Dinner with my son - a break from healing, a need for healing
Every Tuesday I have dinner with a young man who has schizophrenia.
Why do I do this? Because he is lonely. Because he is a wonderful young man with a great sense of creativity and sense of humor. Because I want to make sure he gets at least one decent mean a week. These are all good reasons, but really only one reason counts...
because he is my son.
He is doing pretty well these days. He lives in an apartment with a roommate, he does his own cooking, cleaning, and keeps his own schedule. He interacts well with people. And he has goals of his own making.
It has not always been this calm, however.
In years past, he was more comfortable living outside, foraging for food, and occasionally breaking into our home for money and for things to sell. He self-medicated, which made his inner demons easier to deal with, but at the same time, made it impossible for us to interact with him. We had to have him arrested several times, and watched with horror as the sheriff's department chased him with multiple cars, deputies and even dogs.
We both hate those memories. Each of us for different reasons. He laughs at some of his own memories of losing the dogs by wading through water, and waking in the woods with a dog barking in his face.
I shudder to recall calling out for him to come home from the woods, or standing next to him as the police surrounded him with tasers drawn.
I could go on and on about our experiences, or about how poorly the system supports those with mental illnesses. But we got through those days of chaos and danger and weeping. By God's grace, we came through.
Thank God, he is under proper care now.
Why do I bring this up now?
I'm in the middle of writing about God's will and provision for healing, and I have a son who needs healing so badly, it makes my head want to explode.
So, what do I do with this dilemma?
I need. God promises. I believe. I have yet to see the promise manifest.
I still believe.
I wait. I go on believing. I will see him healed.
And until then, every Tuesday afternoon, he and I go to dinner at China King Buffet, the second best buffet in Lansing.
We talk. We laugh (a little). We go to the grocery store.
We express our love for each other in the small ways that we know how to.
And we wait on the healing grace.
This should have been read more.I would like to listen, if you would like to talk about this. I am compassionate toward the situation of both of you. < 3 † Endure. This will all be okay; it will. That last day, and you know the same as I.