Speaking Despite the Cost
I delivered flyers to every parish in the diocese. Each visit was a way to introduce myself and my work. I’d ask, “Would you mind posting this flyer for a recovery retreat for families affected by addiction?” The responses were mixed. Some thanked me. Others paused, “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask.” A few said, “No. Thank you anyway.”
It was the nonverbal communication that really got to me. Stern looks, eye rolls and obvious fearful uncertainty. My heart felt heavy.
I knew early on that I would have to speak about our family’s recovery journey. Faced with an adult child’s addiction felt hopeless. Yet it was the reason that we found a 12-step program and learned of the parallels to Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises. These tools offered hope when we couldn’t see a way forward.
Sharing our story took time. It was imperative to learn how to do it in a way that did no harm. It was important to share only my story. The hope that I’d been offered was so life-giving that I couldn’t keep it to myself.
Naïvely, I set out to make a difference. Like James and John asking to be on Jesus’ right and left sides, I didn’t understand the cost of making a difference. I thought that since my loved one was sober, the hard part was over. This work was an entirely different battle and I had only just begun.
The battle began within me. As Ignatius would say, the voice of the enemy whispered, ‘Who do you think that you are trying to help others? You aren’t an expert.’
Nevertheless, I kept moving forward. Mental health topics are still frightening. Fear comes off as anger. It felt hurtful. Prayer and discernment helped me realize that hurt people, do in fact, hurt people.
I began to approach each person as a family member who needed help. When I was met with anger, I pivoted and prayed, ‘Lord, you know this person’s struggles. Please help me to provide a feeling of safety.’ I noticed the prayer changing me. I stopped reacting.
When discouraged, I followed Jesus and found my own desert and prayed. I learned to let go of outcomes, step outside of myself and began to see others.
I remembered why I wrote my book. I imagined a mom out there who couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know where her adult child was; if he was alive or dead. She only knew that her child was suffering. She was afraid to tell anyone about what she was going through because if she did, what would they think of her child? What would they think of her?
Each little suffering chips away at my ego. 12-step friends say that ego stands for edging God out. I think that they are right. The sculptor is stripping away unnecessary clay, leaving a clearer image of who I was created to be, with each slice of the sculpting knife.
The path that Jesus took is the same one that we are invited to take. Make no mistake, it is not for the faint of heart. The reward is found in time spent walking with Christ. Getting to know Jesus helps us grow closer to knowing who he created us to be.
Last October I was keynote speaker at Guest House, a rehabilitation center for priests and religious. The morning before my speech, I was asked to spend some time at the treatment center. I was asked by the psychologist to tell the priests and religious what it would be like when they returned to their home parishes.
“I don’t have good news.” I said. “They need to know the truth.” He said. I told them the truth. “When you feel able, sharing your story will have more of an impact than anything that I will ever say. Your stories will make a difference.”
One priest said,. “I’m just trying not to drink tomorrow and you’re asking me to share my story?” His fear was palpable. “Yes, not today or tomorrow. As you grow stronger, I hope you will share your story, bit by bit.”
Recovery is a process that includes helping others. When we reach out to others it strengthens our recovery. What they say is true: Healed people can heal people.
The invitation in this prayer from St. Teresa of Avila is open to all of us…
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
It is my prayer that in whatever way that you feel called, you will be willing to speak your truth despite the cost. Healed people can heal people.
Going Deeper Together:
- Does your parish need a mental health ministry?
- Resources for Mental Health First Aid Training?
- On Being Men and Women for Others
- Do you provide pastoral care ministry? Consider joining our Pastoral Care Collective.
- Other resources to read from previous blog posts:
Thank you!
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Photo by Armand Khoury on Unsplash
Jean Heaton
Jean Heaton is a blogger, writer, speaker, teacher, and a workshop and retreat leader. Both her husband and son are in long-term recovery, and she has worked her own Twelve Step program for those affected by the addictions of others. Jean is the author of “Helping Families Recover from Addiction.” She shares her experience, strength, and hope with others at www.jeanheaton.com.
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