Bjcorbin's Blog

I thought I’d provide one last update on the situation I’ve been dealing with (and blogging about) for the last couple of weeks [see “Back to the Edge of the Cliff” – 03/06/2014 & “Back to the Edge of the Cliff (Update)” – 03/12/2014].  As I last wrote about the situation, we were facing the fact that Christian (a 21 year old boy who had intentionally overdosed on heroin, and was clinically dead for several minutes) was set to be released from the hospital, and had nowhere to go for several days, as he awaited the opportunity to enter the drug rehab program he hoped to get into.  At that time I was wrestling with what role I should play, and trying to discern how far God was calling me to go to help Chris.  Though I had no doubt that the bond we’d formed while he was in the hospital was meant to help him to the next step, I couldn’t help but question the wisdom of bringing a potentially suicidal drug addict under the same roof as my wife and children.  Though I didn’t sense that Chris posed any direct threat to them, his frayed state of mind made the possibilities a little daunting.  

Despite a lot of prayers, I still wasn’t sure what to do when the hospital called last Wednesday to tell me that they’d be discharging Chris from the psychiatric wing that afternoon.  Though I’d called several places, each one presented hurdles that I couldn’t seem to overcome within the given timeframe.  By the time I arrived to pick him up, I had only one potential shelter for him to go to and that was contingent upon him passing a drug screening.  That seemed unlikely since he’d just ODed on heroin, and was being treated with narcotics while in the hospital.  Nonetheless, I believed that if it was meant to be, God would make a way for us.  The more immediate problem was that Chris didn’t have any clothes or ID, and that all of his stuff was at his mother’s house, where she continued to succumb to her own addiction.  As I pulled up to the hospital, the snow was flying and the wind chill was down into the single digits, but Chris was wearing a pair of jeans from the lost and found (several sizes too big and held together by a plastic wire tie), an old scrub shirt, and a pair of flip flops.  Though I gave him my coat, we headed directly to the store to get something to wear.  On the way I told him about the shelter, but he made it clear that if I didn’t want him with us, he could find something on his own.  At that point, I knew that his only chance to stay clean long enough to reach rehab was to take him in.  So after we got him some clothes we headed home.

For the next few days we did our best to keep him safe and calm.  Bekah (my 14 year old daughter) volunteered to sleep on the couch, so he could have a bed; while he, and AJ (my 14 year old son) took to playing on the X-Box.  Other than those few little breaks, Christian was pretty much my shadow.  Everywhere I went, he seemed to be right behind me, and we talked endlessly, about a myriad of topics.  He really seemed to be enjoying the dynamic of being one of our kids, and I must admit that I was surprised by how well things seemed to go.

Despite those positives, there was some underlying tension for me.  One was that I wound up taking the rest of the week off without any prior notice.  I wasn’t sure how well that would sit with my boss, and it was a bit of a drain on my already depleted vacation supply.  Another thing was feeling as though I needed to be accessible to him at all times.  Given the many demands on my time, it was hard to maintain any sort of real balance or routine.  While I generally won’t allow anyone to take precedence over Anita or the kids, for these days Christian was priority one.  While I knew that was probably necessary, it was somewhat unnatural and disconcerting to me.  As the days went on, he began to stay up after we all went to bed, which also made for some restless nights.

On the less subtle side of things, there were immediate challenges as well.  The first of those came from Christian’s mother, who took offense that I was the one he wanted to talk to in the hospital, and looked to when he got out.  That offense grew exponentially when she began to recognize that, to some extent, I was shielding Chris from her.  While I didn’t keep them from talking, I was painfully aware that Carleen’s continued addiction made her a threat to his sobriety, and I would not allow them to be alone together.  As the weekend progressed, her anger and frustration continued to build.  I also looked into the rehab program Chris was holding out for, and from the criteria listed on their website, it was apparent to me that he wasn’t going to qualify.  When I told him this, he insisted that he still wanted to try.  At first, I thought this was because he really wanted that program badly, but in hindsight, I realize that he was already having his doubts and that he was simply stalling for more time.  Though I didn’t immediately nix the idea of waiting until Tuesday (or walking all the way through this program’s process), I began to push Chris to come up with a Plan B and it became apparent that he really had no interest in that.  By Saturday, the Lord was really opening my eyes to the unseen reality of the situation, which was that Chris felt pretty comfortable with us, and that his desire to go through the whole rehab process was beginning to evaporate.  At that time, I still had no real alternatives to the program he was after, and I began to pray earnestly for God to light the path for us.

On Sunday morning we went to church and wouldn’t you know that our Pastor had previously scheduled one of the men from the congregation to speak in his stead that day.  And isn’t it just like the Lord that this man (& his wife) are both recently recovered heroin addicts.  Before the service even started, and before he even knew this man’s story, Chris confessed to me that he felt like he “could go either way today”.  After the man spoke, and as we waited to talk to him, he also shared that he had a strong sense that “this day could end badly or awesomely”.  When we did get to talk to this brother, he shared his story and gave us the contact information for the rehab he went through, which Chris could immediately get into.  Needless to say, I was ecstatic, as I felt as though the Lord had spoken to us loudly and had made a way for us.  Chris, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share my enthusiasm.  He suddenly became very sluggish and non-responsive in our conversations, and for the first time, he began to leave my side, in favor of hanging out with the kids.  After we ate lunch, he even called his mother and invited her to stop by the house.  When she came by, I made sure that I was there, and I could tell that neither of them felt as though they could say what was on their mind.  His mother glared at me and after an awkward silence, decided to leave.  At this point, I knew that the tide had turned and that Chris’ heart wasn’t truly committed to rehab anymore.  Though he wanted to be free of the addiction, he wasn’t necessarily willing to go through the process to get there.  I also believe that if I hadn’t rudely inserted myself into that meeting, Chris may well have gotten in the car with his mother and headed home.

For the rest of the evening I kept Chris close to me and pressed him about what he really wanted.  I knew that we running out of time and I tried hard to get him to commit to heading up to the facility that night; but that same non-committal lethargy seemed to keep washing over him.  It was after midnight before I headed to bed, and I told him that the following day (i.e. Monday) was going to be D-Day.  Anita was going to stay with him throughout the day and I mentioned that he needed do his laundry, so we could pack him up and take him to rehab after dinner.  He didn’t really say much to that and I wondered if he might leave in the night.  But instead he spent all night playing video games and was still awake when I got up for work in the morning.  He finally fell asleep before I got the kids off to school, and sleep for most of the day. 

Not surprisingly, when I got off of work, I found that his mother had blown up my cellphone, and seemed desperate to reach him.  Just as the Spirit in me was letting me know that we were running out of time, so were the spirits in her.  When I got home, he hadn’t done the laundry and was in that same sort of stupor.  When his mom finally called the house and spoke to him, she wanted to know when he was leaving, where he was going, and most importantly, whether there would be a time when he’d be at the house by himself.  Christian’s low ebb, and lack of commitment to the plan I had laid out the night before, caused him to give her vague answers, which made it seem as though nothing had been decided yet.  Ultimately, I believe that those conversations convinced her that she didn’t really need to stop by for another heavily monitored conversation and that she still had some time.  After we ate dinner, and the laundry was dry and folded, I told Christian that it was now or never.  That if he didn’t make this commitment now, that he wasn’t likely to make it.

My old pastor used to say, “You need to seize the opportunity of a lifetime within the lifetime of the opportunity”.  I’m not sure if that was his or whether he read that somewhere, but it has always stuck with me.  There at the table, I laid it all out for Chris, reminding him of all the ways God had spoken to us both in the last few days and of the spiritual battle that was raging all around him.  I told him that the enemy of his soul wanted this to seem like a really complex decision, but that it was really a very simple one.  I explained that he was at a crossroads and that there were only two paths he could take.  One was a road he was intimately familiar with; it was in fact the road he grew up on, and the one that ultimately led him to take his own life.   And while the other road was one he’d never travelled, it was the only other alternative.  I let him know that it was alright to be afraid of what he didn’t know, but that he couldn’t let that fear drive him down the road of death.  I told him that if he didn’t feel strong enough to cross over this threshold, I was willing to carry him across if he’d let me.

I wish I could say that there was some big emotional bang, but he simply stared at me blankly.  After some uncomfortable moments of silence, he finally asked, “Do I have time for a shower before we go?” and I told him that he did.  It took awhile to get him out the door and even longer to get him in the door at the rehab, but late last night he finally took that first step down this new path.  He’s going to need to take a bunch more steps if he’s ever going to be truly free, but I can’t help but be incredibly grateful for this first one.  I’m not sure his mother will ever forgive me for “taking away her son”, but the truth is that I loved her enough to protect him from her.  I know that the mother in her wants him to get well, but the addict in her didn’t want to give up her partner in crime, and at least for now, the addict seems to be in charge.  More than ever, this family needs our prayers.  There are still two young (ages 10yrs & 13yrs) daughters living with this addicted mother, and I feel certain that God is about to deal with that situation as well.  Ultimately that will be a different chapter in this story.  Today I want to thank God for His faithfulness and patience.  Apart from Him, we are all profoundly lost!