I ASKED FOR BREAD AND GOT A STONE

By Merry Katherine's daddy, Tommy

I ASKED FOR BREAD AND GOT A STONE

"For a parent, having a precious child messing with the drug world is living a life of terror and fear."

For a parent, having a precious child messing with the drug world is living a life of terror and fear. You get to watch your baby girl change for the worst right before your eyes. Deception and lies begin to take the place of sweetness and honesty. The darkness begins to slowly snuff out the brightness of her life and personality. The decisions that she makes are skewed by the draw of pursuing an altered state of consciousness. An authentic and honest conversation with my daughter is no longer possible with the interference of her urge to flee from truth. Engaging in self-destructive activities takes precedence, and is highly admired and encouraged by a totally “new” class of friends.

As a parent, I was constantly preoccupied with “What must I keep doing to protect my child from herself?” My thought-life and physical-life were always in a state of “high alert” to intervene to keep harm from coming her way. Then it came down to the ultimate agonizing decision to save my child by not “enabling” her anymore and tell her she is on her own.

Prior to this, I am thinking and contemplating, “What must I do to break the spell she seems to be under? I am losing my daughter, and I am doing everything in my power to save her, and nothing is having an impact.” A sense of helplessness infiltrates my insides, and anxiety takes over my emotional state.

The not knowing where-she-is or how-she-is-doing is almost more than I can bear. All day everyday, I am praying for her and pleading with God to watch out for her since I cannot anymore.

“Please save my baby, Lord! Watch over her and keep her safe,” I beg.

Day after day, this agonizing goes on, and I struggle with the coldness of my insides in the middle of the summer.

Then one day, my heart leaps with joy as she comes to visit, and everything in me wants to hold her and hug her and never let go.

But I restrain and guard myself lest I get drawn into something she wants that will do her more harm than good. After a little while, she is gone but returns two days later to gather up special things for an ill-advised beach trip.

The next day, a deputy sheriff walks into my backyard while I am mowing. He asks me, “Is there a shady place we can go to talk?” He then struggles to tell me the driver of the S.U.V. my daughter was riding in passed out at the wheel. My nineteen-year-old sweet baby girl was killed somewhere on the side of the road in Alabama . . .

Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone?

Matthew 7:9 NIV

Written 5/6/09 - I ASKED FOR BREAD AND GOT A STONE - Tommy C. Prince