“He doesn’t mean it.” I stared blankly at my student. “He’s not doing this to hurt you,” she continued. “It’s out of his control, and he can’t help it.” I fought back my tears, trying to keep my composure so I could continue teaching art to my class of recovering addicts.
All this time I had been so angry at my son Tim for not being able to overcome his addiction. As those words sunk in, I realized I had misunderstood his struggle. This reframed Tim’s recent relapse for me. This felt different than all the other emotions I had previously experienced after his relapses. Now, all I felt was pity. My heart was broken for him, instead of because of him.
When I dreamt of having a family, I envisioned one that would resemble my upbringing – a close-knit unit where everyone got along, complete with a white picket fence. And we were, at first. My husband David and I had two boys and two girls, and we were a picture-perfect family. We raised our family in the church and Tim was our second eldest. He was baptized as a teenager, participated in mission trips, and my heart swelled with pride when he posted Bible verses on his social media.
After he turned sixteen and became a junior in high school, we noticed something was…different. We had just moved to a new town and Tim had left behind his friends and active social life. He seemed incredibly sad and apathetic to doing all of the things he used to love.
He slept so much, and next came the disrespectful tone and rebellious behavior, including repeatedly missing curfew. I knew something was wrong, so I considered finding a Christian counselor to talk to him so we could find out what was going on. I never would have suspected the true reason behind the change.
One day while going through his phone, I found a message about smoking pot with friends. With my hand shaking, I faced him with my husband. “Tim, we want to talk to you about what we found on your phone.” After our confrontation, he responded, “There’s nothing wrong with smoking pot. It’s going to be legal soon, and even my teacher says that smoking pot is better than drinking alcohol.” He was adamant: “I’m not going to stop.” This reaction left us stunned as Tim showed no remorse. I felt like the earth had separated and the ground had swallowed me up.
Our family life was turned upside down; I was devastated and cried every day. I was completely consumed by the pain and devastation as a result of my son’s drug use. Anger and bitterness grew in my heart, and I soon had malice in my heart for anyone or anything related to drugs, including my son. I could barely get out of bed and brush my teeth, let alone take care of my family.
Less than a month after the revelation of Tim’s drug use, an unsuspecting friend invited me to a social painting party at her house. Thankful for the distraction from the turmoil at home, I accepted and went to the party with a fake smile as if everything were ok.
Soon, I was so consumed by painting and realized two hours had passed without me thinking about Tim’s situation once. When I returned home, I immediately told David that I needed to get a paint set, even though I never painted before until that night. I knew I needed that release to survive everything going on at home.
We discovered Tim had been introduced to pot and alcohol by older students in our church’s youth group. He gave up his music and stopped attending church altogether. He was also getting in trouble at school and no longer wanted to play lacrosse or swim.
After we went to bed, he would sneak out of the house. Our rules went unfollowed and there was constant fighting. We soon realized Tim had progressed to heavier drug use and was battling addiction. He eventually dropped out of high school.
We tried to shield our other children from what was going on, but we were unsuccessful, and soon our secret spread to our extended family and friends. We were eventually shunned by the church family that we had been a part of for seven years. I felt betrayed by God since I never exposed my children to smoking, drinking, or drug use. I served Him faithfully, how could He let this happen?
I dove into the craft of painting, learning everything I could. It was the only thing that gave me temporary relief from the pain. With everything going on at home, I had to quit my job to focus more on my family. Honestly, I couldn’t function at work anyway. I began teaching paint parties to supplement our household income.
I didn’t realize it then, but God allowed me to earn an income doing the one thing that was so therapeutic for me. He hadn’t answered my prayer to take away my pain, but He gave me this gift of painting to help me cope with my distress. Interacting with Tim became extremely hard. I struggled between enabling and loving him. But it was just too much damage being inflicted on our family.
I begged God to deliver Tim, but it felt like He wasn’t listening, and things got worse. Tim began a cycle of detox, rehab, outpatient treatment, and eventual relapse. We began reaching out to so many people to pray for our son. One day while desperately praying, God responded, “You will minister to the drug-addicted.” I remember being stunned and actually stomping my foot as if to say, No, I absolutely will not.
When Tim turned 18, he moved out. After another year of fervently praying and barely surviving, out of the blue my phone rang with a stranger’s voice on the line. “I received your name from someone who attended your paint party and they observed how compassionate you were during the class. Would you be interested in teaching art at a rehabilitation center?” I countered, “What kind of rehabilitation center?” “A drug and alcohol rehabilitation center.” Stunned, I pulled over from driving, trying to control my breathing. I remembered the words God had spoken to my heart, and I replied, “Don’t call anyone else, I’m the right person for the job.”
I felt apprehension on my first day of teaching. As I walked into the classroom, I honestly didn’t think I was going to be able to relate to the painters because I had never had an encounter with an addict, except for my son. I introduced myself as the mom of an addict, which immediately broke the ice.
During class, I spoke to each student in the way that I wanted to speak to my son. I spoke encouragement and persuaded them that they were worth the hard work it takes to stay clean. I told them their mothers would sleep peacefully that night because they were there with me.
For two years, as I taught students who were battling addiction, I learned more about their struggles and the battle my son was going through spiritually and physically. During every class and conversation, God used other addicts to help me understand Tim’s behavior and choices.
Just when I thought God had forgotten about me, He knew exactly what I needed to hear. It was as if my students were speaking for Tim, letting me know all the things that he couldn’t or wouldn’t say. I’m sure I would have never received the same messages coming from him anyway.
Slowly, but surely, my heart started softening towards Tim, and for the first time, I felt compassion for my son. I realized that I didn’t understand addiction, but every conversation helped open my eyes. This was what I needed, instead of those support groups that never seemed to help me, and only made me feel worse.
I would come home and share with David what I learned in class each night, and we slowly opened our hearts and began rebuilding a relationship with our son. We learned to separate him from his hurtful behavior and decided to set up boundaries.
Tim was not allowed in our home, and there would be no financial support, except the occasional groceries we bought for him. Any time spent with him was in a public place, like a park, and he was not allowed to see our other children or take part in any family events, including birthday and holiday celebrations.
Despite all of our efforts, Tim relapsed again. Our family life was turned upside and I found myself losing hope. Again. If God wasn’t going to answer my prayers, maybe He would answer someone else’s. Over the years, hundreds of people have been praying for our son. I was desperate, as I battled the fear that I would lose my son forever. Tim was skin and bones; At 6’1” he only weighed 140 pounds. I begged God to either heal Tim, take him, or take me, and actually began to plan for his funeral.
A few months later, I felt a strong and desperate desire to spend time with Tim. I invited him to go on a drive with me, and he agreed. We took a scenic route to America’s Keswick, a Christian conference center run by recovering addicts. During the two-hour trip, we listened to what I thought was a random playlist of inspirational and Christian music, but in hindsight, I can unequivocally say it was a divinely inspired and curated sequence of songs.
Each song ministered to him, as they were mostly about being saved from sin, hope, and restoration. Upon our arrival, we drove through the property, passing various trees with encouraging scriptures nailed on them. I later found out that God was speaking directly to Tim’s heart through the music and signs.
Glancing at the carving on the next tree which read, I will restore the years the locusts have eaten, I encouraged Tim that no matter what has already happened, God could still restore his life. He sat quietly reflecting on my words, and tears rolled down his face with each new song that played.
Soon, we returned to the sober living house where Tim was staying. As we sat in the car, a song that played earlier, Reckless Love, was still heavy on my spirit. I shared with Tim about the parable of the one hundred sheep and how Jesus would come and find the lost one. “Tim, this is what today was about. You are that one sheep who Jesus loves, and He is calling you home.”
A few days later, we received a call from Tim. We noticed a change in his voice as he informed us that he finally wanted to give God a chance and that he would be entering a Christian recovery center.
Overjoyed, I cried out with thanks to God. I realized that even when I didn’t feel like He was with me, He showed me that He had always been paving the way to heal my heart. I have a relationship with God that I never would have experienced had we not gone through this addiction with our son.
Inspired by Tim, we began and run a ministry called Addiction’s Answer, where we serve, feed, hug, clothe, and help place the homeless and addicted people in the Kensington section of Philadelphia.
After 5 years of struggling with addiction, Tim graduated from Teen Challenge in July 2021 and has been clean ever since. He currently works as an electrician and just purchased his first house. More importantly, he walks with the Lord through his life and has found a home church where has begun serving the Lord through his music as well.
I know all of this is because of all the prayers that have been prayed for Tim since that first day when we discovered his drug use. Our story is a reminder that God hears every prayer, even when it doesn’t seem like He’s doing anything in response. He is. We just have to wait for His divine timing.
PRAYERS FOR MOMS:
Dear Lord and Heavenly Father,
I ask you, in the name of Jesus, to break the chains of addiction in the family of the person reading this. I pray their child is absolutely miserable and will want to stop and turn away from the drugs and sin.
I ask you Lord to do this by whatever means is Your will and for us to be ok with whatever Your will may be. I ask for your divine physical protection over their child until they turn to you, and you heal them. Until then Lord, I beg you to help this mom and her family during this time.
Lead each mom in your way and direct them in your path so they will know how to help their child. Bring healing in such a way that it will bring glory and honor to You, and that You alone will be known for the reason behind their child’s healing.
Break every chain of sin and addiction Lord, please hear my plea and my cry and have mercy on us, your children.
I ask these things in the mighty name of Jesus, Amen.
Connect with Heather and learn more about Addiction’s Answer at: http://www.addictionsanswer.org
Want to hear more of Heather’s story? Watch our Moms Night In conversation on YouTube:
Or watch here on our Faith-Filled Moms Facebook page.
Faith-Filled Moms 