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Good morning ya’ll. I pray that you have a tremendously blessed day today.
“(Love) always perseveres..”
Please don’t judge me and please don’t judge my family and please don’t judge my parents. You see we weren’t always like this. My parents, oh they were just the best parents for the better part of my life. Unfortunately, that all changed in what seemed like overnight. You see, my dad injured his knee at work which led him to be in excruciating pain for nearly a year before his insurance would allow him to have surgery for his knee, but by that time the damage had been done. My dad had become addicted to the pain medications. My mom, she tried and tried like crazy to stop him. She begged him. She prayed for him. She stayed by his side through every pain killer induced drug high and every crash and burn low, until she could take no more…and she joined him in his drug habit. I understood it best. Being the oldest of three children I was 15 when everything changed. When the bills weren’t getting paid, when my grandparents turned their backs, in hurt and betrayal, on my parents. Suddenly I went from being just a 15 year old freshman in high school to being the supporter of our entire family. I’d wake up every morning at 5:00am, get myself ready for school, wake up my younger sister and brother for school then I would pack their lunches and make them breakfast before rushing out of the door to try to make it to my own bus stop in time. When I got home from school I would run home, grab my work shirt and run back out to meet the city bus to my job as a cashier/bagger at the grocery store. Home by 9:00 or 9:30 at night I made sure my brother and sister had their homework done, showers done and pajamas on then I would see them off to bed. Then I would eat, usually a bowl of cereal or a can of tuna, do my own homework, shower and get in bed by 11:30. This went on for two years. My mom, in her momentary sober states, would see how hard I worked and how exhausted I was, and she would promise me that she was going to get clean and get our family back on track, but most days those promises usually fell to the wayside with mom and dad’s next fix.
By my senior year I was worn out, so were my siblings. I called my grandfather and asked if we could move in with them. Our mom and dad had been the best parents, but the devil known as drug addiction had seemed to win.
“Where did this all go so wrong?” My mom asked me as I worked packing my bags to go live with our grandparents.
Recognizing her stone cold sober state I grasped the opportunity to minister to my mom as she had done so many times for all of us whenever we faced challenges as children.
“It doesn’t matter where or when things went wrong, mom. What matters is what can go right from here on out. Pray with me, mom. Pray with me and together let’s let God win this war. Please, mom. We are strong enough to overcome this, and where we are weak, God will provide us His strength.”
I took my mother’s hand in mine as she sobbed uncontrollably. Together we prayed with all of our might. We prayed so long and so faithfully that by the time we stood up our legs hurt, but neither of us cared. We knew that ultimately our God would bring our family to victory.
As we packed up our bags to leave our home my mom blew through the door herself. She looked so frail, so weak and so spent, yet on her overly sunken in face a wide grin of true happiness brightened her face. With a new glimmer of hope in her eyes she announced, “I’m coming too. Please? I want you guys to drop me off at a rehab facility. I want my family back. Please?!”
I hugged my mom tightly as I thanked God that not one of my thousands of prayers I had spoken to Him had ever gone unheard.
Have a blessed day today
Love San 🤗