Where Are We Now – Pt. 2
July 13, 2020
On December 6, 2019, I ended my call with my son with “I love you, I love you, I love you and will keep praying for you but you cannot call me anymore until you decide you are changing your life once and for all”. As I was hanging up, I could hear him yelling at me “don’t do this, they will kill me and it will be your fault”. That was one of many prison calls that ended this way. He had gotten in some serious drug debt and expected me to pay and up until that point, I had. In my head I believed his stories—he needed more food, more clothes, shoes—but deep down I knew better. He would even tell me horrible stories of other inmates that would be carried out on stretchers from the beat down they received because of drug debt. Truth or scare tactic, I will never know. Then I realized that he knew exactly what he was getting himself into when he acquired drugs HE could not afford. It was no secret in prison that drugs aren’t free. I prayed for peace. I prayed for healing. I prayed that God just take me. I couldn’t take one more call, one more day, one more minute of this. I would hang on to the little boy I once knew and I was determined that he was in there somewhere but I knew I would not live to see the recovery. I had convinced myself of that so I was ready to be done. My life was so lonely, so sad, so full of hurt and misery but no one could know that. I had a husband to smile for. I had 2 beautiful daughters that I needed to show up for. I had these grandkids I was blessed with. I had a job that demanded my full attention. I was exhausted. Please God take me from this, I am done. They will all be just fine. I was exhausted.
On December 6, 2019, he had “refused housing”. What that means in the prison world is you refuse to go back to your cell so they put you in solitary confinement. The reason you refuse is that you owe a debt you cannot pay and the people you owe are coming for you. When you run from your debt, you make it worse. I blocked his phone calls for 3 days. It was the hardest thing I had done in a long time. When I unblocked my phone on December 9, 2019 it immediately rang. At that point he was 2 days sober and feeling really bad so the words from his mouth were not good but I had heard the rantings of him detoxing before so I knew this too would pass. On December 26 I got a letter and by the Grace of God, it was the letter I needed. It was good and bad but mostly good. He was alive and mostly safe but would be in the hole for 60 days and no phone calls or visits. Page 1 went something like this:
“Mom I just want to start this letter off by saying that I love you. I’m sorry for all the pain and heartache that I’ve put you through—especially in the last two and a half months. I hate the way our last phone call went; I apologize for putting so much of this on you. You’re right, it wasn’t going to stop that Friday and I knew I needed to do something to remove myself from the environment I was in or the cycle was going to continue.”
The last line in this letter was, “My story isn’t over yet Mom, I promise”.
So much has happened but today he is in a different location, safe, happy (as an incarcerated person can be), clear headed, sober, full of hope. We study the Bible together and we are both grateful for the work that God has done in both of us. Because of his disciplinary actions, he has lost visits until at least November 2020 but of course during this global pandemic, I could not have seen him anyway. I miss him always. Even though we talk everyday, I want to hug my son, sit across a table and play scrabble, talk, laugh and talk about the grace and mercy of God. He will try and appeal for his visits but I will put it all in God’s hands since it is all there anyway. His Will be Done!
My son is right, his story is far from over but I have all the trust in the world that God has delivered my son from his affliction……I know the Plans I have for you says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans for a HOPE and a future. Jeremiah 29:11.
