The history of our family can never be told or understood without an understanding of the effect that drug addiction can have on a family. Drug addiction of one of our family members has left lasting scars on all of us.
As it says in the Bible, if one member of the body is hurt, all the members of the body hurt with it. That is true of the family. It is true of the church.
Our family’s nature has primarily been shaped by the deep wound of drugs and the deep wounds of Christ working simultaneously. It is a case of salvation being worked out by fear and trembling. That salvation is still being worked out and it still has a ways to go.
These were not the only wounds of the family. Other members were attacked and wounded by other things. But this blog deals with the drug attack.
There is nothing funny about drug addiction or its effects upon a family. A warm wonder individual when captured by drugs becomes, cold, unfeeling and psychotic. There is no depths that a person will not go to satisfy that drug addiction, no lie that they will not tell and no action that they will not take.
Drugs become a god-a true alternative Christ. Drugs you serve, and heaven and hell are found within them.
This family fought the drug wars for 15 years, and some of us may fight that war until our dying day. The effects of that fight are with us and even affect the next generation of the family. We war not against flesh and blood.
It is important to remember that the war we fought was a spiritual war; but it also had physical consequences. The horror of drugs is that they can capture a family member and use that family member as the instrument of destruction against other members of the family. That same family member when released from the drugs lives with the pain that he or she was used in this fashion. Mercifully, in many instances, they can not remember what they did.
Today’s blog does not deal with the profound scars that were inflicted upon each member of the family, and especially the Frog Prince, or in the severe damage to each of the other members of the family through the addictive experience. It deals with the drugs and the automobile-for these are the horror tales of the automobile and the people that drive them.
Drugs turns out to be the true driver behind the wheel.
In a prior blog, we discussed how the Frog Prince learned to drive. In this blog, there are three short tales. The first of three tales deals with the….
THE STOLEN CAR
The Frog Prince, had dropped out of school and had moved to the street in pursuit of the perfect mushroom. The family had ultimately come to the conclusion that an addict in the street is better than an addict in the home.
At Christmas we returned to our extended family and roots in Texana. Before we left Ozarklandia, we had locked the house and had placed the Toyota Sportscar, Mr.2, in the garage. My license plate says MR-2, causing numerous people to conjecture that Brokerbelle had two husbands, and frequently causing them to ask me about who Mr. 1 was.
Before leaving for Texana, we locked the house, and locked the MR-2 in the garage. Further we had left a protective lock on the steering wheel of the MR-2, just in case.
We make it down to Texana, and had been there for about a week when we got a telephone call from our next door neighbors. The neighbors asked if we were aware that a non-stop party had been going on at our house for three days and that the sheriff had been called out to shut the party down. Needless to say we were not aware, and we returned home.
The Frog Prince had found a keg of beer, had friends, and why not party in the house while we were gone.
Happy Holidays!
When we got home, we were met by the leftovers of three days of partying at the house, holes in the wall and numerous items missing or taken. I guess they needed them as Christmas presents.
The MR-2 was in the garage. The protective device had been cut off. A number of miles had been placed on the MR-2..
Through not so skilled detective work, I was able to figure out who had stolen the vehicle and had then returned it to the garage. It turned out there was a crumpled piece of paper on the floor of the MR-2, which turned out to be a traffic ticket. Apparently, the theft had gotten a ticket while he was out in our car. The name and address of the thief, and the make, model and drivers license of my MR-2 was on it.
We did not press charges, the car had been returned and it was just another unfortunate event of a multitude of unfortunate even that occur to the families of drug users. Our house, vehicles and lives had been violated by drugs.
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