Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday we were on the train pictured above as it crashed into a car killing a man. It is thought that the man drove onto the tracks on purpose. It was an emotional and stressful day - thinking that perhaps someone could have been in so much pain that they would want to end it all.
I had a strange feeling that something was about to smash into me just like the train smacked into the car. Now I know.
Taylor. My first born who I prayed so long and hard for.
I sit here with tears streaming down my face as fast as the rain falls from the sky.
I can't help but think that perhaps God is weeping too.
Tonight I called the police on my son.
Enough is enough. I can not sit by and watch him destroy the life that he has or the lives that we struggle to live. He continues to make one bad choice then another. He says we do not understand. He too, feels like he does not want to be here any longer. He is slowly destroying himself.
You would think that each time you watch your child being taken away by officers or medical professionals it would get easier. Not so. I sit here with pain, grief and the deepest sadness, every fiber of my being hurts.
I can not express how it feels to want to protect your child who now towers over you and outweighs you by more than 50 pounds. A child no longer. An adult in the eyes of the law.
I damn addiction to hell. I pray that the strongholds that have imprisoned my son will be broken. Drugs and alcohol hold nothing but destruction and ultimately death for my once bright and cheery boy.
Addiction is bold and brazen. It robs me of a life that I deserve to have. It puts fear into my household. It terrifies my young children. It angers my teenage son as he watches it destroy his older brother.
I am angry. I am devastated. I am hurt. I am weeping, yet I have hope. I have hope that God who is so much bigger than addiction - has a mighty plan for my child.
God loves him more than I ever could. I have to remember this as I sit unable to sleep. As I worry about what will happen to my son as he is taken to jail tonight.
He did not go in peace. He fought, screamed, kicked and resisted with all he had in him. My gut tied its self in knots as we could hear his screams. My legs went weak and my head pounded. I could see purple as the blood pumped and my heart felt like it was beating a hundred times faster. I felt like I was going to faint. I wanted to just disappear. I wanted to run and hide. People came out side to look, to gawk, their curiosity peaked. Embarrassment, shame, anger all flooded through me at once. Why is this happening - again?
What will it take to make this end?
He will not remember his actions tomorrow.
He will be sorry. He will show remorse. He will not understand why we did what we had to do.
We are trying to save him from himself, and save ourselves in the process from the evil ways of his addiction.
I cry out to Jesus...who knows my pain. He knows my suffering. He tonight will watch over Taylor, because I can not.
There is an eerie peace in our home tonight. Knowing that my son is not out in the cold rain intoxicated, doing who knows what; but that he is in custody of law enforcement brings a strange peace.
Not that I am worry free, don't get me wrong. I am still his mother. No matter what age he is I will always worry about his care and safety. I just am blessed to know that our Lord and Savior is doing just that -
Now Lord - give us peace tonight. Let us rest.
For tomorrow is yet, another day...
with a whole new set of challenges.