Missing Children

It is the third week of her job and day thirty-seven of her sobriety.  During the second week of her job, I could leave the house.  That first Monday, I made quick trips in the morning, hurrying to be back by her lunch at 11:30.  She has a half an hour lunch and after she eats her sandwich and banana, she walks around the building outside.  I think she said that four times around may be a mile.  Anyway, while she is walking we talk on the phone.  Each day last week, I made an effort to run errands while she was away.  I am letting go of my fears.  Having fears really means that you're not letting go of the past, so I am actively trying to leave my fears behind.  I am working on focusing on the now not the then or even the what ifs.  Today is good enough and I'm finding contentment in that. 

As I was running my errands last week, I was in a store where they have pictures of children who are missing stapled on a bulletin board.  At the top in big, black lettering is, "Have You Seen These Children?"  I stopped and looked at all of the faces.  Some have been missing for years and have an updated, this is what they might look like picture beside their original one.  Others are a few weeks old.  I thought of my daughter.  Thirty-seven days ago, my daughter was missing.  The happy, confident, sweet-natured child I raised, now grown, was missing.  She was missing for two years.  Though she would 'show up' for a while, she would also 'disappear' and go missing for days.  Anyway, that's what it felt like.  Looking at those smiling faces of missing children, that is what I thought about.  I thought about the pictures that were chosen for those fliers.  When the picture was taken, it was obvious by the child's expression that it was a happy time.  School, family experience, the expression of the child had no hint of the tragedy that was eventually going to take place.

Addiction in the family is very similar. Life is happening.  Everything seems normal and right and then a stranger--addiction--creeps in, hiding and waiting, ready to snatch way the person you love, and then your child is 'missing'.  They may come home okay.  They may come home weaker and damaged.  They may never come home leaving the family worried and wondering, "What happened?" 

I left the store grateful for having her back, again.  Though my guard has not left, it is not front and center and my hope is more present than it has ever been.  I am appreciating spending time with her.  Laughing with her.   Watching her make her lunch in the evenings for the next day. Buying bananas for her.  Making plans for the weekend.  Watching her develop a healthier routine.  We were driving to pick up my brother and take him to the airport on Saturday and there was someone telling her story of recovering from drugs on a Christian radio station I had on.  The girl said how the Holy Spirit had convicted her and one day she took one more shot and then flushed the rest down the commode. She has been sober ever since.  We talked about that. She made the comment that if the Holy Spirit had convicted her, why did she take one more?  I suggested that maybe human nature and old routines may have been an issue.  There was silence and then I asked her what made her stop?  She said,"I don't know. Something inside just turned off." 

Praying that something inside just turns off for all of our children lost in this struggle.