The news is devastating—your child is on drugs.
Your emotions ricochet. You’ll do anything to save your child, but you can’t stand what he’s doing to the rest of the family. You pray for a miracle, but you’ve heard of other families where the anguish lasted for years.
You fear for your child. You fear for your marriage. And if that weren’t enough, you fear for your job—you’re in the ministry.
Leadership gathered three pastors and a pastor’s spouse to learn from their experience. We appreciate their candor and their courage.
Norma Bourland lives in Minnesota with her husband, Gene, who has pastored First Evangelical Free Church of Minneapolis for five years. They have four children. Norma works part-time as a child advocate network coordinator.
In 1984 their son, Stephen, a high school freshman, began using marijuana and alcohol. Soon he ventured into other drugs, including cocaine and crack. Stephen barely graduated from high school. After several failed attempts at further education and work, he left home. Norma and Gene heard nothing from him for more than two years.
Finally Stephen contacted his parents with the news that his girlfriend was pregnant. Stephen spent time in prison and continued to struggle with his habit. He now lives in Virginia with his girlfriend and child. For the last two years he has been sober.
Kimball Hodge is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Eugene, Oregon, where he has served for more than eight years. He and his wife, Lynda, have two children and two grandchildren.
In 1988 their second son, Evan, a sixth grader, began smoking marijuana. For the next nine years Kimball and Lynda tried in vain to persuade him to stop.
Evan married without their approval in 1995. Two years later his wife left him. Just before he moved back in with his parents, Evan had an encounter with God that dramatically changed his life. Since then he has been free from drugs and is walking with Christ. He now lives and works in Medford, Oregon.
Jim Smoke has been adult ministries pastor at Grace Church in Cypress, California, for four years. He and his wife, Carol, have three children and eight grandchildren.
In 1975, when he was on Robert Schuller’s staff at Garden Grove Community Church (now known as the Crystal Cathedral), Jim learned that his high-school-age son Todd was using drugs. For the next 22 years, Todd used drugs and abused alcohol. Once he overdosed and nearly died. He had repeated trouble with the law, was in and out of juvenile detention centers, and eventually ended up in prison.
Todd entered a recovery program called Bookhouse Two, known as one of the toughest in Orange County. Since 1997 he has been free of drugs and alcohol, is following Christ, and has a job and family. He spends much of his free time helping other addicts and alcoholics find freedom.
John Vawter is pastor of Bethany Community Church in Tempe, Arizona, where he has served for two years. John and his wife, Susan, have two grown children, Stephanie and Michael.
Early in adolescence both children went through a period of rebellion. In 1997 John and Susan learned that Stephanie, living in Denver, was addicted to heroin. They immediately confronted her. Stephanie agreed to seek help and went through detoxification and several weeks of treatment. She successfully quit heroin and since has been drug free. A year later, Michael admitted to his parents he had been using marijuana nearly every day for the two years since he graduated from college.
From these families in ministry, we think you will see not only searing pain but good counsel and much hope.
Each of you did not learn about your child’s drug use until the habit was established. Why isn’t the beginning of this problem evident to a parent?
Kimball Hodge: Even if you see it as a possibility, you don’t want to believe it. You think of every other possibility, until the phone rings and it’s the police. Even if you find the stuff, of course your child tells you, “My friends left it.”
Jim Smoke: You think if your kids are involved in church things—my kids grew up while I was at Youth for Christ, surrounded by church and ministry, and even went to Christian schools—you think, This can’t be happening. My son was living a double life.
John Vawter: Stephanie has said, “To be a successful addict you have to be a great liar.” Somebody told me addicts will do anything to be able to use, even if it’s getting straight A’s or excelling in sports.
When you have suspicions, should you confront your child?
Norma Bourland: You have to take action. If we had done something at the beginning, our son would have been angry at us, he would have used all his con tricks to get out of it, but maybe it would have prevented the long “roller coaster” ride. Maybe it would have prevented the habits from becoming so well established that it had to take years to be free.
What went on in your soul during this time?
Bourland: I started with confusion; I was trying to understand what was going on so I could fix it. Then there was frustration, not being able to get a grip on it. Then anger, with moments of sympathy; I wanted to control the situation and couldn’t.
Then I went into weariness because it was going on and on. I would sit in a chair in our bedroom and just stare. I couldn’t think and couldn’t pray. Then I’d get emotional, wailing to God—it was as though I and my family were falling apart. I felt disillusioned and abandoned by God and very sad.
I can’t fix my kids.
I can’t make them be Christians.
I can’t keep them off drugs.
But I can love them.
—NORMA BOURLAND
Vawter: This past Sunday was the first Sunday in months that I didn’t weep through the music at church, because the thought that I am worshiping Christ with the church I love serving, and my son isn’t worshiping Christ, is an overpowering sadness. All I can do is keep giving him to God.
Hodge: Once I knew our son was using drugs, I was angry—at him, at the ease with which a kid can get drugs, at God because this isn’t supposed to happen to a pastor’s family. Then I became terribly afraid of the consequences for Evan. I felt tender toward him. I love him very much.
Long term, what I experienced was a profound sadness, which lasted for years. It was at times unbearable to see what was happening to him—and to us.
Did you ever blame yourself for your child’s choices?
Hodge: I often thought, Is this my fault? If it’s my fault, I don’t deserve to be a pastor. If I had taken more time to disciple him instead of always being too busy, maybe he would have developed deeper roots and his drug habit wouldn’t have happened.
When our son told us he had come back to the Lord, I found out my thoughts were groundless. One night my wife said to Evan, “I have to ask you some questions that have been on my heart for years. Did your dad and I spend so much time in ministry that you thought you were cheated of your time with us?”
He told her, “No, I felt you and Dad were always there for me whenever I needed you.”
“Did you ever feel we didn’t love you enough?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I knew you loved me no matter what I did. I was always assured of your love.”
“Then why in the world did you do what you did?”
“Mom, you and Dad did everything right. I was focused on myself,” he responded. “I thought what I did didn’t make any difference to anyone except me. I felt it was my life.”
Then about a month ago, I asked Evan, “What started the drug use, other than that you had some friends who were doing drugs?”
He said, “I was angry.”
“What were you angry about? Were you angry at me? Angry at God?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “I just felt angry all the time.”
How did you keep your child’s drug use from completely destroying your own well-being?
Vawter: Last Christmas I told Michael: “I want you to understand you have made choices, and I assume no responsibility for your drug use. Your mom and I have made a commitment that we will not let your drug use or whatever happens to your life ruin our marriage and our lives.”
Bourland: In our home I focused on being a good mom and doing all the right things. When my children weren’t happy, I wanted to fix them. I was always focused on them. My happiness depended on theirs, and I thought theirs depended on me.
It was a hard awakening when I realized our children’s choices are their own. They do things for their own reasons, just as I do things for my own reasons. My happiness is my own responsibility and not theirs. When I realized this, I began to take better care of myself.
Vawter: The day after we took Stephanie to treatment we walked into a Nar-Anon meeting. I realized I had to accept three things: Stephanie was an addict, I was going to be in these meetings for a long time, and it was never going to go away. For the rest of our lives we will have to be vigilant—only 3 percent of heroin addicts make it.
Smoke: The children we’re talking about are not repulsive, bad kids. Our son is tender and sensitive. If he had been an ogre, it would have been easier to deal with: just get him out.
He called me one day after I hadn’t heard from him for three months and said, “Can you come and get me?”
I drove to this gas station, and he was sitting on the curb. I thought, That can’t be him. He threw his arms around me and hugged me. He reeked; he hadn’t had a shower in a week.
“I want you to know I love you,” he said. “Thank you for doing this.” I had all this conflict inside. Does he need tough love or tender? You want to hug him and punch him at the same time. All these emotions well up.
What kind of relationship can you have with a child who is using drugs? Do you set boundaries?
Vawter: Last Christmas we took Stephanie, Michael, and his wife and kids to Hawaii. They came to Phoenix first, and I told Michael ahead of time, “When you get off the airplane, I’m going to look you right in the eye and ask, ‘Do you have any drugs in your suitcases?’ If you do, you’re not getting in our car because your mother and I have our values. There are no drugs on our property.
“We are paying for the trip, but you have to rent the car in Hawaii in your own name. I’ll give you a check for it at the end of the week. That way, if you’re caught with drugs in that car, I’m not going to have an impounded car on my credit card.”
When Michael did step off the airplane, he gave me a full body hug with his cheek right on my cheek. He said, “I don’t have any drugs, Dad.” When the trip was over, he kissed me when he said good-bye.
It’s a strange dichotomy. On the one hand the love is deep, and on the other, I think he’s hooked on something.
But we have drawn up boundaries of love. We say: We know you’re using. We’re not playing any games with you. We’re not going to cut off the relationship. We will help you whenever you decide you need help.
Hodge: We tried both sides. The one side was restricting him and the other was “Bring the guys here instead of your going with them.” Evan is a loving and lovable kid. We were angry with him sometimes, we hated what he was doing, but there’s no doubt we kept loving him. But the drug use continued no matter what we imposed. We couldn’t put enough screws down to stop it.
When your child turns 18 and he’s on his own, you can’t say, “I’m going to put you in my car and take you to a recovery program.” You become a spectator to the chaos. You feel a tremendous sense of powerlessness.
Vawter: The Sunday after we took Stephanie for treatment, a guest singer at our church mentioned that his brother was an addict, so after the service I told him of Stephanie’s situation.
He looked at me as only a family member of an addict can and said, “This is not your battle. It’s Stephanie’s.” At that point I was making plans to go up to Denver to kill the drug dealer. He was in the country illegally. He had no papers. Nobody would have known he was gone. I had it all worked out.
“If it’s not that dealer, it will be another,” the singer said. “They will spot Stephanie a mile away. There’s something that’s communicated between them that you and I know nothing about. It’s her battle, not yours.”
Bourland: I’d come home from Al-Anon meetings saying, “I’m never going again,” because I couldn’t understand what “letting go” meant. That term made me angry.
But I learned Scripture teaches a letting-go principle, done out of love and responsibility. It took me a long time. For me it meant submitting to the way things are, letting God be God and me be the dependent one.
I had to accept that I can’t do everything. I can’t fix my kids. I can’t make them be Christians. I can’t keep them off drugs. I can’t protect them. I can’t do much of anything for them. But I can love them.
How did your child’s straying affect your relationship with your spouse?
Hodge: My wife is a firm disciplinarian and aggressive at dealing with a problem. I’m more laid back. I move carefully. Even if my son was not doing the right thing, I didn’t want to break the relationship. This caused a terrible struggle between Lynda and me. We were both at a miserable loss as to what to do with Evan.
We finally agreed that I would handle the discipline. I wanted her to be free from that burden. I asked her just to love Evan and have as much fun as she could with him and his friends. I told Lynda to come to me when her frustration level got too high. She did. She would let her anger out at me. Sometimes those sessions were extremely painful, but I realized she had to have some place to vent.
Lynda was able to focus more on Evan than his drug problem. Their relationship grew. And Evan also knew that both of us were firm. Even though I didn’t move as quickly as Lynda wanted me to, our position would not change.
Vawter: In adolesence Stephanie could say things that hurt us, and then in our pain Susan and I would lash out at each other. I don’t know where we stumbled onto it, but we learned to say, “I’m not the enemy, Darling.” That was code for “You have just treated me unfairly.” We have incorporated that into our conversations about the drugs at times. It really helps.
Bourland: Gene’s personality is such that he’s able to detach and cognitively deal with things. For me it was always an emotional issue. Stephen and I have always been close, and I felt I couldn’t bear his problems alone. I wanted Gene to feel the same as I did.
Gene could say, “Stephen is making his choices, and he’ll have consequences. He’ll learn from the consequences.” I would get angry at Gene because I wanted him to step in and stop it. I didn’t want the consequences. We had many disagreements over this.
In your pain, did you withdraw from others or reach out for support?
Vawter: I don’t have the emotional energy to allow anybody into my life who criticizes how we are finding help. Alcoholics Anonymous has been a Godsend for Stephanie. Much education goes on there. I learned about myself listening to her AA tapes. We went to Nar-Anon for a year, and that was helpful. There Susan and I determined what the boundaries would be.
But unfortunately I’ve had to protect myself against friends who want to warn me that AA doesn’t honor Jesus Christ. I’ve actually memorized a response to such people because some of their comments have been insensitive and painful.
I don’t need anybody trying to figure out what Susan and I must have done wrong. I need people who will help and support me—and God has given me plenty of them.
How has your child’s drug use changed your ministry?
Hodge: This experience more than any other has tenderized my spirit toward others. I’ve lowered myself from the pedestal of thinking I have to be perfect. Of course, you can’t stand in the pulpit and tell everything that’s wrong with you, or some folks can never listen to you again. On the other hand, I can report as I go along some of what God has done to train me.
I began to see the pain most people in our congregation were experiencing—how many families were broken, how many were experiencing divorces they didn’t want, how many were struggling with wayward children. I found myself becoming far more compassionate.
How much of the struggle at home did you disclose to those in the church?
Smoke: When my son was locked up in juvenile detention hall at age 16 for a long weekend—his first such encounter—I had to teach that Sunday morning. I woke that Sunday and didn’t think I could go through with it. Finally I said to myself, I’ll have to “fake it till I make it.” I won’t say anything about Todd.
But at the end of that class I said, “I have to share something with you. This is not a happy morning. My son is locked up at the juvenile detention center this morning.” I shared a couple of thoughts, and that was it.
Afterward I could not even get down from the platform. Our singles came up en masse and put their arms around me and said, “We’re with you.”
In my current church I’m on the preaching team, and if I’m doing something where it fits, I have shared openly and honestly the struggle we have gone through.
We lead best when we lead through weakness, not strength. I don’t have that much strength to lead from, so I’d rather do it the other way around.
Vawter: I haven’t told the entire church on a Sunday morning, but it’s been no secret. People have responded wonderfully. If there have been negative comments, Susan and I don’t know about it. In our elders’ meetings, the leaders ask virtually every time how the kids are doing and how I’m doing. The other pastors and my prayer team have been most sensitive and strong to reach out to me when I have been weak and teary-eyed.
Did you ever seriously consider leaving the ministry?
Hodge: I have struggled with standing in the pulpit and saying something I’m not yet experiencing. I can tell you how you ought to live; I just can’t do it myself. It seems to me that’s like lying.
When Evan was about 15, I told him, “I don’t think I can continue being a pastor if you continue being a rebel. I think I’m disqualified because Scripture says if a man can’t manage his own house how shall he take care of the church of God?”
Evan was shocked. He was near tears and said, “No, Dad. You can’t leave the ministry. You’re a good pastor. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m still responsible,” I said. “You’re in my home.”
Each time I thought about quitting, though, a quiet conviction came to my heart that I had to go ahead and out of obedience preach the Word. We can think we will somehow be immune to this stuff, but God has shown me that is idealism, not biblical truth. I’m a real person with real struggles.
Bourland: Someone gave me a helpful article a few years ago titled “God Had Trouble with His Family, Too.”
Vawter: Others can give you “spiritual back rubs” and tell you people were bad in the Bible, but it’s still a personal struggle for me. Some days I wish I was old enough to retire because the pain can be so overpowering. I did a series on Colossians and hit the subject of family last summer. I wondered, How am I qualified to speak about this? Somehow my heart has to catch up with my head.
Addicts will do anything to be able to use, even if it’s to get straight A’s or excel in sports.
—JOHN VAWTER
On the other hand, God has done a tremendous work in my life. When I found out Michael was doing drugs, I was profoundly saddened. I told Susan, “If I am this sad in a year I will quit.” Well, a year later I am strong enough to sponsor a conference for pastors whose kids use drugs.
What would you say to those who have recently discovered their child uses drugs?
Smoke: First, circle the wagons of caring people around you. You need a support system.
One of my best friends is a psychologist, and his son went through some of this stuff, too. We hung onto each other. We would sit in restaurants and cry. We knew we were together in the same soup.
Second, find people who can talk to your child.
The power in Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous is the people in the room telling their stories. Your child will not always respond, but somebody has to say, “Let me tell you my story. You absorb it and think about it.”
Third, find the programs that really work and recommend them to the child. Programs work when people work programs. You can’t just commiserate and pray about the problem. You have to take tangible action steps.
Fourth, never give up on what God can do.
A few years back, I wrote my kids a Christmas letter that contained my wish list for each of them. I sent that letter to Todd in Ironwood Prison and on it were four hopes that I had for him. The girls commented on their letters, but I never heard a word from him.
Then this past Christmas he came over to spend the day with us. He handed me an envelope and said, “Here’s your gift, Dad.” It was the letter I’d sent to him in prison. He had checked off all four things I’d listed and had written, “Thanks, Mom and Dad. To the best of my ability, one day at a time. Love, Todd.”
On Christmas my wife said, “Thank you, God. We got our son back.”
Editor’s note: Bethany Community Church of Tempe, Arizona, will sponsor a conference on August 6-7, 1999, for ministry couples whose children use drugs or other addictive substances. Hosts John and Susan Vawter say the conference will be confidential and compassionate. The event is tuition-free. Call 602-752-8994 or www.notalone.org.
Gary Preston is pastor of Bethany Church 5495 Baseline Rd. Boulder CO 80303 GDPresto@aol.com
Copyright © 1999 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
