Dear Friend,
Today I am rejoicing with you. You posted a picture of your son smiling. He’s seated at a table and is looking up with his head cocked, like you’ve called his name and caught him in a candid moment of joy.
The simple smile on your twenty-something son is a victory! I’m almost in tears thinking of your caption: “Let the healing begin.”
You’ve shared snippets of your journey and his throughout the years. You would post letters to him online—perhaps for him but maybe for you? You spilled your mama’s heart for his wellbeing, letting him know there was a way out—a light however dim off in the distance.
We read your open mail tossed on the kitchen table. Your anguish was displayed for all to see: “I saw you again today on the streets, Max. I asked if you wanted a meal. You were too strung out to respond.”
Another time, he did allow you to buy him lunch, but back to the streets he hobbled afterward.
With each heartbreaking letter, you reveal your attempts to help your son. For years, some offers of aid are rejected and others are accepted. But most of the time, the “no” is louder than the “yes.”
No to rehab. No to housing. Yes to cold winter nights in the rain. Yes to substances that temporarily numb the pain.
You. Wow, you. You held out hope. You told him that if you can overcome addiction, he can, too. You held out one thousand yesses.
And today came the “yes” from your son. Yes to your prayers. A Yes to your heart of hope for him.
Your powerlessness has transformed by prayer into a powerful force of “Yes, you can, son. I am here, and you can do it.”
Friend, you didn’t have to let us in on your journey. But as we, your community, witnessed the dark winter nights and lifted up silent prayers for you and Max. We joined you in the agony.
And today, we join you in the rejoicing. In the new season for Max. And we will continue to walk with both of you.
In hope,
Melana
Note: Max's name has been changed.
Ponder. Pray. Practice.
Describe a time when you had to hold out hope for a breakthrough. What emotions came up for you through that season? Who walked through it with you? What did they do to show their support?
When a situation looks dire, does that drive you to your knees in prayer or do you seek relief elsewhere?
In the Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones, she paraphrases Paul writing in Romans 8: “‘God loves us!’ [Paul] wrote from prison. ‘Nothing can ever—no, not ever—separate us from the Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love of God he showed us in Jesus!’” Max’s mom showed him this type of “Never Giving Up Love.” How can we demonstrate this type of love for others? Have you experienced God’s love for you? If not, consider reading Romans 8:31-39 very slowly and inserting your name into the passage.
Think about someone in your life who is either facing a challenge or rejoicing in a victory. Name a couple practical ways you could “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15) and act on them.