Wonder Rocks 3

 LIGHT OR DARK

As a mother, my natural inclination is to reach out to my son and protect him. It is as natural as sunlight in the day and moonlight at night: Light to dark and so forth. But today I am called upon to do the right thing: Right thought, right speech, and right action. Today he faces the judge as part of his charge for domestic violence. I feel compromised by love and by right. I, above all people, should understand the need for laws against Domestic Violence; the need for reprimands against it and justice for those who have been victimized by it. The pain at the moment is deep. As deep as any of the wounds of a mother who has witnessed a son take the wrong path over and over again on his life's journey. 

It would not be right of me to reach out and to offer assistance in order to try and change this destiny in any way. I have an obligation to myself, to the truth and to society and also to him, to allow him the right of his own passage. He must learn consequences and how to avoid the pitfalls of "enjoyable sins" Including those intoxications of drugs, women and moral decay. 

Rage is an unacceptable response, drug fueled rage or alcohol fueled rage is only worse, never an excuse. He has to require more of himself and he has avoided that so far. Now the court will decide the requirement. It is out my hands or my sphere of influence.
There are no more last chances to offer him against his defiance of the rules. He has not demonstrated that he should be given an exemption to any of the laws involving substance abuse and rage.
 As hard as this is, I must resist the urge to provide him any alternatives in thought or action. It has all been offered and re-offered dozens of times, in the years leading up to this point. He rejected every opportunity given to him. I have to live between empathy for a son in distress and waiting for his willingness to take responsibility for what he has done. Both he and his victim say they cannot remember what happened during the altercation. Therefore, they are both "prisoners of that moment", until such time as they grasp accountability as one of the root principles of life.
I figured, as I watched his life go downhill, that this is the way it would probably end up. I couldn't see any other logical outcome for someone so enthralled with the escapism of substance abuse and the depravity of thought that addiction demands. For him to cling to it with such tenacity could only bring jail or death or both.
We have arrived here at the scales of justice. I am sad for him and for me. Society has demanded its price be paid. For me, it is one of the major crises of my life: presenting me with the struggle between hope and disappointment. For him it could bring a change for the better if he looks beyond the confines of his altered mind. That is yet to be answered.
The following story is one I compare to substance abuse and how trying to bring someone to recovery is a painful experience of rejection vs freedom of choice.

Taken from Max Lucado's The Woodcutter's Wisdom and Other Favorite Stories 

The Cave People

Long ago, or maybe not so long ago, there was a tribe in a dark, cold cavern. The cave dwellers would huddle together and cry against the chill. Loud and long they wailed. It was all they did. It was all they knew to do. The sounds in the cave were mournful, but the people didn't know it, for they had never known joy. The spirit in the cave was death, but the people didn't know it, for they had never known life.

But then, one day, they heard a different voice. "I have heard your cries," it announced. "I have felt your chill and seen your darkness. I have come to help."

The cave people grew quiet. They had never heard this voice, hope sounded strange to their ears. "How can we know you have come to help?"

"Trust me," he answered. "I have what you need."

The cave people peered through the darkness at the figure of the stranger. He was stacking something, then stooping and stacking more.

"What are you doing?" one cried, nervous.

The stranger didn't answer.

"What are you making?" one shouted even louder.

Still no response.

"Tell us!" demanded a third.

The visitor stood and spoke in the direction of the voices. "I have what you need." With that he turned to the pile at his feet and lit it. Wood ignited, flames erupted, and light filled the cavern.

The cave people turned away in fear. "Put it out!" they cried. "It hurts to see it."

"Light always hurts before it helps," he answered. "Step closer. The pain will soon pass."

"Not I," declared a voice.

"Nor I," agreed a second.

"Only a fool would risk exposing his eyes to such light."

The stranger stood next to the fire. "Would you prefer the darkness? Would you prefer the cold? Don't consult your fears. Take a step of faith"

For a long time no one spoke. The people hovered in groups covering their eyes. The fire builder stood next to the fire. "It's warm here," he invited.

"He's right," one from behind him announced. "It's warmer." The stranger turned a saw a figure slowly stepping toward the fire. "I can open my eyes now," she proclaimed. "I can see."

"Come closer," invited the fire builder.

She did. She stepped into the ring of light.

"It's so warm!" she extended her hands and sighed as her chill began to pass.

"Come, everyone! Feel the warmth," she invited.

"Silence, woman!" cried one of the cave dwellers. "Dare you lead us into your folly? Leave us. Leave us and take your light with you."

She turned to the stranger. "Why won't they come?"

"They choose the chill, for though it's cold, it's what they know. They'd rather be cold than change."

"And live in the dark?"

"And live in the dark."

The now-warm woman stood silent. Looking first at the dark, then at the man.

"Will you leave the fire?" he asked.

She paused, then answered, "I cannot. I cannot bear the cold." Then she spoke again. "But nor can I bear the thought of my people in darkness."

"You don't have to," he responded, reaching into the fire and removing a stick. "Carry this to your people. Tell them the light is here, and the light is warm. Tell them the light is for all who desire it."

And so she took the small flame and stepped into the shadows.

I, too, must take my small flame of light and step back into the shadows of his life for what I have to give is not accepted. He wants me to stop shedding light on his Indiscretions and ": enjoyable sins". He would rather live in the dark than change.