Trying to outrun the Hound, but steadily losing ground

Continued from The Hound of Heaven Winks

It is easy to overlook miracles, until you've experienced one from a front row seat! Once you have eyes to see the evidence of God, His involvement is hard to miss! 

I have these front-row seat experiences at such a regularity, I call them Sacred Echoes, borrowing Margaret Feinburg's title of her book by that name. They have a repetitive nature, in case I miss the Message the first time!  People always tell me I have the most amazing stories. I can't deny it. But I believe we all live amazing Moments of God's extravagant Presence, if we have eyes to see the miracles that we too often miss.

Readers obviously like a feel-good story. My last post, The Hound of Heaven Winks racked up page views, comments, and shares, and initiated emails, phone calls, and community chats more than any other post to date, blowing past long time front runner, Celebrating Mediocrity.

My last post ended with Roma, my son, adopted at age seven, now nineteen, heading to Georgia after trying to give God the slip as he left the halfway house in Florida. If you didn't read The Hound of Heaven Winks, you must go back and read about our awesome God. (And if you didn't read But the Greatest of These is Love, the story full of miracles about our adoption, again, you must read about our awesome God!)

After Roma had been in a suburb of Atlanta for almost three weeks without a job, I started to wonder how he had money to eat. The possibilities were troubling. We kept open the lines of communication, "speaking" daily, mostly by texts.

I am part of a private, supportive adoption group on Facebook. I posted, on Sunday, May 24, asking for prayers for my lost boy. One member, Nancy, messaged me to ask how she could  help. She lives near Atlanta too. I mentioned that I hoped Roma's thirst for God would drive him back to church one day soon. She graciously offered to invite him to her church, Passion City Church where Louie Giglio preaches. I knew of Giglio from a video, but all I could remember about it was the amazing universe God has created and big suns! I did't know much more about him other than he knows a lot about outer space!

On Wednesday Roma shared that he had had nightmares the previous night. I have never know him to have trouble sleeping, even when he first joined us at age seven. I interpret the nightmares as confusion and spiritual warfare. There is a battle raging against terrifying enemies!

On Thursday Nancy messaged again, asking if her daughter, close to Roma's age (wise woman!) could call him and invite him to church on Sunday evening, to a service that attracts many young people in the congregation. I was pretty confident Roma would go. He is an extreme extrovert, and has probably been spending too much time alone, in front of a screen of some kind. His soul is dry from pursuing the world and trying to elude God. I know this because another Facebook sister has told me that is what she is praying for my boy—that he becomes thirsty for relationship with God. I gave Nancy Roma's number.

Then I contacted Roma and asked permission to give a stranger his number, in case he needs anyone down there, and oh, by the way, she might invite him to her church. We texted back and forth and finally he said "sure, whatever," which I interpreted as an enthusiastic "YES!" (Well, it definitely was not a "No!")

Nancy and I frantically messaged back and forth. Her daughter called Roma. She reported that he was "very pleasant." He would consider the invitation, and call her back in a day or two.

Often I decide to drive in silence on my 15-minute commute to my part-time job, in order to "Be still and know that God is God." But on Friday morning, May 30, I decided to tune in to my Christian radio station, WAVA, in case God had a message for me. Focus on the Family was beginning, and the morning's guest was none other than Louie Giglio. I just shake my head sometimes and marvel at God's creative provision. I almost felt Him smiling and asking from the passenger seat, "Are you paying attention, dear one?"

"Examining My Past for a Better Future" was the title of Giglio's message that morning—exactly what Roma needs to hear. Older adopted kids carry heavy baggage of grief, loss, and abandonment from their  past that is too bulky for ill-equipped young souls to carry alone.

After work, I contacted Nancy again, a woman I have never met in flesh and blood, but who is suddenly my sister. God, Himself has introduced us! I messaged her to share about the Holy time with Louie and God in my car.

Nancy reported on Saturday that Roma had called and wasn't available to attend church this Sunday, but maybe next Sunday. A little later, Roma called me to say he wanted to come home to Maryland. He was restless and disillusioned in Georgia. I reminded him it was not our idea for him to go to Georgia, but he shouldn't bail out again when things get difficult, but stay and learn the lesson! I was secretly happy he was experiencing that dryness that my friend was visualizing for him. I suggested he accept the church invitation. Without a job, what could he be doing of any importance on Sunday evening?

Later Nancy messaged to say Roma had called and had changed his mind about attending church with them.

Nancy's family picked Roma up on Sunday at 3:30, and spent some family time with my lonely boy, until the service started at 5:00 pm. As they were picking him up, I headed into my newly requisitioned prayer closet that I have utilized since Roma went AWOL in Florida. After spending silent time in the dark and praying, I headed to my favorite chair and opened the Bible for the next phase of the battle. God led me to Psalms. I "randomly" (right!) began in chapter 139.  I was struck in verse 5 by the image of "hemming in" which had been the words of yet another Facebook sister. Then by the time I was at verse seven, I had the image of the Hound of Heaven again: "Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?"

Verse 13-14: "You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

I read to the end of Psalms and stopped to eat. I checked my email, and another new sister had sent me a link to a Louie Giglio video. It just happened to be the one I have seen, about the universe, "How Great is Our God." I sat and watched all 40 minutes of it. When he started quoting the same verses I had just read, in Psalms 139, around the 19 minute mark, again I smiled, acknowledging God's presence, and His question, "Are you paying attention, dear one? Don't miss the Miracle of My Presence!"

Monday's report brings news that Roma is actively looking for a job, and plans to return to church next Sunday. His new "extended" family in Georgia has displayed the love of Christ to my spiritually parched boy. Love like that is hard to refuse!  

    

Thanks to all who have entered the Pursuit on Roma's behalf with your prayers and answering the still small Voice to respond to Roma and me. I am comforted and awestruck as I imagine God's earthy creatures joining the Heavenly realm in the pursuit of one lost soul.  

Try as we might, we can never elude God. The best we can do is deceive ourselves that we have hidden from Him.  Perhaps, like Saint Augustine, we pray for God to take away our lust for worldly things. And like Saint Augustine, we add, "but don't do it just yet." We don't understand that only Living Water can satisfy this hunger and thirst.  Like it or not, we are made for God.

It is impossible to grasp the depth of God's love for us. "What are humans that You are mindful of him?," David asks in Psalm 8. I ask too. But I am reminded by God, who is always nearby, that Roma is a treasured child of the most High God. So am I. So are you. 

Why do we want to hide from that kind of Love?

Continue this story with Angels and Demons, part one

The Hound of Heaven Winks

I recently heard prayer described as unleashing the mighty powers of Heaven. I am a visual learner, so I easily "see" that imagery. My friend said it like this: "There is a spiritual battle going on in the heavenly realm and when we pray we offer the angels from heaven power to fight the battle against evil." The all-powerful Hound of Heaven and His army are relentlessly pursuing His people for His glory.

If you read my book,  But the Greatest of These is Love, you probably fell in love with my charming son Roma, now 19, adopted from Russia at the age of seven. I tell this story not to expose Roma's life and invade his privacy, but to glorify God. 

Roma went into drug and alcohol rehab in Florida in early March. Prior to his departure, he was out of control, making bad choices. If his lips were moving, he was lying. He stole from his family. He stopped coming home at his midnight curfew. His anger raged against his dad and me. He wanted freedom to live as he wished.  

We knew this plan would fail, but we were powerless to control him. We told him, sure, he could live his life his way, just not in our home. He had to go. We believed living on the streets, for the second time in his young life, would not foster growth for this young man who was removed from his Russian family after repeated reports to the authorities that the small child was begging on the streets for food. We offered an alternative after much prayer, research, and reaching out to anyone who had experience with addictions. A plan emerged for a thirty-day drug rehab followed by possible four-six months in a halfway house with intensive therapy. The intensive therapy was key—Early issues of trauma to adopted children often hijack their lives. A trusted young friend who got his own life together and recently graduated from Pepperdine Law School, shared his successful experience in Delray Beach, Florida. He offered me hope for Roma's success. 

In order to locate a reputable treatment center, I prayed and googled "Celebrate Recovery," a Christ-centered recovery program, in the Delray Beach area. Many churches offer CR in Delray Beach, Florida, the rehab capital of the country, apparently. One sponsoring church also had listed on their website "Adopted Orphan Care." Those words jumped out at me.  I reasoned that this church might understand square-peg Roma.  I emailed the contact name for rehab facility recommendations.  A woman emailed back and recommended a facility her own son had attended with success. My "thank you" reply included a request for prayers for Roma with a link to my book, stating that God had merged my life with Roma's in a "God story."

Roma was initially eager to head to Florida, to live close to the beach after a long, cold winter in Maryland. He breezed through the 30 days of intensive residential rehab. He moved into his halfway house, got a job, a bike, and it appeared all was well. I felt he was gradually preparing me for the idea he might not leave Florida, but stay after the half-way house residency. 

Then the rumblings of discontentment and denial began. "I hate it here. You guys made me come. I wasn't doing hard drugs like everyone else here. Just alcohol and pot. Lots of people do pot. It will be legal soon." (Roma is not a quiet kid, so read all of that with volume and passion!) We offered encouragement. I was actually glad things were getting "hard" for him. He had work to do. "Roma" I said gently, "Life isn't about doing the easy thing. You will learn so much by working through the hard stuff." Less than profound, I know, but he would only listen to short, simple sentences. We refused to allow an easy exit from the halfway house.

Earlier this week, five weeks into the halfway house program, we were devastated to learn, and not from Roma, that he had left the halfway house and quit his job. His plan was to go to Georgia, move in with a friend from his days at Fork Union Military Academy, get a job, go to college, figure it out, and make something of his life!  Reasonable plan!  But, after spending his last paycheck on a tattoo a few days earlier, he was in need of money to eat and check his bag on the plane. He texted me, unaware of my recent revelation, to ask for $40 "for groceries."  

"Nope,"  was my return text, as the truth that Roma had bailed was just, at that moment, coming into the light of day from his former counselor. The timing was eerie. The day before, news of the tattoo, also not from Roma, was revealed. We were not willing to offer financial help to our darling boy, sporting a new tattoo and who slept in a car the night before.

I texted him periodically though the day, just to remind him I love him.  He texted back more than usual, sizing up the potential to manipulate, sensing my sensitive mother's heart. He asked again if I could just help him out with $25, at least, to check his bag on his flight to Atlanta. (I would later learn his friend's mother paid for his plane fare.) No deal. The texting stopped.

That evening, May 6 about 7:45, a man called who introduced himself as Fred, someone who runs a Celebrate Recovery center in Delray Beach. He reminded me of the email written weeks earlier, long forgotten. He said the woman who received it forwarded it to him  in case Roma ever showed up at CR. 

The stranger began his story by saying "This is a God story." I lowered myself into a nearby chair to listen. A half hour earlier, he had stopped at Dunkin Donuts. After exiting his car, a young man approached him on the sidewalk, asking if he could spare some money. 

Fred told the young man that he didn't give money to people he met on the street. But he added, "what's your name?" (Who asks strangers begging on the streets their names?)

"Roma" the young man answered. Suddenly the man remembered the forwarded email and became alert.

"I know you! You were adopted from Russia!" At this point Roma was stunned. They chatted a while, as Roma told Fred his whole history. Fred, 39, was intrigued as he has been in recovery for many years, and he was blown away by this Cosmic experience. He said Roma was there with him, and did we want him to give Roma that %#$& twenty-five dollars to check his luggage to fly to Georgia. The answer remained  "no." He agreed that no was probably the right answer. He offered what seem like an inspired plan: he would mail Roma's luggage to him when he got to Georgia. He shared his opinion that the halfway house might not be the best place for Roma at this time. There were truly hardened drug addicts there, which might frighten Roma, who, for at least the past twelve years, had lived a sheltered life. 

Once off the phone, I sat processing the call. Over 60,000 people live in Delray Beach. What are the chances that a man reading about an adopted Russian boy named Roma would be approached by the same boy a few weeks later on the sidewalk? And what made Fred ask Roma's name? I am convinced it was a Divine appointment. As I sat recalling Fred's words, a text interrupted my state of awe. My humbled boy texted his chill-bump-covered mom. He wrote,

"Only by the grace of God could that have happened! I couldn't thank y'all enough for everything y'all have done for me. I will not let you down anymore."

Fred called again later. Not wanting Roma to spend another night in a car, he took him to a Christian halfway house run by a friend, where he could sleep on the couch and would be fed. That night Roma was in the company of seven devoted Christian men. And God!

The next morning I received an email from Fred, who was apparently still marveling about the experience. He wrote, "God has tremendous plans for Roma!" I put a book in the mail for Fred! He will really be touched by the rest of the story.

The night before, I had been in tears about the path my son was choosing. But in the middle of my fitful sleep, I was comforted by a dream: I was looking through a doorway, an ancient arch of cracking plaster. I was watching a scene from Roma's life, like a movie. I was standing on the right-hand side of the entrance when I sensed someone standing very close to me. I turned and it was Jesus.

I am not naive enough to expect Roma to change overnight. It might take years. But I do believe he is keenly aware that he is being Pursued, that his life is somehow not his own. Like me, he will fight for control. Yet, I am confident that the many prayers lifted to Heaven on Roma's behalf have indeed unleashed the Hound of Heaven. 

He who began a good work will see it through to perfect completion! 

"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you: I have called you by name, you are mine." Isaiah 43:1

Praise God!  

Don't miss the next installment of this story with  Trying to out run the Hound, but steadily losing ground.