Bjcorbin's Blog

I appreciate all of the prayers offered up on behalf of our friends Christian and Carleen, who I wrote about last week (03/06/2014) in my blog titled, “Back to the Edge of the Cliff”. As I mentioned in that article, Christian actually died and was revived several minutes later by his mother Carleen (who was formerly a Registered Nurse). While she offered no explanation for why her 21 year old son’s heart stopped suddenly, and blood came streaming from his mouth, those who know them would have to assume that these things were all the byproduct of a drug overdose, as both mother and son are addicted to heroin. The only real question would be whether it was intentional or accidental.

On a more personal note, it was somewhat surprising to hear that Christian was asking to see me, as we’d never been particularly close. Over the years of our friendship, most of my attention had been devoted to his mother and his two little sisters. Though I know that he appreciated those efforts it didn’t necessarily result in a deep bond between us. His biological father has never been a part of his life, and was already serving a 50 year sentence for attempted murder when Christian was a baby. Though I never sensed that he looked to me as any sort of father figure, I was blessed to hear that he wanted to see me, even though I had no idea what I should say. At first, the hospital prohibited visitors, but I eventually got the call that I could see him.

After much prayer, I felt that I just needed to let Christian dictate the conversation for a while, and to rely on the Holy Spirit to guide me. Though the initial minutes of our time together were awkward, we finally settled into a relaxed conversation about nothing in particular. After an hour and a half of this small talk, I was wondering if this was really what God wanted, but Christian seemed to be engaged, so I just continued to roll with it. Then, after a brief interruption by one of his nurses, he suddenly turned back to me and calmly said, “You know that I was trying to end it?” While I wasn’t quite prepared for that, I tried not to give away my surprise; and without any discernible emotion, he proceeded to tell me the story of how he decided to end his life and what he did to execute that plan.

I have to admit that it was chilling to hear how little regard he had for himself, or for his family who witnessed these things. Sadly, his 13 year old sister was the one in the room when blood started issuing from his mouth and his heart stopped beating. In her young life she’s already been an eyewitness to her baby sister losing an arm to a lawn mower, and her father dying in their living room. Even worse is the fact that those events may not constitute the most horrific things she’s experienced, as she’s grown up in a house full of drug addicts. I have to admit that my heart was sick as I considered the carnage this family has known.

Within the story, there was a point where a window of opportunity seemed to crack open, as Christian admitted that he moved into the kitchen because he knew that no one would find him in the bedroom. As I asked about that, he disclosed that as the heroin quickly grabbed a hold of him, he had wondered if this wasn’t a mistake, and from there we spent the next couple of hours talking about fear, hope, suffering, eternity, God, religion, and life in general. I can’t tell you what, if anything, was accomplished in those hours, but it was as naked a conversation as I’ve ever had, and I sensed that it was exactly what both Christian, and God, wanted all along. Christian has a lot of questions, and I didn’t try to give him answers that I didn’t have. I think he appreciated that. I couldn’t help but think of the friends of Job, who cried with him for seven days, but then tried to explain what they didn’t understand. I did my best not to go there.

Looking back, I sense that he was sort of testing me. Would I even come; would I give up when things got inconvenient; would I preach at him; would I stay for more than 15 minutes; would I judge him; would I throw some tired religious platitudes at him; would I really care one way or another? When I finally had to go, he seemed to understand, but he sheepishly asked, “Can you come back tomorrow?” I guess that was his way of letting me know that it had all meant something to him too. As I went to leave I patted him on the shoulder, but despite being weak and full of IV lines / heart monitor wires, he insisted on getting up and hugging me. In that moment I could feel the utter void of love that this boy has ever experienced from a man who didn’t want something from him.

Our conversations in the days since have wavered between more small talk and the deeper issues that are going on in his life. Without us really addressing it directly, Christian decided that he wants to go to rehab at a local outreach ministry, if they’ll take him. At this point, he’s a risk even for the programs that were created to help people like him. And he’s opened up about his fears of being released from the hospital with nowhere to go, other than back to the life he’s always known. He seems to want to make a change, but he’s not sure he can do it, or exactly how to begin. From the outside it all seems pretty simple, but up close it looks nearly impossible. His mother has been the truest manifestation of love he’s known, and yet, her continued involvement in his life presents a real danger to his future. For Carleen, her kids have been her motivation to keep going, but her addiction now threatens their existence. Without the kids, will Carleen have an incentive to keep going? What if Christian needs a safe place to stay? Is it wise to bring him into my home with three teenaged kids? How will he feel if I’m not willing to do that? How far is God calling me to go with this? I’ve got all sorts of words, but talk is cheaper than ever in his world. This boy needs a miracle and only God can deliver it. Despite the encouraging events of the last few days, it’s still up in the air when it comes to tomorrow. Please lift this whole situation up in prayer, as apart from God, we can do nothing.