P.S....Pray

by Susan Farr Fahncke, God Answers Moms' Prayers

Dear Son,

We all miss you. My heart aches with the knowledge that your choices had led you down this awful road that ended in a detention facility. I would do anything to fix your life for you, but I know that only you and the Lord can do that. I pray your time there will help you understand that real happiness can only come from doing what is right. Please know that we love you and are praying for you.

My tears blurred the words on the page before me. In all honesty, I didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do that could fix things. The mother in me wanted to just make it all better, but I knew this was something I couldn't fix. My 16-year-old son would have to do this on his own, with God's forgiveness and help.

I had not slept in so long. Exhaustion became normal as deep-rooted anxiety kept me agonizing and praying for my child. He ws lost and very far off the path he needed to be on. My pain was so all-encompassing, it felt a lot like grief. I guess in a way it was grief - for the son I once knew, whom I could no longer see.

Big blue-green eyes, filled with mischief and humor, my thoughtful, kind little boy grew to be a teenager I never dreamed he would be. His choices brought him to a darker and darker way of living. I watched as he changed before my eyes, becoming unhappy, angry, and spiraling steadily downward. It was tearing our family apart, tearing my heart to shreds. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that I had made mistakes in raising him that brought him to this kind of life. Now all I could do to reach him was to make occasional visits and send mail, which they allowed him to read, then took away.

Each day I began a new letter, tucking it into a card with a funny joke or a spiritual message. I prayed hard to know what to say, to know what my Father in heaven would have me tell my son that would make a difference. With each letter I felt inadequate in my words, but I always ended with the same postscript: P.S....Pray.

I received one letter from my son while he was incarcerated.

Dear Mom,

I am so sorry for all the things I've done. I miss you all so much and I can't wait to get out of here to start over. I am reading my scriptures every day and I think this has been good for me. I needed to be here. I can't wait to come home.

P.S....I'm praying.

Eventually he was released and given probation. When he came home, my son had a new light in his eyes. He seemed focused and happy and appreciative. We welcomed him with open arms, and soon his life was back on track.

And then he started slipping back into his old lifestyle again. At first it was little things, breaking small rules and charming his way out of things. But as time went on, I saw his whole countenance changing again. He looked dark - there is no other way to describe it. His choices were allowing Satan to rule his life, and once again I knew he was very far off the path.

And so it went. For over a year, my child slipped back and forth, in and out of trouble, each time with consequences that I hoped would be enough of a learning experience that he would finally learn. And each time he was in trouble, I prayed from the depth of my soul for some way to reach him, to help him. Time and again I received the feeling that my son had to do this himself. All I could do was love him as Christ loves him : unconditionally. I repeatedly told him how much I loved him and how much God loves him and that would never, ever change.

I know prayer is the one thing I can do for him. I pray with him, I pray for him, and I gently prompt him to pray.

I watch him struggle. It's like watching someone trying to swim for the first time and not being able to help. When he surfaces, I can see the light in his eyes, the hope and happiness that comes from living the way God wants us to. I pray harder and try to keep close with him, so that he never doubts my love.

One day we were talking about his time in detention. I asked him what it was like, and he said it was one part like hell and one part like heaven. I asked him how on earth it could ever be like heaven, and he said that it brought him closer to God than at any other time in his life. He told me how my letters made him so homesick, but he always looked for my little postscript, and it was like his compass: P.S...Pray.

We take it day by day now. We end each day with prayer as a family. I have definite hope that he will make it. He has so much good, so much potential to one day be a grat man who walks with the Lord. He still makes mistakes, but one thing is constant throughout his life: the power of prayer.

It is the thing I know makes a difference and the certain way to find the right path. It was the answer to my prayers for my child, the direction God gave me. It's not the answer I thought I ws looking for, but it's the one God gave me.

We pray.