The Lord has been really sending me some mixed messages lately.  More like  I’ve been mixing up his messages.

I love serving the Lord.  Within MY comfort zone.  I love getting late night messages from a woman with no food and 4 hungry kids.  Well, I hate the suffering behind the call but I love being called to serve in the food ministry.   There’s an indescribable blessing when you go to serve these homes with one can of spaghetti to share among 3 people and you see your boy look down and notice the tenant has has duct tape holding his only pair or boots together. Your boy gives him the boots off of his own feet.   I love being able to share my passion with others.  I love being able to pray with these families.  I’ve always considered that my calling. And claimed it.

Recently, I told Preston that God was getting his wires crossed becuase people were reaching out to me about addictions, whether it was them or a family member. I felt like I could not help them except feed them or send them to my friend,  Delois.  Delois has a son that is a recovering addict.  The Lord led her to begin a phenomenal faith-based addiction ministry called Chainbreakers.  The Lord has done some amazing things within this group.  But my passion is the Food Pantry. Delois’s is working with addicts.

Several months ago, “D” came into my life through my friendship with Delois.  “D” has an addiction, and I’ve been able to witness her struggle daily.  She was clean for many months,  and fell off recently.  I don’t have to feed this sweet friend but I sure pray for her.  She’ll send me messages throughout the day with “please pray”.  That’s the code word that we have that she’s fighting temptation at that moment.  I love this girl dearly.  I will be there to cheer her when she has 5 days or 5 years sobriety.

Just a few weeks ago, an old friend from our previous Church sent me a message requesting prayer for her brother, who was in dire need of an intervention. Guess who was literally within 5 feet of me at that exact moment?  Delois.  Delois was able to give my old friend some pointers and an ear to listen to. Her brother accepted the help and if my math is right, Tuesday marks 3 weeks that he is heroin and Meth free. Nothing was sweeter than her sending me a picture of him and seeing that light back in his eyes.

Delois, tears flowing, at today’s service.

Today, I came face to face with heroin. Not the physical drug, but the aftermath.  Hunter and I went to a funeral today of a family member of some friends of ours.   Dead at 34 from a heroin overdose. Gone.  Two children are motherless. A man lost his daughter.  A mother no longer has her baby girl.  The sister is gone. Vanished. If I had to guess, I’d say several of the  pews were full of addicts just like her.  Only difference is they get to chase one more high and hope it’s not their last.

Preacher Cotton didn’t stand at that pulpit and ignore what took this girl’s life.  He hit it head on and preached to those of us on the pews that may be one high away from dying.  He told about a chainbreaking God that could save them from this evil drug that is taking over our community. He preached on HOPE.  I haven’t stopped praying that this girl’s death has saved another family from the ordeal our friends are going through.

I walked away from the funeral today knowing that God knows exactly what he is doing.  He didn’t have his wires crossed with me.  I had mine crossed.

It’s my job, and the job of every single person reading this blog to help reclaim our community and give these addicts a message of HOPE.  That can be by being a simple friend, by praying, by getting involved in support groups, and so much more.  It may be simply donating to the food pantry that supports the hungry side of drug addiction.

Tonight, I’m thankful what Delois has diligently, tirelessly done to give these addicts HOPE and I look forward to learning from her lead and working to make a difference in our community.

Tonight, I’m grieving my community and all the people that think that heroin, meth, alcohol, and even prescription drugs will make it better.  Hope is only found in one place.

And that’s in our Lord and Savior.

Until next time,

The Beancounter.