Okay, so it wasn't Monday.

Well, I said I would write yesterday but frankly, there were no words in me. There were tears in me. There was anxiety in me. There was exhaustion in me. But no words.

My oldest son moved far away from home yesterday. Far, far away. As in Wuhan, Hubei, China far away. Oh me. Oh my. Remember how hard it was when this happened? I mourned for weeks. I should have known the Lord was preparing me for a greater sacrifice. I should have known. But I'm slow.

It seems like just yesterday he was this boy:
Oh, the journey we've been on to get to Wuhan, China. Matt was 11 years old when his dad left us. He knew that his daddy had preached against divorce from the pulpit. He even knew right where to turn in his Bible to find Jesus' teachings against divorce. He had been used to being the son of an adored preacher - all of a sudden he was the son of the most gossiped about affair in the tri-state area. His dad had just been name "Citizen of the Year" in that little town of 3500. Now to leave the family, the pulpit, indeed, the church for another man's wife? Homes that had been welcoming became detached - where we'd once been the "big cheese" we were suddenly an embarrassment. I mean what do you do with an ex preacher's wife? She can't just go with the parsonage for the next guy, you know! Matt's perceptions of those times caused a seed of bitterness to take root. I am sure I failed him in ways - I was barely holding it together, so much in shock was I. I needed to figure out how to make a living - I hadn't ever done that before. I had to be a single parent of a 11 year old, a 5 year old and a 3 year old. We muddled along - found a new normal - made a new life and met a wonderful man who wanted not only a wife but a family! We married and moved to the metroplex.

And all hell broke loose. The happy, motivated leader turned into an angry teen who began living a lie. He still got good grades. He still went to church every time the doors were opened. His friends were good - his attitude was respectful. But he discovered something that made him feel better about life - he discovered drugs. He managed well all through high school. Looking back, I know there were signs but I didn't know then - it was the last thing I would have dreamed of. We were good people! We didn't use drugs. Matt went to a christian college, having received a very generous academic scholarship. At the end of his freshman year he was a bona fide addict. We had to ask him to leave our home and so began five years of horror. Weeks of not knowing where he was, knowing he was on the street, knowing he was so much more naive than he wanted to believe. Phone calls from jail. Possession charges. Probation. Only to repeat the cycle. Finally he turned 21 and switched to a legal drug - alcohol. The periods of having it all together became fewer and farther between - his life was unraveling and everyone but he knew it. In 2003 a series of events transpired to bring it all to a head - an uninsured motorist pulled out in front of him and he had no where to go but into the side of his truck. Matt ended up with a car loan bigger than the totaled car was worth. He had to move back home to catch up financially. Then he got a ticket for driving under the influence and he lost his license which led to losing his job. Finally the scales were pulled from my eyes and I had to face that my son was killing himself slowly but surely and the problem was not going to go away. It was real. It was ugly. It was enough. I simply told him "This is enough! You are going to rehab!" Almost, but not quite that blunt. Because he was still the sweet, compliant, people pleasing boy he had always been there was no argument - he just said okay and he went.

Of course, he was just going to keep me happy - he was going to do his 30 days - play the game and get out and go right back to his life. Of course, he had discounted the army of prayer warriors his momma had mustered. About 3 weeks in we casually mentioned to him that he was free to spend the entire 90 days there if he wanted. He was mad! But he didn't tell me that - he just went away and thought about it. And the people prayed. And God spoke loud enough Matt could hear him. And he stayed. He quit playing the game and began working the program. He left the facility on January 15, 2004.

Well, this is too long. I'll have to write the rest of the story later this week. I just checked -- his plane has landed in Wuhan. He was to be met at the airport by the school officials. So his new life begins.