A year ago we staged an intervention in one last attempt to pluck my dad from the evil grips of Addiction. We hired a professional interventionist to help guide our loving efforts- -someone who understood the mind of an addict in ways we don’t. We made a plan, secured childcare, enlisted prayer warriors, bought brand new clothes to go in a duffel bag that would hopefully go to a treatment facility. We spent a lot of money on medication he already had so that there would be no reason to delay in getting help. We wrestled over what our personal boundaries would be. And committed to following through with them- hoping we would never have to.

I knew that God was releasing me from any entanglement in the darkness of the multiple addictions. My boundaries reflected that call on my life. No physical or emotional relationship beyond letters or texts. No more visits with papa. No more awkward dinners wondering what’s going on. No more going to Sheriffs department to try to facilitate treatment or assist with safety measures. No more earthly Father to speak of.

We did the intervention because God whispered in my ear this was the most loving way out of the nightmare I found myself in. We did the intervention because when you realize someone you love is in grave danger- – you risk it all. We did it because we believe in the holy power of hard conversations. We did it because my mother will never leave my father behind without trying to help him find his way. We did it because we believed that deep down – – that sweet daddy that picked me up, taught me to drive, gave me away, and advised me faithfully was STILL IN THERE.

And I did it because I needed to be free through LOVE and not out of fear. It was the one stone unturned and we’re not the kind of family that misses one.

I want to tell you that after we poured out our hearts to my Dad that LOVE and a desire to get clean flooded over him- – that we all held hands and gritted our teeth as we walked into a treatment facility United. That this facility was the healing place with the family therapy that repaired gaping wounds. But that’s not what happened.

No, not at all.

The intervention was short and sweet . My dad didn’t wrestle at all with the choice between his family and his addictions. I’d like to tell you that the thought of not seeing me or my children tore him up and that he held me and said, ” I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.”

But I wasn’t chosen on that day. . . I wasn’t too great a loss to bear. My unborn child and I left on that cold Friday afternoon to a sacred weekend of mourning. I had to be willing to endure a great loss for my Dad to experience the depth of loss needed to hear God more clearly. That failed intervention hadn’t failed nearly as dreadfully as it seemed. But victory was delivered in the holding of each loving boundary that seemed to harsh to bear. Victory was delivered ,not when I had enough,

But when my loved one decided that He Had Enough. . . And He and God were the only ones who could really fix it, heal it, clean it out, and carry on. . .

I learned:

That loving people is good but sometimes loving yourself is the best way to love others well

That the people who are continuously inflicting pain are in continuous pain themselves. I don’t have to understand it but I do have to acknowledge it and have compassion in my heart for that fact.

That the prodigal son in the Bible is more about the prodigals brother than the son himself. I am Both.

That healing is possible but God uses a different formula to deliver it often times ( my dad started recovery in an intensive outpatient program in Colorado with continued work remotely – – NOT the in-patient treatment facility I was convinced was the ONLY answer)

That God works faster than you can imagine. He heals much faster than we destroy when we LET HIM WORK

That when God makes someone NEW,

He takes the old away. They deserve the same courtesy from us.

One month after I mourned the loss of my father, He came walking down the road – – ready to take his place at the feasting table. . .

He was there at the birth of my son and I believe he will continue to be victorious in Christ and a blessing to his family for the entirety of His life. . .

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

2 Corinthians 5:17