14 months and counting teh days for Jacob

It has been 14 months since they took Jake into custody.  I can hardly remember a night that wasn't bourbon-laced that I have not fallen asleep thinking about him and wondering if he was okay. I think of him in that cell with the plexiglass wall, under the watchful eye of hte guards waiting with bated breath for another seizure. Every time we talk, which currently is once a week for 10 minutes via phone, he assures me that he is fine.  He is a courageous soul, always has been, and he doesn't complain to me. Bless him - he is more worried about how I am doing that he is about himself.

I have talked to parents who have lost children - and I have always marveled at their strength and peace - and I strive to have that same demeanor. I have teh knowledge that someday this will all be done and he will be back home - so it is nowhere near the pain of knowing that your child is lost forever.   But a part of me is so restless knowing that he isn't safe, knowing that at any moment, another kid could decide to hit him or hurt him....That fear is based in the reality that he has been attacked several times, apparently when you are supervised by the Department of Justice, you are allowed to watch all the R rated movies your parents wouldn't let you watch, you are allowed to swear like a sailor and if you hit someone and cause physical damage, both of you get put in solitary confinement.  Fine parenting that goes on there.  Super impressed that he has been taken away for rehabilitation only to be exposed to things I never would have let him do.

There are days that I struggle with they why of all this - and yet, I know that God is faithful and that He will use this for something good for Jake. That is the beginning of the miracle in this - his seizures and most likely his growth spurt have stopped.  He is towering at 6'5" and his last seizure was in May back when he was still at the Columbus detention center.

He is going to school and he has learned some tough lessons about the dangers of the world and that not everyone who says they are your friend is really your friend. I am sad that he has lost that innocence, but we are called to be in the midst of broken people and he'll need these skills as he gets older. So maybe that is miracle two - he is much more mature and acts more like a man of his age should act- and yet he still has that bright smile, he still says hello to all of teh guards when we are at visitation, he still teases and has that beautiful spirit.

And that thought gives me peace - there can be turmoil and drama and injustice, and yet, still within our hearts, our joy cannot be taken.