Giving Thanks for a Grievous Gift
My phone rang at 2 a.m., jarring me awake. I had been asleep for two hours in my hotel room, 1,000 miles from home. Not again, I thought. Which will this be—hospital or jail?
It was jail. My son was calling to tell me it was all a mistake; he shouldn’t have been taken to jail and could I help him with bail. And so I faced one more event in a long and challenging journey.
Ten years before we had opened our home as a foster shelter to a 9-year-old boy who had been taken from his alcoholic, drug-addict mother. With slight trepidation, we were excited about the privilege God was entrusting to us. We were sure this boy was a gift from God.
The next years were not easy. The neglect and abuse he had experienced overshadowed everything we did for him. Fetal alcohol syndrome spawned significant reasoning issues. Abandonment fears led to reactive attachment problems. Spotty school attendance robbed him of reading and writing skills.
Would we leave him?
Most of all, he was sure we would be just one more in a line of those who left him. His need to be the center of attention shattered peace in our home. Our daughters were deeply disappointed—this was not the little brother they were anticipating.
Nevertheless, his mother’s rights were terminated, and we were encouraged to adopt him. Much prayer and family conversation convinced us he was a gift from God, so we welcomed him fully into our family.
The challenges of the early years paled in comparison to the difficulty of his teen and early adult years. The calls from jail and hospital evolved from middle school bullying, gang membership, drugs, alcohol, mischief, stealing, girls, and wrecked cars.
We encountered people and situations we would never have known. Every way we tried to help him toward a safe and productive life failed. He was failing, and we felt like failures.
This was a gift? If so, it was a grievous gift.
But he truly was a gift. Perhaps more a gift to us than we were to him.
How? For me, this became the question God kept before me: Could I continue to receive this boy as a gift? Slowly the Father opened my eyes and heart to see the many ways God had blessed me. I recount them in my book, When You Love a Prodigal—in the Gift chapter.
And now? How is he now?
Prayers have been answered. Love is winning. God continues to give good gifts. He is married, with an angel of a wife, an artistic stepdaughter, and two little girls. He works harder than I have ever seen him work. He asks for prayer, advice, and sometimes a listening ear.
But any parent of a prodigal knows to be alert. I still live on my knees. This young man himself said, “Pray I can stay on God’s path. It’s narrow, and it’s easy to fall off.”
And how am I?
I’m grateful. I am such a different person because I received this gift. And as hard as the journey has been, my gratitude overflows.
You can hear him tell his story on this week’s When You Love a Prodigal podcast: Josh Tells His Story.
What about you? When have you received a challenging gift?
c2022 Judy Douglass
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