Discovery Part 2
I still hesitate to write. I'm concerned that someone reading about the few symptoms I am going to disclose about our young son may be a catalyst to fear for parents who see some of these things in their own children. Let me assure you, that does not mean your child has a mental illness if you are noticing similar issues...
Story resumes from here:
...So my husband took our son to an unknown place, with unknown people. For four months our son stayed there. He did well. It was very hard on all of us...in fact, I think this is where our hearts all began to rip apart.
ripped open to heal
He returned from Montana. He was calm. For a time. The only observation the director of the ranch had about our son was that he was "moody".
Then the issues returned. They returned as rebellion. Yet somewhere deep in the well of my heart I think I knew there was more...more than sin and defiance. It was during this time that God produced something in my husband and I. We developed two God given common goals: 1. that our son would be saved, that he would see his need for a Savior, and 2. that we were going to glorify God in our home.
Glorifying God in our home wasn't an easy goal, but my husband and I stayed together and committed. Nothing short of miraculous. We determined a zero tolerance. If our son ran away, we notified police. If there was aggression, we notified police. For nearly his entire teenage life he attended every juvenile deterrance program available covering a full spectrum of misdemeanors.
All along this journey our pastors were tracking with us. Their love, encouragement, prayer and solid Biblical wisdom was precious to us. We began to discuss around the age of 16 that perhaps there truly was a physiological issue going on. My sister in law suggested meeting with our family doctor, just my husband and I, to share our observations and concerns about our son. So meet with him we did. He confirmed our fears and suggested a good adolescent child psychiatrist. We made the appointment but it was several months away.
Somewhere in the interim, he spiraled into a tornado of agitation and mania (caused by lack of sleep). Desperate, my husband and I brought him to an adolescent psychiatric hospital. They wanted to admit him for observation. I do remember this day vividly...walking through the floor together, past the other patients in a large, cold looking room with plastic chairs and plain beds with old lockers outside...we were taken to a room with glass doors. As we sat there waiting for a social/case worker, I looked up to the only window, square and plain near the ceiling. I wanted to die. I asked God to myself, "How can you ask me to do this? How can I leave my son here?"...in a quiet whisper I heard Him say back to me..."You have to do this. How can you help anyone else if you don't walk through this?"...
I'm not even sure what that truly meant (or if I was even hearing from God!), but it brought a sense of comfort and purpose to me in this unimaginable place we now found ourselves...
to be continued...
Story resumes from here:
...So my husband took our son to an unknown place, with unknown people. For four months our son stayed there. He did well. It was very hard on all of us...in fact, I think this is where our hearts all began to rip apart.
ripped open to heal
He returned from Montana. He was calm. For a time. The only observation the director of the ranch had about our son was that he was "moody".
Then the issues returned. They returned as rebellion. Yet somewhere deep in the well of my heart I think I knew there was more...more than sin and defiance. It was during this time that God produced something in my husband and I. We developed two God given common goals: 1. that our son would be saved, that he would see his need for a Savior, and 2. that we were going to glorify God in our home.
Glorifying God in our home wasn't an easy goal, but my husband and I stayed together and committed. Nothing short of miraculous. We determined a zero tolerance. If our son ran away, we notified police. If there was aggression, we notified police. For nearly his entire teenage life he attended every juvenile deterrance program available covering a full spectrum of misdemeanors.
All along this journey our pastors were tracking with us. Their love, encouragement, prayer and solid Biblical wisdom was precious to us. We began to discuss around the age of 16 that perhaps there truly was a physiological issue going on. My sister in law suggested meeting with our family doctor, just my husband and I, to share our observations and concerns about our son. So meet with him we did. He confirmed our fears and suggested a good adolescent child psychiatrist. We made the appointment but it was several months away.
Somewhere in the interim, he spiraled into a tornado of agitation and mania (caused by lack of sleep). Desperate, my husband and I brought him to an adolescent psychiatric hospital. They wanted to admit him for observation. I do remember this day vividly...walking through the floor together, past the other patients in a large, cold looking room with plastic chairs and plain beds with old lockers outside...we were taken to a room with glass doors. As we sat there waiting for a social/case worker, I looked up to the only window, square and plain near the ceiling. I wanted to die. I asked God to myself, "How can you ask me to do this? How can I leave my son here?"...in a quiet whisper I heard Him say back to me..."You have to do this. How can you help anyone else if you don't walk through this?"...
I'm not even sure what that truly meant (or if I was even hearing from God!), but it brought a sense of comfort and purpose to me in this unimaginable place we now found ourselves...
to be continued...
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