A mother wrote to me: I’m giving up on prayer. Recovery was going well, I thought. Making meetings, new job he likes, nice girlfriend…I was beginning to trust and hope. In the last week, money taken from my purse, relapse, and violation of probation. Now it’s back to court and maybe prison this time. I’m afraid, and I can’t do this again.
My reflection: Why does fear seem so much stronger than hope? I don’t know, but there were countless times when I, too, felt like giving up on prayer. Often it’s easier to abandon hope and faith than to keep feeling crushed.
Today’s Promise to consider: When addiction’s chaos rises up again, smacks us, and knocks us to the ground, we hurt and feel despondent. It is then that we are in danger of giving up hope. But if we lose faith, all is lost. While it’s true that our loved ones need to fight their own battles, we can choose to stay close in hope and prayer. Today, let us make that choice.
I talked with a friend, whose son is suffering from substance abuse, and I was moved by her words to her son. “I believe in you,” she told him, “Sure I’m afraid of what the future holds for you and our family, but I don’t want to breathe my fear into you. I want to give you hope.”
A dad wrote to me: After 21 years of addiction, my son told me that during his darkest days he knew his family loved him and would welcome him back into the family when he decided to change his life. He told me that while he was working his 12 Steps, this knowledge – that home would stay close – is what gave him hope for the future. Never give up!
The Japanese Philosopher Diasaku Ikeda tells us: Hope is a flame that we nurture within our hearts. It may be sparked by someone else – by the encouraging words of a friend, relative, or mentor – but it must be fanned and kept burning through our own determination.
A mother wrote to me:I’ve found strength in a very close Nar-Anon group and continue to attend meetings regularly. My husband, my son’s sister, and I are here for him when HE is ready to change. We know we can’t force him to change – we’ve tried. After three failed rehab attempts, we have nothing else to give him, only love.
Dr. MacAfee wrote, The addiction story is a microcosm of isolation, fear, terror, confusion, and secrecy turned inward on itself in a never-ending litany of questions: “what went wrong?” “who is to blame?” “why can’t you stop?” and “why are you doing this to us?” This drama is far more prevalent than most people realize, until addiction enters our homes and becomes a part of our own stories.
A mom wrote this poem: 
A mother wrote to me: My son walked out of his fourth rehab, and in November of last year my husband kicked him out of our house, again. I couldn’t help but mourn. I lay on my bed and didn’t move for two days. He’s presently in an outpatient methadone program. His addiction has claimed him for five years. Methadone is not the permanent answer for my son, but he is doing better. His drug addiction has had such a big impact on our lives. I want to see him whole and clean and well again. His bruises on his arms are fading. 
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