A year ago I had a jumble of stories, thoughts, and ideas running around in my head, along with a desire to tell Lexi’s story. Thanks to Hope is Alive, it has all come together. I am happy to share with you the prologue to my book. I will forever be thankful to the people at HIA for editing, designing, and publishing it for me. I pray that it will be a help and encouragement to others who have been hit hard by uncontrollable circumstances of life. 

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The peeling yellowed paint on the outside of the dilapidated house spoke of the neglect and disregard of its owners. Cement steps, cracked down one side, led up to a faded blue door with a broken window pane. Surrounding the yard of overgrown weeds was a rusty chain-link fence, scraggly twisted branches caught in its grip. My breath caught in my throat as I sat in my car parked on the street out front. This was my daughter’s home. 

But then again, it was a step up from her previous home – her boyfriend’s car. 

I grit my teeth and with forced determination grabbed the bag of bread and the jar of peanut butter from the seat beside me and got out of the car. Making doubly sure I had locked it, I shoved the keys in my coat pocket and walked through the yard and up the crooked front steps, then gave a few knocks on the door. In a moment, it swung open, and the smell of stale cigarette smoke hit me directly in the face. 

“Hi, Mom.”

There she was. Lexi. Her thick brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a giant old gray flannel shirt over black leggings. She smiled as she pulled the door open wide and stepped back. “Wanna come in?”

I curiously peered into the dark room. Old mismatched furniture sat around a TV. Dust covered a bookshelf along the wall. Trash and debris were scattered everywhere. The foul, musty odor that filled my nostrils made me want to gag. 

“Really, you can come in. I’m just watching some old reruns of Breaking Bad. Everyone else is at work.” Her words sounded slurry. I looked at her face and noticed her brown eyes were glazed over. Of course.

“No, that’s okay. Just bringing you this.” I handed her the food and took a step back, needing fresh air.

“Thank you so much, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.” I knew not to give her money, and she knew it was useless to ask. But being able to give her a bit of food every now and then somehow helped soothe my mother’s heart. 

“I hope you’re doing okay…” I desperately wanted to grab her, to whisk her away, to save her from this awfulness. But I just stood there, helpless. 

“Yeah, I’m doing okay…just livin’ life…ya know?”

“Okay, well awesome. Good to see you. Love you.” I tried to sound cheery as I turned away. That was enough; I couldn’t bear any more of it. No pleading, no lecturing, no bargaining, no threatening, nothing would do any good. It was what it was. I gave a little wave and headed toward the car.

“Love you, too, Mom. Thank you.”

In a few seconds I was pulling away, away from my daughter, her sketchy, crime-infested neighborhood, and her drug lifestyle. No tears! No tears today! I preached to myself. You see, this was not my first rodeo. Lexi had been struggling with substance abuse for over four years. Throughout those years, I had learned a bit about addiction. And I was refusing to let it ruin my life. My daughter Macey, a junior in high school, had a basketball game that night. My other daughter Cassidy, a freshman at a nearby university, was planning to be there. My husband Mike and I would grab dinner with our son David, who was an eighth-grader, before the game. It was going to be a fun night with my family and friends. 

Lexi, my dearly-loved firstborn, would not be with us. And I couldn’t let my mind even begin to imagine what she would be doing. But she was in God’s hands. Like it or not, that’s the way it was.

I prayed as I drove away. Lord, please watch over Lexi tonight! Please protect her from serious harm. Please, God, speak to her soul and help her turn away from this terrible lifestyle once and for all. Only you have the power to bring about this change, and I pray that you will move in her heart. Give me patience as I wait, Lord. Draw me closer to you. And thank you, thank you, thank you, for the many blessings you surround me with every day. I WILL trust you with my daughter, and that you will bring her back to you!

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How did this happen? Mike and I tried our best to be good parents! The Bible says, “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he shall not depart from it.” What went wrong?

Why did this happen? I spent many a sleepless night grappling with this question. Will I ever understand? The perfect storm of diabetes, mental illness, and addiction struck our daughter without reason or warning.

Although I may not have perfect answers to these questions in this life, the treasures of God’s faithfulness and love that I found during the darkest times are things that I now value and prize more than anything, and I want to share them with anyone who will listen.

This is a story of love, struggle, loss, sorrow, and hope.

Available on Amazon