The time has finally come. It’s been a long year of hurry up…then wait. But then – it’s gone by so fast. It’s been an exhausting year. A year that can kill any hope that you may have. I’m talking about post-rehab punishment. A year of awaiting punishment for your husband. And even though it’s your husband’s punishment, it feels like it’s yours as well. In your mind how can more punishment come when this last year feels like punishment enough.
It’s Thanksgiving week. I remember last year’s Thanksgiving like it was yesterday. I spent the first few days of that week in Birmingham, Alabama learning about the ins and outs of addiction in a classroom full of other families in pain. I learned so much that week. I learned I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it and I can’t cure it. It was a refreshing three days, because I learned I wasn’t alone. The huge island I had felt alone on actually housed many, many others. I became educated on the disease and my anger faded away. Why? Because I learned he didn’t do this to me on purpose, he didn’t even do this to himself on purpose, this disease is a brain disease. No different then a diabetic with a pancreas disease or a loved one suffering from a form of cancer. He will fight this disease the rest of his life. And like the other diseases, it’s family disease, my kids may possibly fight it and their kids as well. He came home for the first time Thanksgiving Eve and the first thing I noticed when I saw him – his beautiful blue eyes had returned. He looked amazing! The kids snuggled with him and he for the first time in months seemed relaxed and carefree. He spent two more months in rehab after that and finally arrived home on January 12, 2018.
Fast forward to this Thanksgiving week. He is expected in court this Thanksgiving Eve. No sweet and comforting reunions with family this year, but possibly jail time. Why? I’m not exactly sure how or why it’s all gone this far. But one thing I do know is all I can do is hope! Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Hope for an understanding, educated judge on the disease and one that shows mercy. Hope in my Higher Power. I wear this bracelet daily to remind that hope is always there. That if I put down my anchor in my Higher Power, I can feel safe and secure. He protects my family though this storm. I must continue to hope. That may sound naive to some, but as long as their is hope, there is God. So as I go into these next few days my thoughts will remain in hope and praise. I am preparing, but not dwelling on the negative. I am keeping my anchor on my wrist and in my heart.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. Hebrews 6:19-20