Aug
27
Substance abuse sounds so clinical. It sounds generic. After all, “substance” is a term large enough to capture a multitude of things. So generic in fact that it kind of sanitizes the whole reality of destruction that is present in say “heroin” addiction, or “meth” addiction or “cocaine” addiction or “prescription drug” addiction. We have this way of trying to create sanitized terms that take us out of the sphere of real pain that ripples out like shock waves when meth addiction takes over a mother or sister or best friend.
Try all you want to sanitize terms, addiction is neither tidy nor clean. And the reality of addiction is not remote. I was speaking with a nutritionist from the Department of Agriculture, during the last week. Our conversation turned to schools and the baked goods kids bring for their birthdays. “Sadly,” she said “Homemade baked goods are not allowed in many schools. I know of a school,” she continued “where an entire classroom of children was sent to the hospital with serious illnesses. It turns out that the cupcakes baked for a birthday celebration were baked in the oven which had also been used to cook methamphetamine.” This is a tragic picture on so many levels, but the image that stuck in my mind was of someone trying to wrest a shred of celebratory birthday normalcy out of a nightmare of addiction.
School started yesterday here in central Texas. Three college freshmen are in ICU tonight after a night of binge drinking and a three car collision that shattered several lives for years to come. This is not the picture of the “time of your life” that was prompted by the alcohol ads and upperclassmen who seemed so cool just yesterday.
The pain and chaos of addiction is not remote and neither is the path of involvement that is required of redemption.
There is no long distance pole for touching lives that are broken by addiction. Jesus did not spend his ministry figuring out ways to keep his distance. In fact, the scripture is surprisingly graphic about Jesus’ proximity to those in desperate need. He touches them, puts his saliva on them, goes to their homes, gives them his hands and heals them. Meet two grandmothers who are teaching three generations of their families what redemption looks like:
Florence lives in a home that is only 625 square ft., built in 1945; it suffers from a bad foundation, poor plumbing and a sagging roof. It is located in one of the poorest neighborhoods of her city. She has dedicated her home and the vacant-lot-turned-playground next door to “her kids.” You can find up to 30 kids there after school. These neighborhood kids are the children of parents on crack, families riddled by alcoholism and violence. These kids need a safe place, open whenever, with showers and beds and real food. Ask Florence and she will tell you “They need a garden, a place to really play, where they know they are loved and can be a kid. They need a place close by where every time they come, I am here, I am not on drugs or drunk – I am full of love for them.” Her next door neighbor says, “Yeah, Florence, finds the broken things in everyone and does her best to bring beauty bigger than pain.” Some of her kids have graduated high school, gone to college, come back to thank her on occasion like the returning leper coming back to Jesus. “God gives me love enough for all these kids,” Florence says sincerely, “I’m tired and some days I really feel the time, but I am not too old to love good.” Redemption – it’s work.
Meet Karenna. Karenna is 83. She is widowed and well off. Her life is filled with successes, friends and family. She is vital, living in her beautiful home and carefully watching her health. She has always been a paragon in her church and her husband was the beloved deacon of his era. She has a big family spread out over Texas and beyond. Out of her 17 grandchildren there have been the ups and downs and more than a fair share of health emergencies, but this year is different. Her granddaughter left medical school to enter a drug rehab program. After a successful college career, her dream of being a doctor is shattered on the grim realities of cocaine addiction. The rehab center is hundreds of miles away, but Karenna prayed to find a way to be a part of her granddaughter’s redemption. It would be easier just to let the parents deal with it, say a few prayers and worry, fret or scold. She could be the complaining grandma or the distant grandma or the grandma that was in total denial. But every Wednesday, Karenna gets in her car and drives to AlAnon. “I am just learning,” she says “You have to go at least 6 times just to get started.” But she is not the only one learning; her whole family is learning a lot about the effort that is required when love means what it says. Watch Karenna and witness redemptive love. She is willing to put 83 year old feet to her words and go weekly to join the other family members in AlAnon and say those famous word on behalf of her granddaughter, “Hi, I am Karenna….” There are pathways to healing but they are rarely traveled alone.
Redemption – it’s not a spectator sport.
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Suzii,
Well done in this article. Am saving it for a future Bible study lesson.
I have an article on eight liners to forward to you, but I do not know what email address to use.
All the best to you and Roger,
Bill