A few weeks ago, my husband Dan began volunteering at a horse rescue farm. Each time he came home, he described the animals, and his  excitement at working with them was contagious.

I joined him one Saturday as an observer, knowing I would keep my distance from the horses. One of the volunteers explained some basic horse body language. “When their ears are straight up, you should be okay to touch them. But if their ears are lying back, stay away.” The most important instruction he gave, “Stay away from the back end of the horse. You might get kicked.”

The next weekend found me alongside Dan cleaning the watering troughs. He scrubbed and I commandeered the garden hose. He moved on to mucking the stalls. I continued filling the containers. The pungent smell of horse manure was too overwhelming for my sensitive city girl nose.

Rob, a long-term volunteer, brought me a bucket of fresh-picked grass to feed Shanti, a Chestnut  standing near me. “Here, she’ll love this,” he said.

“You mean, I’m supposed to feed this to her out of my hand?”

“Of course. She won’t bite.” He turned and walked away, leaving me with a handful of grass and a bucket overflowing with the green horse snack. Her ears were straight up, so I assumed I was safe.

Shanti took the grass from my hand and then plunged her head right into the bucket, chomping her way through the verdant offering. She stopped chewing long enough to look me straight in the face as if to say, “Thank you, friend.”                                                                                                                                                                           

I am way out of my comfort zone at the rescue farm. I’m not sure how valuable my services will be to the owner or to the horses. But I’m going back, willing to make a difference in the horses’ lives. Most have a history of abuse and neglect. Their remaining years will know comfort, care and love, even from a city slicker like me.

We often find ourselves outside our comfort zones with those we love, figuratively and literally. We venture into dangerous neighborhoods looking for our child or spouse. The emotional ups and downs of life with an addict take us into uncharted waters on occasion: anger, depression and hopelessness.

What do we do with these people we love?

Sometimes we can only give them something to eat and drink. Other times we can provide respite shelter. Helping locate treatment options can present opportunities for sober and clean living. Treatment facilities are much like the horse rescue farm in that they provide a place for people who’ve been tossed and turned, usually by their own choices, and need a place of healing and restoration. We do what we can to assist them and pray they plunge head long into recovery much like Shanti dove into her feeding bucket.

Stepping outside our comfort zones can save lives. Are you willing to move out of yours?

Blessings and hope for today.

 

Tags: comfort zone

, family addiction , family recovery , horse rescue farm , recovery
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The tide’s pull lured the seashore farther into the Atlantic Ocean. Shells littered the beach like popcorn on a movie theatre floor. The sun hung its morning rays over the clouds, pulling itself into a new day, casting its brightness across the water’s glassy surface. Another spectacular sunrise to display God’s handiwork.

Too bad I didn’t see it. My husband described the beach to me upon his return from an early-morning walk. I saw the sunrise through his eyes—a secondhand view of what he saw, felt, smelled, and heard. It was his experience, not mine.

My husband purposed in his heart each morning to rise early and drive to the beach. He designed  time alone with God. He had a plan, and he worked it.

Sometimes our loved ones experience recovery the way I did the sunrise, through someone else’s eyes. Our sons, daughters, or spouses hear about 12-Step groups, treatment centers, and changed lives but never set foot on the beach of recovery. Perhaps they lack motivation to start climbing out of the hole they’re in. Or finances are tight and a treatment center costs too much. Whatever the reason, they will never experience the thrill of taming the restless waves of addiction while standing still. Those we love will be a bystander on the shore, watching their lives ebb away like an evening tide.

Encourage your loved one to develop a plan, the first step toward recovery. Pray for them to desire a life without the dragnet of addiction overwhelming every waking moment. If appropriate, assist in constructing a way out of the current situation.  Then step back and let your loved one dive in and swim to a new shore.

Each sunrise brings with it the promise of hope, fresh starts, and successful endings.

Blessings and hope for the day.

 

 

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Looking around the waiting room, I knew what half of the folks did the night before. I knew they were hungry and probably suffering with a caffeine headache because that’s how I felt. The other half was there to drive their spouse or friend home.

What had brought this group of folks together at 7:45 in the morning? The dreaded colonoscopy.

My name is called, and I walk through double doors to a curtained space containing a bed and an IV pole. On the bed lies a plastic bag for my clothes and a folded hospital gown.

“Hello, I’m Ashley, and I’ll be your nurse today. Have a seat, please, while we go over your information.” Throughout the pre-op area, nurses are heard asking the same questions to their respective patients, “Did you prep last night? What did you use? Did you take all of it?”

She finished the questions and set up my IV. “Okay, time to go,” the nurse said as she rolled me to the procedure room. The doctor came in and said, “Hello and good night.”

I promise there is a tie-in to recovery in all of this. Let’s look at some similarities.

• Common experiences
• Different preparations—same results
• Need for assistance
• Varying outcomes—positive and negative

As each new patient and companion came into the waiting room, we all knew why they were there and what they had done prior to coming. The same is true with 12 Step groups. When new people attend their first meeting, everyone else knows the reason they walked through the door and are aware of what they’ve done to bring them to the meeting.

Doctors use different stimulants for bowel preps. Some prescribe drinking a gallon of vile tasting stuff. Others prescribe a pill that does the job. My doctor no longer recommends the nasty-tasting product, so I handled drinking my gallon of solution much better this time. But whatever is used, the result is the same—clean-as-a-whistle insides.

Recovery fits here too. Different modalities have varying outcomes. What is good for one person may not be good for another. A doctor or counselor often has.preferred treatments but will try various methods to suit individual clients. The result—sobriety—is hopefully achieved regardless of which program an addict uses.

Because the patient receives anesthesia, someone must be available to drive him or her home. The same is true for addicts and families in recovery. Both need support during the journey out of addiction. Support can be in the form of 12 Step groups, private counseling, IOP (intensive outpatient program), residential treatment, and something as simple as a ride home.

Thankfully my test yielded a positive report, but some of the patients received not-so-good news. The man to my left was told to come back next year and repeat the test because a problem was detected. After the nurse left, he told his wife, “I’m not doing this again. I’m not coming back.” Recovery carries mixed results as well. Some addicts latch on to lifestyle changes and move forward with their lives, a positive outcome. Others relapse time and again. We all know addicts who refuse to take offers of help and regretfully lose their lives to their addiction

As you and your loved one process through sobriety, remember it’s not a one-size fits all course. Find what works for you and live each day in successful recovery.

Blessings and hope for the day.

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Today’s post is by a writer friend of mine, Gil Gonzalez.

Gil is an author, writer and blogger. Originally from Miami, Gil now resides in Tampa, FL, with his wife Lee and his two children. Gil is an alumnus of Tulane University, and is also an avid sports fan, tech geek and music lover. You can find his collection of blog posts, poems, and miscellaneous ramblings at danaCreative.net

 

 

MADE OF CLAY

 

As I sit on my pedestal

A jar made of clay

I invite the danger

As I swing and I sway

 

The thrill, the allure

The precarious play

For I am hardened and cured

One tough jar made of clay

 

I think of myself

Every hour, every day

I want what I want

And I want it my way

 

The cautions are many

I ignore what they say

For I’ll do what I will

And I’ll do what I may

 

And then there’s a slip

My confidence gives way

And gravity pulls hard

And I fall in dismay

 

I shatter in pieces

With consequences to weigh

Broken and scattered

My soul in decay

 

How humble it feels

To see dreams fade away

How broken it feels

To dread the next day

 

But hope’s not exclusive

It’s His gracious forte

A gift He bestowed

Once I managed to pray

 

His hands did caress

My now shattered display

And put back together

What I dared throw away

 

Renewed and redeemed

Is my story today

Cured through His love

Is my new jar of clay

Tags: clay jar

, recovery , shattered dreams
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“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your road and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4 (NIV)

I was asked to speak at a chapel service on verse four of the 23^rd Psalm based on Phillip Keller’s book, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23. The book isn’t a philosophical treatment of the beloved psalm, nor is it a dissertation explaining derivations of words based on ancient manuscripts. The psalm is explained through the eyes of a real-life shepherd. He brings the six verses to life based on his experiences herding sheep.

A large part of the shepherd’s job involves going before the sheep to prepare the area. He inspects the ground for poisonous grasses that could harm the sheep. He scouts the area to determine what kinds of predators lurk nearby waiting to kill the sheep. He doesn’t want to be caught unaware.

The beauty of this verse rests in the first phrase, “I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The sheep know their shepherd cares for them and protects them from harm. He doesn’t leave them alone in the wilderness. This knowledge releases their fear.

Can we, as parents, guide our children to safe environments like a shepherd leads his sheep? Yes and no. Unlike sheep, our children have the freedom of choice to make their own decisions. Sheep do wander away from the flock and the shepherd brings the errant sheep back to the others. Our children sometimes wander away and we do our best to restore them to the family.

Sometimes our wanderer refuses rescue attempts and plunges off a cliff. Other times he or she responds to the beckoning and comes home. I think for many of our drifters, the knowledge that we are with them, emotionally and spiritually, brings them comfort and lures them back to us.

When our son was in treatment, the constant memories of our love kept hope alive. He wanted to be restored and reclaimed by our family. He knew that in spite of his poor choices, we were with him; he wasn’t alone.

Consider ways in which you can instill “I am here with you” for your loved one.

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Sacrifice.

What images come to mind at the mention of the word? Blood, screams of agony, death?

As a noun, sacrifice is defined by Merriam Webster as “the offering of something precious to deity, loss, deprivation.”

The verb form is defined “to offer up or kill as a sacrifice, to accept the loss or destruction of for an end, cause or ideal.”

In her gut-wrenching book. When I Lay My Isaac Down,

 author Carol Kent lays open her family’s ordeal surrounding her son’s arrest, trial, and conviction for murder. On October 24, 1999, he shot and killed his wife’s ex-husband. Two families sacrificed with a single bullet.

Carol and her husband operated in both the noun and verb forms of the word. Through no choice of their own, they offered up something precious, their only son, a young Naval officer with a promising career, to loss and deprivation.

The verb form came as a conscious decision to accept the loss or destruction for an end, cause, or ideal. Carol and Gene, with eyes wide open, reluctantly accepted the destruction of their son’s life. She almost lost her sanity as she went through the arrest and oft-delayed legal process in Orlando, Florida. The yo-yo pull of court proceedings added fuel to an already raging emotional inferno. But in the face of unimaginable circumstances, even in this as she says, Carol and her husband remained faithful to their faithful God.

For those of us with a child, spouse, or other family member making poor choices, sacrifices will come. We won’t heave their bodies onto a slab of concrete and plunge a knife through their hearts, but we put our own hearts on the emotional cold slab.

I cannot sacrifice my loved one’s dreams. I can only sacrifice mine. It’s the verb form of the word, to offer up something precious to loss and deprivation. Holding each of my children as newborns, early morning feedings allowed my imagination to run wild with anticipation for the precious life cuddled in my arms. Would she be a teacher? Would he grow up to be a fireman? Would she be a doctor? Choices outside my control forced sacrifices.

Is this your story? Sacrificed dreams for your child or spouse? What do we do with the loss and pain?

In her book, Carol talks about Lisa Beamer whose husband was a hero of 9-11 and Gracia Burnham, who, with her husband Martin, was captured by Filipino terrorists. Martin was eventually shot and killed by the band of terrorists.

Carol says, “Both of these stories inspire me. I’m not Lisa Beamer. And I’m not Gracia Burnham. I’m just a mom who has experienced a huge crisis with her son. But hearing the experiences of these women who have had great losses and traumatic transitions in their lives gives me hope that I, too, can make it in a world where everything doesn’t turn out according to my expectations and dreams. Even if there is no happy ending to my family’s story, other people who have experienced redemption in the midst of devastation help me find the strength to say, ‘I, too, will lay my Isaac down. I will refuse to try to explain away the pain in the world. I will not succumb to the temptation to quit sharing my story with others. I will embrace the One who loves me more than I love my Isaac.’”

What do we do with our pain? We accept it for what it is. We own up to our part in the problem within our homes. We seek help from others through 12 Step groups and/or a counselor.

As you ache your way through whatever sacrifice you face, may you find comfort in embracing the One who cares for your loved one more than you.

Blessings for the day.

 

Tags: addiction

, Carol Kent , family , Lisa Beamer , murder , recovery , sacrifice
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Isn’t it just like God to use the ordinary to introduce the extraordinary?

Mary and Joseph traveled many miles to register for a census in Joseph’s home town. Mary rode a donkey or some sort of work animal because she was due to deliver Jesus and couldn’t walk the trip. A humble, non-descript animal transported the King of Kings to his delivery room—a lowly manger.

Years later, when Jesus entered Jerusalem before his crucifixion, he sat astride a donkey. The Jewish people anticipated a mighty warrior, one with a mission to destroy the heavy hand of Roman rule. They expected a regal horse, adorned with an ornate leather saddle, feathered plumes, and other royal adornments to bear the king to his followers. Jesus turned their expectations upside down as he made his entrance, not as a military ruler, but a teacher.

Again, I ask, “Isn’t it just like God to use the ordinary to introduce the extraordinary?” How many people have come into your life, not in a Ferrari or Rolls Royce, but in a Toyota, Dodge Pickup, or maybe a Harley Davidson motorcycle and turned your world upside down with their kindness and love? They met you at the time of your greatest need and changed your life.

Using the mundane things of the world to get our attention is God’s specialty. Perhaps you’ve been at a low spot in your life, thinking no one cared whether you lived or died, and out of the blue someone offers a kind word, pays for your meal, or buys your groceries. Ordinary events in the hands of an extraordinary God become unexpected blessings.

As you consider a recovery lifestyle, glimpses of the extraordinary will make their way into your life. The gesture of a simple “hello” at a meeting may be the tipping point for an addict deciding if going to a meeting is worth the effort. An ordinary greeting becomes an extraordinary incentive for making a right choice.

Avail yourself of commonplace opportunities believing God for extraordinary results.

Blessings for the day.

 

 

 

Tags: addict

, donkey , extraordinary , king , recovery
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Our oldest grandson, Kody, is a baseball player. He eats, breathes, and dreams baseball.

In the early days of his playing, he didn’t hit well. On many occasions he struck out on his own, missing pitch after pitch. Other times, the three strikes and you’re out call was announced as pitches flew across the home plate and his bat remained fixed in place. Each time Kody slunk back to the dugout, disappointment evident on his young face.

His parents hired a batting coach to help Kody out of his slump. The coach saw the potential in him and together they worked on his nemesis—connecting the bat with the ball. I’m not sure of all the coach’s instructions, but one simple technique changed Kody’s batting average.

The coach told Kody to pull the collar of his shirt to his mouth and hold it between his teeth. Kody’s main problem was lifting his head too high as the ball approached. Chewing on his shirt forced his head into the right position, and, almost overnight, he started hitting the ball with consistency and power. As a matter of fact, he has a display of nine game balls for home runs, one of which was a grand slam! His shirt-chewing earned him the nickname “Chewie.”

Okay, here comes the usual question, “What does this have to do with recovery?” Using Chewie as our example, let’s look at a few recovery tie-ins.

• Persistence – Kody didn’t give up on the game, even when he didn’t play well and connect with the ball.
• Expert help – Kody’s parents sought assistance  from an expert, someone focused on the end result—better batting skills
• Teachable spirit – Chewie took the advice of his coach, an experienced ball player, and enjoyed successful results.
• Out-of-the-box thinking – Kody tried something that appeared weird at first but it worked.

For the addicted loved ones in our lives, the same traits apply.

• Persistence – Don’t give up on your loved one, hang in there, even though another relapse occurs. That doesn’t mean allowing yourself to be manipulated, but continuing to love and lend support, even if from a distance.
• Expert help – You may need to enlist the services of an addiction counselor to walk your family through the finer points of recovery.
• Teachable spirit – Pray that your addict has a heart to listen to instructions from veterans of recovery, those with many years of sobriety and clean time. As family members, we also need pliable hearts to learn new ways to interact with our addict.
• Out-of-the-box thinking – Taking a new approach with your addict may be what helps turn his or her  life around. It’s obvious what’s been done in the past hasn’t worked, so what do you have to lose? Who would think chewing on his shirt could help Kody hit a baseball?

By practicing and remaining in the game called recovery. chances are good you and your loved one will hit a recovery home run.

Batter up!

 

Tags: addicts

, baseball , family , home run , recovery , relapse
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MCDONALDS. CHICK-FIL-A. CRACKER BARREL. HOLIDAY INN EXPRESS.

On a recent trip to visit our daughter in South Carolina, billboard invitations tempted my husband and me with food, lodging, gas, and myriad products and services. They lured us with expectations of met needs.

When we see the iconic black and white cow encouraging patrons to “eat more chikin,” we know what we’ll find at the Chik-Fil-A restaurant. A cashier greets each customer with a smile and asks, “How may I serve you today?” Most people say thank you when receiving their order and the clerk responds with, “My pleasure.” The employees are neat in appearance, friendly in demeanor, and seem genuine in their care for customers. My expectations of excellent service and a great chicken sandwich are met regardless of which restaurant I visit.

Billboards translate into our lives. Our actions, language, and activities are our billboards. What message do we send on a daily basis? When someone hears our name or sees us in a crowd, what descriptors come to mind? Gracious? Loving? Harsh? Hypocritical?

For those in the 12 Step rooms, recovery billboards show how well the steps are worked. Have amends been made? Is service to others happening? Are attitudes about using and recovery changing? The message of changed lives entices those who are famished and thirsty for a new life, just like a McDonald’s billboard invites travelers on an interstate to visit the Golden Arches.

How do family members proclaim their recovery messages? The ways in which we respond to our addict speaks volumes to those outside the family circle. Setting proper boundaries demonstrates support of our loved one without enabling past behaviors. Whether we realize it or not, we’re watched. Struggling families often look to us veterans for inspiration and encouragement. We can help them figure out ways to live a positive recovery lifestyle by demonstrating it with our addicted loved one.

Our lives are our billboards. What’s our message?

 

Tags: addiction

, billboards , family , recovery
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Company was set to arrive at my house at any minute. “Oh, great, I should have dusted and vacuumed the living room over the weekend,” I muttered to myself.

I grabbed a cloth and gave the furniture a cursory swipe and headed to the closet for the vacuum. I fired it up and began the back and forth strokes across the rug. “Hmm, what’s with the trash still on the floor?” I checked the cylinder and found the familiar swirl of hair and grit, but pieces of leaves, threads, and other tiny flecks of litter remained on the carpet.

A fine spray of dust filtered out of the vacuum, falling on my freshly dusted furniture.  I didn’t have time to stop and investigate its source, so I continued cleaning, ignoring the coating of grit. As I put the vacuum cleaner away, I discovered the dust-spraying culprit. The hose had worked loose from the base—it wasn’t fully connected to the suction/power source. The dust was coming out as fast as the vacuum sucked it up.

Many times in our lives we go through the motions, cleaning up areas of our lives, only to find the dust and dirt comes back—all too soon. Could it be we are not securely connected to our power source?

For those in recovery, the power source can be a Higher Power or the God of one’s understanding, the recovery rooms (NA, AA, SA, GA, OA), and  a sponsor. For family members, the power sources are similar to our addicts. We can participate in 12 Step groups, have a sponsor, and a relationship with the God of our understanding.

The need for connection to our spiritual power source doesn’t require an addiction or disease. It’s our human condition that drives the necessity for plugging in to the life-giving power God freely offers. Daily inspections of our connections—prayer, scripture, and meditation— assure us we’ll have the necessary power to “suck up” the dirt that comes into our lives.

Whether vacuuming floors or living life, having a fully connected energy source is essential for full powered results.

Blessings for the day.

 

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