Monday, July 9, 2012

My Passion....

I'm not sure how many people know this about me, I don't think even all my closest friends know what my true passion is. My mom and Brent are the only ones I can remember talking in depth about it with. 

 I feel very lead to work with recovering Drug addicts.

I guess I kind of used to be ashamed to admit what I really wanted to do with my heart. I'm not sure the true reason I would be worried what people thought of my work, I guess I thought they would think it was a degrading job or that why would a nice girl like me with a nice job want to work with such people. But I guess since becoming an "adult" (I say that with a huge smirk on my face ha!) I feel really ok about sharing it.

I know exactly where and when my heart changed.

In high school and my one year of collage (ha!) my boyfriend had a really bad addiction problem. Our relationship started before he became involved in drugs but over our 3 years together he became very reliant on them. It was all he thought about and it was taking over his life and mine right along with it. I stayed with him for about a year after finding out about his problem I wanted to help him and see him though it and I did anything and everything that my young and immature self could.
I didn't tell my mom about his problem, I didn't tell my friends I was embarrassed and ashamed of him. I fought his demons alone and looking back that probably wasn't the best thing to do,  but I was so young and dealing with things I hadn't even known existed. I don't want to go into the awful details about our relationship but felt the background was needed.

His mom and I really tried to help him. I would go to NA meetings with him a lot and I remember learning so much, I loved going to those. At one point his mom called the police on him to get him put into rehab, looking back as a mother I cannot imagine having to get to that point but she knew he needed help and he wouldn't go on his own. Once he was placed in rehab I remember life got so much better! I was alone yes but the worry that he brought to my life was gone too. I was loyal to him and very committed to being on the other side with him after his time in rehab. While he was there his mind cleared and we got to talk on the phone and I sent him cards and I felt in a long time we were both truly happy.

Half way though his stay we (his mom, brother and me) got to go for family visit day one Sunday afternoon. This is where I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach by someone. He was at a local facility that was actually a huge old house. It did not feel sterile, it felt like someones home. We walked in and had to sign in and were led down the hall, where I remember seeing a guy caring a laundry basket, to a big living or maybe a better word would be meeting room. It had lots of chairs some were big and comfy like a regular living room chair others were just old metal folding ones which I'm guessing were put out just for that day. It felt good and I remember thinking how this place was not scary as I had imagined. We had to watch a video and take part in a enabler counseling session, which I loved I always loved learning about the disease that these people had and how family and friends can help them. After that we got to see him. I remember he looked so good, so healthy and happy and strong and I was so proud of him. We got to visit for a long time and after that, the day was over. With tears I remember walking out of that home and being so changed and happy and I remember thinking this is why I am here on this earth. I have such a heart for these people I hope one day I am given the chance to work in a place just like this.

As I sit here today typing this I cannot believe I remember everything about that day, the colors of the walls and chairs, the smell of the house, the layout of it, how he looked and what shirt he was wearing, how I felt.

Needless to say it did not work out between him and I. He got out of rehab and was ok for a while but relapsed pretty quick. He tried other ways of help but nothing ever worked and one day I was done. I was never mad at him nor have I ever hated him I just didn't have anything left to give him so I walked away. I pray for him often and hope he has found his place in this world.

I heard a song on the radio this morning about addiction "A Team" by Ed Sheeran and all those feelings came rushing back I felt I had to write about it.

This long post to say I have not forgotten my true passion, my life is so full right now and my mind has been completely full these past 2 weeks I can't believe this is wanting to take up space in there too! ha! If that makes any sense. I know it is God telling me not to give up and I am glad I was reminded of this and I truly hope once all my kiddos are had and in school I can really find somewhere that can use me for what I have to give.

If you are still reading this long post, you deserve a cookie!! ha!

One more thing, I used to think since I didn't have any "real" talents you know singing, dancing, a way with words, or smarts in a certain subject that maybe God forgot to give me something but since that day I've known what I am supposed to be doing it's getting there that will be the hard part......

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