i fell into two coma's, back - to-back
before entering rehab. it took both of
these to make me understand i had a
problem. and, every day,

we had to say our names and what we
were: addicts or alcoholics or both. several
times a day. i hated this routine bacause i only
believed i had become dependant on pain pills.
i was NOT an addict.

i realized everyone drank coffee and smoked.
i did neither. i was freezing and losing weight
i didn't have to lose. i smelled nicotine in the
carpets and the food and clothes and hair.
i have never smoked one cigarette in my life,
so the pungent odor gave me extreme nausea.

my body ached. hurt so badly. all over.
i didn;t sleep for 12 days. took at least
three hot baths a night just to get through them.
my higher power was Jesus. for sure! absolutely!!!
but almost all others were like foreign gods.
stones and crystals and electricity.

everyone had it out for me in group therapy.
they REALLY got to my core one day when
they said they felt sorry for my children because
i was such a "bad-ass" mother. a gutteral
scream rose from my deep, inner core, and
i was left gasping, in tears, to keep breathing.

let's wrap this up tomorrow....

the children were so sweet. they
loved california. everything looked brand
new compared to chicago where will and i and
the children lived.

without herb and dona, nothing would
have changed. they loved will, but took one
look at me, and knew something drastic was
happening in our family. herb called will,
and simply told him they had sent us somewhere
and would not reveal farther than this. to this day,
they are still some of my closest friends. because
of them, i am here today.

i had a few pills in my purse.
pain pills. the holiday was finally
behind us. and jan, my twin sister, flew out
to take care of the boys while i went into a detox/rehab.
center. a nice one. every penny put on the table
by herb and dona.

i walked into rehab. and absolutely knew God had
put me here, and i wouldn't walk out until i was free.
there were no options for me. i was now a single
mother (legally separated), and if i REALLY loved
them the way they deserved, my feet had to be on the
ground and my mind clear. they deserved everything good.

most addicts and alcoholics have wandered in and out
of these places, and knew the routine. this was brand new
for me. when the nurse told me i needed the "BIG BOOK",
i looked at her with a frown on my face.

"you mean the Bible"?
"no. you know. the BIG book!"

it took me a week to figure that out. i mean, i was
in japan or china or russia because no one spoke
english.

more tomorrow. thank you for your responses and love!

it was 1996.
on this week-end.
that my four sons and i,
sent by some of my dearest
friends, herb and dona, flew
to fresno, california. NO ONE
was home. the world had
disappeared.

the children were 7, 8, 11, 12.

they sent us here because there is a Christian
counselling center. link care.
our plane was met by jonathon olford,
and we were dropped off with a key in hand.
an apartment link care had.

i was absolutely terrified.
the shag carpet was dirty and ancient.
no car. 105 degrees. alone for the long
week-end. the children and i all slept
together in one bed the first night.

being addicted to pain pills after years
of miscarriages and abdominal infections and
16 major surgeries, i had NO idea where this was
going to take me. the thought of withdrawal
naturally setting in with four children and steam
rising from scorched asphalt, i literally gulped down
my constantly-rising fear, and foremost, to keep
calm for the children.

i have never liked this long, holiday ever since.
and will tell you more tomorrow. my journey
from hell to heaven and beyond. in some ways,
it seems like yesterday.

today,

memorial day,

i ran into walmart to pick up

some cold drinks.  hurry.  hurry.

and i blindly walked past a dishevelled

guy in an old wheel-chair.  i went

around the back of him because i just

couldn't face another poor guy, with

a sign of needing money.

 

when i came out of the store, i felt

i couln't ignore this guy.  so...

 

i walked up to him.

heading for the car, and hoping he

wouldn't take advantage of me, and

lie for money for more alcohol or

drugs.

 

he was waving a pitiful, old american

flag.  a veteran of some war.

 

"are you hungry, sir?"

"oh, i am always hungry...."

 

"well, what sounds really good to

you right now?"  i smiled. no agenda

with me, but genuine love and concern.

 

"i love fish sandwiches from mcdonald's..

yeah, those are the best!"  and he smiled

and licked his lips

 

so i told him i would go, right then, and get

him one.  when i got to mcdonald's, one

just didn't sound like enough, so i ordered

two.  upon return, he was sitting right there.

  

i pulled over next to him and handed him

his meal.  and he thanked me.

 

"this will last me for today."

 

"what is your name, sir?"

"jim...."

"well, hi, jim.  my name is ann."

 

"do you know Jesus, jim?

i mean really, really know Him?"

 

"yes, ma'm, i do.  i sure do,"

"well, if you know Jesus, then you

can make it through anything. He

sent me right to you to remind you that

His eyes are on you, and to not be afraid.

no matter what."

 

i walked to my car

and was suddenly struck

with Jesus's words about feeding

the hungry and caring for the broken,

the poor.  the weak.

 

"Jesus, when did we ever see

 those hungry

or naked or in pain?"

 

and His response was,

"when you care for these, you are

caring for Me...

 

"God loves you and i love you

and that is the way it should be.

God loves you and i love you and

that is the way it should be."

 

keep watching for Jesus to put

people in front of you.  keep watching.

He will because we are the only arms of

love and kindness He has to work with

on earth.  please don't forget.

 

one more memorial day passed.

thanks to the troops from multiple

wars.  thank you.

my broken rib still hurts,
and i have a black eye and
an egg on my forehead....to
go with it.

yesterday, i went to
panera's to start back to
our chats. i was terrified that
my face would scare everyone.
so i put on one of my most beautiful
dresses. pulled my hair back in a
pony tail, and slipped inside, hoping...
praying that people would admire my
dress and almost forget to look up.

i found a little corner tucked away.
and pulled my computer out. everything
as usual except i couldn't get panera's
internet service no matter what i tried.
truly...it was sooo hard that i wrapped
everything up. slipped out the side door.
drove home in tears. put my night-gown
back on, and slept for an hour.

i miss my children. oh, i miss them.
if you could just see them and hear them
when they talk to me with love soaked in
their messages. i'm lonely for them.

yesterday just turned into today.
my bruises look better and my rib
feels better, and it really is the truth
that life gets better and better and
harder and harder. i love you all, and
Jesus does...and that is enough for today.

the day of chuck's service,

the sky was magnificently painting

slabs of wide blue over our heads.

it was the morning choir reminding all

of us that God was alive and ready for

the day.

the cathedral was magnificent.

chiselled like crosses.  pristine

in its design.  i was seated nearly on

the platform because i was with ann.

the pipe organ burst into music.  some

of my very favorite old hymns like

"Great is Thy Faithfulness".

eulogies by two daughters.

both well-done.

i had to suck up my emotions

because everyone else was in a wild,

celebratory joy that chuck now had

Heaven to embrace.

had only minutes to speak to cal

thomas.  does  your newspaper carry

his column?  they should.  seconds,

literally, to say "hi" to my dear friend,

wes pippert.  there was a private reception

that ann and i completely missed because

the concierge took my bag and put it in

the wrong car, and their bag in ours.

we raced back to georgetown inn.  got

it corrected, but by then the private

reception was over. great for us.

was spending a few minutes, alone, with

patty, chuck's wife.

evening came. the sky turning dark blue

as it folded its hands and turned morning

on.  

the wind is kicking up again.  i hear an owl.

dry leaves everywhere.  and i paid homage

to the great man we named colson after.

not an easy trip.  but life will never dress-up

in 'easy'.  now, it's time to keep the journey

of my soul and hang on to my children's dreams

and do the laundry.  

i can hear the wind

pushing pebbles and sticks

and noise and chaos... almost

enough rhythm to start up the band.

to blow the horns and tap the drums

and march to the cadence of 

Heaven's choir.

i often used to sing a little song to

children in my neighborhood...and abroad:

"lonely voices crying in the city.

lonely voices sounding like a child.

lonely voices come from busy  people...

too afraid to stop a little while...."

i travelled from san francisco to washington, d.c.

to bid farewell to chuck colson via the memorial

service.  tears fled from my eyes, and down my

soul, and i longed for one last chat.  one more

letter.  another message.  just one more. tomorrow

i will tell you a few moments that God DID give me.

it feels so good to be back with

all of you.  we follow in the wake of

a noble warrior that God decided had done

more than enough service for the Master.

the wind in the trees becomes quiet.

and gathering storms howl out the message

that even in loneliness, there can be joy.