If This Old Tree Could Talk

If this old tree could talk, I wonder what stories it might tell.

It stands in my front yard with a girth of about 12 feet round the base. Its branches reach a good 40 feet high and sprawls out and around probably 3o feet in diameter. It has weathered many storms in its life. It has shaded many a horse; a stone hitching post still stands sturdy in the earth underneath its branches.

This is the tree that has given shade to many of our family picnics. It has lent its limbs for climbing on and hanging swings. It has been the backdrop to portrait photos. And it is the tree my son paced under one sunny afternoon seeking a protective cover for the hard emotions he was suffering.

Have you ever tried to project your voice in the outdoors? A voice level that would be a definite loud yelling inside the house is somehow lost outside, a small cry in the open air under this old tree.

Have you ever stood next to a 40-foot tree? A person is so small in comparison; a man at a 6-foot height and nearly 180 lbs. may seem large standing man to man but stands small in the open space under this old tree.

Here is where my son let it all out. His weary heart desperately seeking answers. Standing small under the old tree. A small cry in the open air.

If this tree could talk, it would say it has heard these cries before, just as God has. These cries my son cried are universal to humankind.

If this old tree could talk, it’d likely say:

“Dear human, you are not alone, for many humans struggle with these same frustrations and want answers to questions that seem un-answerable.”

You cry, I just want to be normal!

“Dear human, there is no normal, it is a facade. Comparison is a lethal injection to a growing soul. Please don’t look at yourself as less than, against others. You are who you are; your normal is normal for you.”

You cry, Why did God make me this way?

“Dear human, God makes each human uniquely and for His purpose to do His work on this earth; whether you know Him or not, He has a purpose for your life. Your struggles are yours to battle yet most often has impact on growing others around you as well. I know it’s not easy, but you must stand tall in the storms just like me; Plant your feet like roots in the Truth. Humans rarely know why God creates them like they are, you don’t need to know why – you just need to trust in the One who made you and knows you better than you know yourself.“

You cry, I hate my life!

“Dear human, hate is such a strong emotion and it’s not helpful or productive. You must above all things resist the temptation to hate your life. Fight against this with all your might. Each human life, yours included, is precious. Hear this. Know this.”

Yes, my son said all these things underneath this old tree. For more on this story, consider ordering my book about my son’s journey with addiction and these hard emotions he suffered.

The Beast & The Battle

The Beast grips and rips – lies and deceives. Angry fists shake, words are spewed, and hearts break. This is the Battle with addiction and it consumed my son quite literally. Nose to Nose we stood in the Battle.

If you love someone who suffers from addiction – if you suffer yourself from unseen battles – if you grieve an overdose death of a loved one – or want to know just how addiction can affect a family … my shared story is for you.

I am smiling here in this photo not because this is a book to enjoy, but a book that will open your mind so that stigma is squashed; open your heart so that you may see yourself and others better; and leave you with hope – not despair.

Two years rolling around in my head, one year of writing, and now here it is for you to read.

My Sons’ Death was a Springboard: Part Two

PART TWO:  As, I said…my sons’ death was a springboard into the deeper understanding of three important things:

1. The human condition,
2. The power of relationship,
3. The gift of a day

Today I share with you #2… Open my eyes, to see people as you see them….

Because of my son, Caleb, I am privy to see a lot of people in the realm of recovery, people affected by the pain of a loved one struggling with addiction, and those who mourn the loss of loved ones to overdose, and the more people I listen to and talk with, the more backstories I hear. When it all boils down … when I look past the backstories full of weeping pain and wounds and hurts… I see vulnerable children of God, whom He created in His image. I see people who need love and care and who have need to be wanted and feel like they have a reason to keep going… just like me… just like all of us; these are basic human needs.

This involves commitment to relationship. Relationships take time and effort and sacrifice, but we all need them and even more so because of our human condition. Relationship can be as simple as a good word spoken to encourage another, or as generous as an invitation to supper, or as deep as being there for someone when you are needed no matter the time of day or night. Croix, Evan, Mike, and others are family to us because we see them and they see us; each of us has needs that we mutually fulfill. I see these friends in recovery doing this for other friends too. Because of my sons’ past involvement in the recovery community, I feel drawn to be in relationship whenever I can, with whoever is put in my path, because in this way, I am the hands and feet of God. The power of relationship begins to heal brokenness; seeing the human condition, it seems clear to me, that I need to do something about it.

I choose to deepen my relationship with Jesus, the One with the nail holes in his hands… and I do what I do because of Him.

What will you do?

 

 

 

 

First Moments with my Dead Son

In my battle with daily grief, I share my first moments with my dead son.

The Time to Let it Go

Walking by the stares that tried not to look, they kept looking…
but I was certain not to lift my eyes.
One step in front of the other,
I followed until the curtain was parted
and I stepped into the space that became enclosed as the curtain was let go.
A soft sway of the fabric gently moved, until the stillness was bigger.

Machines stood around me,
Entangled wires left to hang.
No beeps or whirrs or steady drones to hear.
Just silence echoed, bouncing in the space like a torpedo bomb looking for its target.
My sons body lay there, his long legs and muscled shoulders filled the table and stretched the sheet right up to his chin.

Was this really him?
I stared at his sleeping body as I had done so many times before, through all the years of nurture and care…
What do I do
but put my hand on his chest – no rise, no fall – and I feel the stillness and the silence as it stopped right here.

A tear trickles down my cheek, then another, and another,
and my voice, like a misty vapor, can only say:
“God, have mercy on my son’s soul.”
For the very last time I kiss his forehead and catch the scent of my son’s body
to savor as a memory forever…
The time to let it go,
Will be
when I meet him again
on the other side.

This memory is ingrained in my mind and will never leave; the images, the smells, and the visceral pain rushes like raging waters breaking the dam, at any unexpected moment, without warning.

I cannot erase it.

I cannot ignore it.

It doesn’t go away.

I have been writing about the ongoing battles that my son, who died of an overdose, dealt with; I have shared some of the battles & victories that other friends in Recovery face; but today I share a little of the battle I face every single day, in grief.

It is common practice to encourage people to talk about their trauma’s in order to process and work through them. Experiencing the unexpected death of a child is a gigantic trauma; the battle with daily grief is real and not easily understood by onlookers and supporters, even though some try so hard.

How can you help?

Here are 5 ways:

• Listen; we need to talk about the raw, unedited stuff sometimes
• Be still with us and maybe hug us; we are lonely in the crowded rooms, and in pain.
• Do not try to reason our suffering away with staid, trite phrases; we don’t want to hear it, and even if we did, our minds are so overwhelmed we don’t hear what you are saying anyway; I love you, is more than sufficient.
• Be patient with us; it is scary to re-involve ourselves with life and activities that once were routine for us.
• Pray for us; grief is a process and it weighs us down, sometimes just getting out of bed is the biggest accomplishment for the day; we need God’s healing.

 

Please share with those who may need to hear my story of grief, to know they are not alone,  or share with someone who can hear and then learn how they might help someone else in similar grief as me.

 

 

Trust God, Clean House, Help Others

My friend, Croix, got his One Year Coin and I was there to witness it!

This young man was my son’s roommate at the local sober house, Honest Beginnings, and the one my son wept fearful tears with just days before my son overdosed and died.

Proud.

Yes, I was so proud of him as he beamed at the podium. We have emotionally adopted Croix and think of him as a son, as we do others we have met while we were on the difficult journey of trying to help our own addicted son in Recovery.

At the podium, my freind clearly declared and shared his testimony as to how he accomplished this milestone:

“Trust God, Clean House, Help Others” is what he said.

Basically, that was his whole speech..

This plan is so simple; it is profoundly awesome!

Trust God: At some point in our lives, we must admit that there is One over us, One we must submit to and trust with our lives.

• For me, that is Jesus; “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)

Clean House: No Windex necessary! It’s not that kind of cleaning. This is cleaning out the messes in life that we have created – making amends with people we have offended and hurt – seeking forgiveness and making things right with them.

• As a Christian, I align this with the concept of repentance, making all things right in relationship to God, first, then with others; “Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.” (Romans 12:18)
  

Help Others: This is the profoundly awesome part because it is the key that keeps him continuing on the path of Recovery.  Croix said, when he stops helping others, that’s when he sees himself begin to slip in thought/mind and heart and that’s a dangerous thing… a very dangerous thing.

Helping others is the way to stay focused — talk the talk, and walk the talk alongside!

• Coincidentally, this is the way to follow Jesus as well, He said: be fishers of men – do as I did – love your neighbor. Jesus sought out the broken and made them whole by seeking, serving, and loving. This is key to the mission, no wonder it is so effective in Recovery for one to help the other; it’s essential to passing on the wholeness & healing.

So, in case you are wondering…

or know someone else who needs to know what a good battle plan is…. this is it!

BATTLE PLAN IN RECOVERY:   TRUST GOD,  CLEAN HOUSE,  HELP OTHERS!

BUT DO NOTE:

It’s not a one time declaration, it’s a day by day, moment by moment work.

It’s doable.

Recovery is attainable.

 

PS. This is a good battle plan for every life in fact.

Trust God, Clean House, Help Others: Repeat.