This post has been on my heart for the last several days since I saw my 20-year-old son who is currently in jail. He had a hearing and I was able to visit with him outside the courtroom. When we visit him at the jail, we only get to see him on a video screen. It was nice to talk, face-to-face, of normal things, while we waited. They even let me give him a hug when we left. I cried all the way home.
My heart at various times has felt a lot of different emotions over this young man. Love, hate, anger, indifference, you name it they have all been there. No matter what the emotion of the day is, I do care. I think he knows that. He came to our home through adoption with his sisters when he was nine and with all three it has been a rough road. He was labeled ADHD before he came to us and has since garnered many more labels. Coming out of the foster care system, his background includes abuse, neglect and many things the social workers couldn't name, failed to tell us or didn't know.
He has been in and out of our home more times than I can count. He was in a group home at 17 and came home again at 18. He has been in two rehabilitation facilities. One he walked away from, another he was kicked out of. He never finished high school although we tried to walk him down that path. He has never held a job. He has been in jail for almost a year for the choices he made...mostly substance abuse. In the end, he was caught with drugs.
When I look into his eyes I don't see hate or anger although he has plenty of that swirling around. I see hurt and disappointment in himself. He wants to get his act together. He wants to come home. I struggle with that. He can't come home. I'll help him all I can but I can't trust that things have changed. He can't prove to me that it will be different this time. His proof is just words. We are at a crossroads.
Some think that we should treat him like the prodigal in the Bible. The story tells of the prodigal son who left home and squandered his inheritance. At his lowest point when he was hungry and destitute he decided he was tired of seeing the pigs eating better than he was. He returned home hoping to get a job as one of his father's slaves so he could at least be fed. His father welcomed him with open arms and even gave him a party. How do I justify my response? My son brings the pig pen home with him.
On a more positive note, I just signed him up to take his GED. He says he's been studying. I hope this is a good sign and a start to trusting again. Please pray for this prodigal son of mine. The courts have yet to determine what to do with him. He wants out. I can only hope they can find a place where he can seek healing and restoration in a safe environment.
