We’ve had a few sunny days lately, and each time the sun peeks out, I race to the garden. Last year’s tomatoes and glads hang by their withered little necks, still suspended on twine tied to bamboo stakes. The plants are miserable and disgusting–black and slimy from rain and mold, but the stakes won’t let them go. Today I could be mistaken for a dead tomato plant, too.
Once again, the meth kiss of death is upon our house. For five days our son has been largely absent, although he’s supposed to have begun a new job. When he’s sober, Chris relies too much on me and his dad, for help on transportation and other things he should be able to do on his own. But when he’s using, he goes days without so much as a word. We never know if he’s meeting his obligations or simply out on a meth binge. So today, when he “crashed” and couldn’t be rousted awake long enough to find out if he still has a job to go to, we knew. He’ll deny it, but all the signs of a toot are there: he hasn’t eaten two bites since Sunday; he’s up at midnight, at six AM, at 5PM; he’s spooky and tries to avoid the family by hiding in the garage or staying away altogether. And today, his classic line when he feels threatened. “Why are you getting into my business?”
I hate to have to write about this negative stuff that never seems to get better. In times of recession, they say all readers want is an escape. Something to cheer them up. The only thing I can think of that’s halfway cheery is to remember that God isn’t necessarily going to deliver me out of all this (or Chris for that matter) but God is surely going to sing us through. Every step of the way we’re being watched over, tended to like the most tender young seedling.
The verse that talks about Jesus being a bruised reed that was bent yet not broken is on my mind today. As corny as it sounds, I really do need that support to keep me going in the face of yet another five days of my son’s addiction. I’m hanging onto Jesus for my very life. When the sun comes out again, I plan to rush outside and tidy up the garden. In place of the dead stuff, I’ll plant new tomatoes. I’ll use the same sturdy bamboo stakes and pray I hold up half as well as my garden does.