What Never Giving Up Looks Like
Today, I come to you to share a resent experience that no parent wants to experience.
A couple of years ago, my son decided to move out with some ‘friends’. I continued my mission of being a concerned parent. I reached out to him by calling him and texting him.
Eventually, those messages became void. He didn’t respond that often if at all. So, I would resend those same messages again. Those messages were messages of love, concern and not condemnation. Being human we want to judge, accuse and vent but, I choose to show unconditional love. During this time I was in a relationship with a man that I planned to marry. I honestly feel that my son thought he was being abandoned because, of all more poor choices that I had made in men. Eventually, I got married, we then combined households to where I was residing to complete the lease I was in. So, the pressure on my son was on him and his belongings. Even, though I said you can live here with us, but, I have not seen you for months. Eventually, my son and his friends came to pickup his stuff. As time went on I reached out to my son, trying to make time for him each and every week. Telling him let’s go out to eat, or do something you enjoy doing. I wanted my son to know he is loved and he can come to me anytime and I will be there for him. I mentored my son weekly if not daily.
Eventually, the poor choices caught up with him. He had tickets that he received when he was riding on his motorcycle, these tickets turned to unpaid tickets, court and work project that didn’t happened so it landed him in jail for a couple of days. During, his jail time, I asked God to grab a hold of my son and show him he is meant for more in life then the motorcycle club he was caught up in. My son was released from jail and his father picked him up. His father and step-mother went and saw him. I never went to see him. Why? Because, I didn’t want to see him in jail. I wanted him to feel the pain of someone not being present in their life.
We had lunch together a day or two later, where my son said to me, you don’t love me, if you did you would have come to see me in jail. I said, I love you but, I don’t want to see you there in that predicament. I felt I would be condoning his behavior, poor choices, by being there for him when it was too late. Or was it too late? I planned to go, then, I thought should I go see him? I wanted him to have this time to repent, and think about things the direction he was headed. I knew the time was not long lived (a couple of days). He shared with me that this was something he never wanted to experience again. He shared many more things with me.
I continued my mission of being a parent that loved, cared for and I still was concerned for my son. I continued to text and call him. One week when I had to travel out of town for work. I couldn’t sleep for two days. I kept having bad dreams about my son. Then, off topic my sister called me about health concerns for our mom. So, I texted my son about this…didn’t hear from him for a few days. Then, a phone call came in, where my son was on the other end asking for help. He was trying to self medicate due to a tragedy that took place at the age of 13 years old. My son was having withdrawals and having suicidal thoughts. I prayed for him and asked where he was at the time, he said I am on my way to you. I said, I can come get you. He said he was okay to drive, so we talked for a while on the phone. I continued praying that he would arrive safely to my doorstep and I prayed that he would follow through with getting help by heading to emergency when he arrived. I met him in the front of the house. He got out of the car and came and hugged me, cried, sobbed, shared his thoughts and his feelings. My spouse drove us to emergency.