Another One...

The phone rings and my stomach tightens.  

This time…not our Prodigal...but another family stricken by the disease.  A family friend…a young mother lays in bed in ICU at a hospital, her organs failing as the addictive substance threatens to take her out.  A kind woman…smart and educated…lays bare to the secret addiction she’s been nursing for 5 years.  More questions than answers.  The beginning of knowing just now rearing its ugly head.

And again I feel the punch.  To the gut.  The flashback to the beginning.  The knowing of the road this family is about to travel.  The determination in their voices that they will be able to fix this.  They will stop at nothing to get her help.  The right help. They will get to the bottom of this.  The best treatment. Doctors…psychologists…nutritionists…they will stop at nothing.

My body tenses…the chills making the hairs on my arms stand on end…sensing the similarity of stories that we all share.  The addicts and the family’s that love them.  The undying desire to fix the problem.  Cure the disease.  Conquer the demons. 

I extend my sympathy….my hurting heart…to the mama of the mama.  I offer love and hugs and the promise to pray.  The offer of support but the respect of privacy and anonymity.  

My type-A personality wants to jump in…tell them what they should do.  Tell them the mistakes that I believe we made.  Give them information…too much information.  But I pause…and I pray…as they will need to walk this road on their terms.  In their own way.  One day at a time.  So instead, I say nothing.  I exchange audible words for powerful prayers.  Knowing that God is the only one that can lead them through this journey that has only just begun….AND….that this young woman will have that same decision to make…Does she want to get well….