gave me. Soon, the boxes of dreams re-appeared in my line of vision and were within my grasp.  The lids were lifting up again and soon, the plans re-awakened in my thinking. 

Some of the things God planted in me, occur without thought because I simply love the life He's given me and I'm thankful that today I can walk in confidence that I will still have opportunities to live out my dream. Writing happens to be one of them. Other dreams and character behaviors are still being shaped, even at 61.  Yay!

And in those dreams that are taking shape, I see both of my sons becoming the men that God created them to be, without their mommy's direction.  They are men. They are responsible. They are loved by the same Creator and were born with a future and a hope, too.  Your addict and your alcoholic were created in just the same way!  This is not an exclusive club. Have hope! 

Not nobody, not no how (tipping my hat to the Cowardly Lion) is going to steal my dreams and blessings again.  They may not look like the vision I had at 18, 25, or 40, but they are exactly as they should be right now. God keeps His plans and promises. We just have to believe and let Him in. 

Hold on Tight To Your Dreams

You tube and picture googled

Saturday Mornings

Saturday morning was full of questions for myself regarding my commitment to meetings for family support through this crazy, chaotic world of loving our addicts.  I wonder if this is what I should be doing or if it's really worth the time I am investing to be available for those who hurt. Then I remember that this is just as much for me as it is for those who choose to attend.  

Today we reviewed a little portion from Melody Beattie's book Codependent No More.  If you have not invested time in reading this book, run to your nearest library, used bookstore or Hazelden.org and get yourself a copy of what could change your codependent life.  Truthfully, we are all codependent in some form or another. But sometimes through childhood years, unhealthy friendship/relationships, addiction or alcohol abuse, we find ourselves in full blown illness.  But, just as people are unwilling to recognize addiction as an illness,  we surely aren't going to give room for codependency as an illness. The author refers to a statement by Earnie Larsen  "If you defined your problem as living with an alcoholic, you may think not living with an alcoholic is the solution to your problem.  That may be partially correct.  But our real problems are codependents are our own characteristics - our codependent behaviors."  Well now, isn't that an awakening?  It was for me. 

When I first began attending meetings six years ago, a recovering alcoholic pointed an accusatory finger at me and said "you have doormat stamped across your forehead"...and laughed.  Stick it, pal, I wanted to say. Not very Christian like I know, but I thought to myself because I didn't have the courage to speak, you have no idea how close the line really is from being a good mom to being an enabler,  It can be a baffling place when you are fully in the world of  denial, controlling, anger and a myriad of other emotions that try to direct your life of secrets.  Oh, thank You Lord, that I am on the healing side of that horrid place.

Today, I listened to another parent and her adult daughter talk about taking those first steps of setting themselves free.  Some boundaries were being outlined and slowly this nearly 70 year old mother is beginning to see that her life is not about taking care of her out of control addict. That God created her for a purpose of her own and His plan for her is good.  She's tired and her addict exhausts her. As with most addicts, this one is diagnosed with a bunch of mental illness issues.  Every other parent there nodded in understanding as she talked about how hard it is to watch her neurotic son  load up on the pills they want him to take.  She hardly knows him.  Yet, a month ago when he was admitted to the hospital for some very paranoid behaviors and they took him off all prescribed meds for evaluation, this mom said, "I had a glimpse of my son again."  Three days later he was on all his pills again because his case manager lets the addict tell her what he needs.  It's a crazy thing.  

In the state of Michigan, you can tell the social programs that are "helping you" that you aren't using needle drugs or methamphetamine and they don't necessarily test you.  You are then added to the program and psychiatrists/psychologists will prescribe all kinds of anti-depressants, anxiety or any other type of drug they think you need or you think you need.  They will practically let you call your own medical plan into action.  And because of HIPPA, the family does not have to be included or consulted.  So drug addicts with crazy behavior can work the people and not have to work a program and the family tries to deal with crazy. No wonder we become control freaks. 

The medical field has very little addiction education in their years of preparing for their medical license.  Last I heard, the average medical doctor spends 8 classroom hours on addiction.  How in the world are we going to reduce the number of addicts in our society when all the medical field wants to do is load them up with "legal" drugs?? It's a nightmare. 

Thankfully, through the steps of recovery we learn to step back and not try to fix this or control it.  Our beloved addicts have to want this life change and we are learning to stand back and say "yay" when they take the steps necessary to change their lives into healthy chemical free living.  

And now the best part of this chapter closed with this:

Recovery helps stop the unbearable pain many of us (*codependents) have been living with.   Recovery is simple. It is not always easy but it is simple.  

It is based on a premise many of us have forgotten or never learned. 

Each person is responsible for him - or herself.  

It involves learning one new behavior that we will devote ourselves to : taking care of ourselves. 

I promise you this.  You will be changed and your relationships will be changed when you embrace this truth!!

The Christmas Ghosts

Ebenezer Scrooge wasn't the only one that had no peace and was visited by ghosts through his hours of restless slumber. Those ghosts can be so active as they try to infiltrate the most lovely of days even when we're awake!   I often find myself alone through these days except for a few brief moments of breaking bread here and there with others, but the hours go slowly when you are by yourself through what appears to be the most wonderful time of the year.  


Yesterday evening I went to a Christmas Eve service where I attend church and as usually happens it brings peace to my soul and new vision to my sight of what Christmas is truly all about. And that's a good, good thing since the chaos of a life partnered with addicts can and will try to blur the truth if you're naively unaware. 

The Ghost of Christmas Past tries to enter into the present on a regular basis.  Flashing pictures before me of somber, sad days when the addict I loved was M.I.A. or incarcerated for yet another year, the ghost tries to rob me of today's love, peace and joy that's rooted down deep in my soul. He throws dirt on my soul in an effort to cover up the truth and tries desperately to turn my feelings into a tumultuous throwback of days gone by.  Ha!  That ghost doesn't know he's coming up against an arsenal of Biblical truths and 12 Step practices that have woven themselves in and through my mind, heart and soul and will come up against any lies or deceit of the past trying to make this day miserable.  Instead, with every fiery dart the ghost tries to shoot my way the Truth comes up to intercept and redirect that dart away from me and quickly floods my thoughts with accurate words that quell my fears and sadness. The Spirit of Truth says to me through His Word: "For You have rescued me from death; You have kept my feet from slipping. So now I can walk in your presence, O God, in your life-giving light"  (Psalm 56:13)

Life-giving Light!! Take that, Marley!  

The Ghost of Christmas Present is really waging war with the Spirit of The Lord who is keeping my eyes and thoughts where they belong.  He reminds me in Philippians with these words:  "So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision - you'll see it yet! Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it." (Phil 3:15-16)

Oh, I could go on and on about the Scriptures in Philippians as they are a firm foundation to my faith walk and keeping me healthy along with the truths of Al-anon encouraging me to stay focused on NOW.  Not going back to rehash what's already passed and not going forward and fixating on an event or scenario that hasn't happened yet, but to just be here. Right here, right now. Don't you see how they fit hand in hand? It has turned MY thinking inside out and let my Creator whisper truth, guidance and direction in the way that He says I should go or when He says I should be still.  Those are hard lessons learned at times, but the most valuable lessons I've ever experienced.   

The Ghost of Christmas Future is no ghost to me. Not anymore. I've learned to not run ahead of myself and create angst where there doesn't need to be any. I am not going to try to outsmart my addict, or any other person in my life so I can prepare as to how I will react, do or not do the thing that hasn't even happened yet. God's word is rich with promises of leading me into the future in His loving care. Wow...what a lot of time spent unnecessarily in days gone by.  I'm so thankful to be out of the faux rat-race I was in!  Ugh! 

My Creator says: 

"Forget about what's happened; don't keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I'm about to do something brand new."   (Isaiah 43:18 (MSG) 

Step Three says, and I go to this step often in my meditation, "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to God as we understood Him".  That step is part of the 12 Steps of AA which began in August 1938 and became equally important to Al-Anon in it's beginnings in 1951. 

Make today count in the best way you can focusing on this one important truth. You are loved today whether in a crowd of people or sitting alone in a dark place.  Let the Light of Life shine in your heart and chase those ghosts away whether it be past, present or future. Your Creator desires to do something magnificent in your life!! Step back and let Him in!

Merry Christmas, my friends! 

I Can Swim!

Seven months ago I made a home purchase and for the first time in 25 years I am no longer a renter. This is a MAJOR change in my life and one that I didn't think would ever come my way again.  And for the amount of a 4-1/2 year car loan, I will be a homeowner in less than five years! 

This move was preceded by a conversation I had with Cliff when I began to think about moving.  I didn't make this decision in haste, as was often the plan of my past.  I deliberated and prayed about it for several months, trying to figure out a way to gain back not only money but time.  My commute to work was nearly an hour each way no matter which route I traveled and my odometer clicked at least 40 miles a day for that task alone.  So in my chit-chat with Cliff, I informed him that I would be looking to make a move soon, paused, and then said "and you are not invited to come along".  GULP.  That one was so, so hard to say. 

Cliff's life had dramatically changed from that day in prison when he had a conversation with God about removing this addiction from his body and a promise to change his life.   While on parole, he lived life to the letter of the law and most things pertaining to his former ways were gone.  What he battled however, was changing his pattern of life.  He had new friends, who were not in his prior circle at all but they still lived life as if they had not a care in the world. Soon old routines crept back in such as late, late nights and sleeping half the day away on the days he didn't work.  Then he tried to stay up with his pals and still get up for work. You can probably imagine how well that was going.  His routine was totally contrary to mine. Oh,  I tried to caution, fix, warn and threaten Cliff with a plummeting future if he didn't step away from these "friends" but my words were not welcomed. 

Realizing that my old patterns and habits were beginning to creep back in caused me to re-examine my own life style and choices I was making.  Being an enabler, I thought that giving Cliff an opportunity to get on his feet was a good thing. And the intent was exactly that.  But slowly time proved otherwise and what was intended to be a hand up ended up being a crutch and I began to feel oppressed again and extremely resentful.  "NO, NO, NO THIS CAN"T GO ON" I screamed inwardly. I had come way to far in this healthy living to step back one inch. 

So, with a month paid of reinstated service on an expired phone plan in his pocket, a packed lunch and $50.00, Cliff went his way and I went mine.  I paid his bus fare for a one-way ticket to a city in another state as he was invited to try and find his way in life there.   For months he would call and give me the updates of slow progress in his life and quipping that 'since he was kicked to the curb' he was doing the best he could.  I reminded him that he had 3 years notice that the curb was waiting for him and he could prepare for change  or ignore it.  Feeling overwhelmed with any life change Cliff chose to ignore it. 

Over time Cliff has now found his way in a new location, making new friends who are working hard for a living or getting an education of higher learning or both. Cliff has been forced to dig down deep in his soul and pull his big boy socks up and face the world, as my dad would say. He has realized that he is able to live his life in an adult way and hold his head up high.  In a more recent conversation Cliff said "I guess I had to see if I could sink or swim.  I always thought I would sink but I found out I can swim!"  Sounds a little cheesy but to Cliff this was a milestone for sure. His statement stunned me all the while I was listening as I thought to myself "whoever told you, you would sink??"   A twinge of sadness shuddered through me as I wondered why he never believed in himself before. 

Cliff will soon celebrate five years of clean living.  He is in a completely new place and has accomplished this on his own merit.  While most families would be seeing these results in their adult children at the ages of their late teens and early 20's, I celebrate every step of the way with Cliff. I am so thankful that he is having these results and I get to be part of it instead of visiting a cemetery and laying flowers on a marker every so often, which would possibly have been the result of an unchanged life if God had not intervened when He did. 

And, as I've changed my lifestyle and standard of living, most of my family relationships have improved greatly too.  So if you are a parent, sibling, child or friend of a substance user/abuser I want to share with you what God has said about this: 

"So let's not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up, or quit"  

(Galatians 6:9 MSG).

Be encouraged!!


Pic via Google

Miss T and Me

Yesterday was packed full from beginning to end. In my place of worship and fellowship we believe in serving others in our community and also in some of the larger communities nearby.  Naturally, the larger communities are the places that people often don't want to venture to, due to unfamiliarity, notable skin color differences, and fear of crime. And naturally, we like to stay with what's familiar. Why, even in the animal kingdom more often than not, animals seek to be with and stay within their own safety zones and generally the only thing that drives them way out of their own dwelling space is hunger. Hunger drives us. It can't and won't be ignored.

The culture of Facebook is an entity of it's own and you hear of folks who either scoff at it or live and breathe by it.  I like Facebook for a selfish reason ~ 8 siblings.  Some live near and some live far and we've opted to use Facebook as our point of contact.  It seems rather pitiful that this is our mode of operation and yet, when we need to share a concern or celebrate good news, it seems like the best place to make sure we pass the word. A few years ago to my surprise, which has turned into my delight, I came across a childhood friend on Facebook via another friend's account. I saw her name and thought to myself, "that can't be the Karen I know, can it?" so I clicked on her name to see what I could see.

I've mentioned before that Detroit had such a white flight out in the late 60's/early 70's that our secure foundation of family and friends was shaken to its core. Imagine if you will, standing in the midst of a great gathering one minute, but by the time you turned 360 degrees nothing seemed or looked the same. Ninety percent of those familiar faces were gone. We were scattered in all directions and  those who you weren't tightly connected with seemed to have vanished into thin air. So now, nearly 40 years later, when I clicked on her name I read about  a life I didn't know at all.  Her story was so familiar to me now after dealing with an addict in my family and yet it just didn't match the girl I knew from my past. Reading along though, I quickly realized we had a real connection beyond anything I'd known about her before.Suddenly we could talk about recovery and the saving grace of Jesus and truly connect as if not a day without contact had passed between us.

Karen Robak Gates is a biker chick that spent many a year in the streets and on the stuff. She lived in the warmer states for many years doing her thing until one day she called out to her Higher Power and got a clean body and a redeemed soul, too. Forever thankful for what God is doing in her life, she eventually found her way back to Michigan and began a foundation to serve the forgotten, thrown away people in the city we grew up loving, Detroit.  So as I poured over Karen's story and pictures with faces that were so real, my heart was tugged upon to come along side and see what I could do.  A team was formed from my church and we have been going once a month to serve on the sidewalk in front of the decrepit, desolate and deserted train station in Detroit. Where once a grand matriarch stood so proudly, now a forgotten old relative is abandoned and left to die alone. Yet weekly The Ark Association stands on the sidewalks along side her, feeding the hungry and homeless a hot meal right on the sidewalks. There's no shelter from the cold, rain, snow or blistering heat. Shadowy figures come from nowhere like clockwork knowing that someone will be there without fail. It may be the only guarantee they have in life right now that doesn't quit. And although  The Ark Association is not a religious foundation their work is rather Biblical as we give food to the hungry and clothing to the naked, whether friend or foe.

Once a month our team assists their weekly outreach in bringing food and clothing to others who are hungry or need something to wear.  It was there a few weeks ago I met " Miss T".  A woman maybe near 40 whose story involves a history of an abusive husband who is now deceased from cancer, a pit of depression and drug usage and children with children who share her home, which she just received through assistance. Miss T also proudly tells me she is now in college and studying for her finals! But as I heard her story, I realized she has an apartment but not much else. Driving home that day I shared this information with my team and before the weekend was done an array of items were put together for her. A bed with bedding, a couch and tables, a few dishes and a little holiday jar of candy. along with a small artificial Christmas tree. A little basket of items for her three year old granddaughter was gathered as well. Yesterday we delivered these items and met her sons.  We were busy for less than an hour and later on Miss T left me a message stating that she was humbled and blessed to receive these items. We've helped her for a moment, but have been impacted for a lifetime.

The Scriptures never direct us to find out how people got into this situation, although if a friendship is cultivated that may come up.  It just directs us to share what we have. Maybe we weren't directed to ask because that would put us in a judging frame of mind and that's a place where I surely don't belong.

Ministry and service work go hand in hand. One meets the physical need and one meets the spiritual need and I'd say the giver gains more from the exchange than the receiver any day.  


God bless you and keep you, Miss T.

Choosing to Believe

Candyland! Kids, presents and candy were everywhere today when our church held it's annual Angel Tree Christmas Party. That's the party that is planned for children of incarcerated parents. It's an awesome day and this party was so well done that I felt like I was turning in circles with my mouth hanging open in amazement most of the time. I did participate and volunteered in small ways but the planning and the work that went into this day came to a beautiful result when all was said and done, of which my codependent self let others do. This is a great big step for me not feeling like I had to be in the managing and hanging in from morning till night.

Over the past year I've met a number of other women like me with incarcerated, drug addicted sons. Except for Lou whom I met at our recovery meeting, the other mothers and I met at the Jail/Prison letter writing ministry and today they were also part of the volunteers that helped host today's party. As the day would allow, there were small pockets of conversations taking place as people had moments to catch up with someone they knew or meet a new friend they were working with.

I got a present of my own, too! Looking around from time to time I did a double take more than once noticing Cliff engaged in conversations with some of the other women who've walked in my shoes. Seeing Cliff in these moments sent a surge of gratefulness and pride through my veins that I hadn't anticipated at all. Cliff agreed to volunteer today when asked by others, not by me. Love it. He worked hard and well and was always visible among the workers. Not once did someone ask me if I'd seen Cliff in the last 15 - 30 minutes nor was he MIA once today. Love it more. Cliff stayed after the party (when I went home) to help break down the event and reset the room for tomorrow's services. Love it lots.

Mostly, I really, really loved seeing Cliff speaking to the other mothers. He looks so clean and healthy and is making choices and working a program that allows him to stay in the day that I'm sure it is giving hope to the other mothers. My friends, Lou, Harriet, Cindy and Mary Kay, all beautiful mothers looked at Cliff with encouragement and pride instead of sideways glances that used to come Cliff's way in his prior life. The gift of a clean and healthy Cliff is the best gift I'll get this year and for many more to come.

On my knees night after night, I continue to pray for Cliff's choices of recovery and believing for the day of seeing four other healthy, clean men in our midst.

I choose to believe.

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