A young relative came by the house to explain why he hadn't called or come to visit. With tears in his eyes he said he'd been using and dealing drugs and had been ashamed to talk to me. He said he wanted help.
But when I asked what kind of help he wanted, he wasn't sure. I told him the only help I'd be able to give him is the help I give anyone else: which is to go to a detox and then enter a long-term recovery program. However, he declined my offer.
He said he had the willpower to do it on his own. And he was honest with me: he said he really didn't want to give up marijuana. I told him I could respect that. Then I told him that using anything never worked for me. I drank for much of my life because it was legal. But the alcohol wasn't enough. Before long I was looking for heroin. Alcohol always served as a gateway, a path back to my drug of choice. I said marijuana might do the same for him.
We talked for a while and I told him when things got bad enough I'd help him. He said things have been pretty bad lately. So far he's lost his truck, he's unemployed, and he’s essentially homeless and living on other people's couches.
I pray that he decides he's had enough before he goes back to jail or...
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