Who Needs Rehab???

I don't know what I thought when I took this job as a Pregnancy Center Director. I knew I was called to love women. Serve women. Help women. Pray for women and their children. And hopefully, see THEM changed and empowered by the Holy Spirit. But I didn't expect that their lives would change mine. At least not in the beginning...

Let me introduce you to "M", a client of our center for over 4 years. When I came 2 years ago, I was instantly in love. Her radiant bubbly personality lit up the center every time she came in. Her beautiful 1 year old with his bouncy brown curls would usually fall asleep on my shoulder as she took a parenting class. She struggled as a single mom, working fast food with little family support. "M" told us many times that we were her "safe place". She loved Bartow Family Resources and we loved her.

We could count on visits from "M" 2 -3 times a week and were disappointed when she didn't show. One week, she didn't.

At first, we thought she must be working extra hours or just busy with the baby. Then 1 week turned into 2 and then 3. Something was wrong. Her phone was not working and any attempt to track her down led to dead ends. Then one day in January, she popped in. Very distressed and on the verge of tears. She needed diapers and some clothes for the baby. She shared that she had lost her job and things were getting bad. She was about to lose her car and her apartment and she wasn't sure what she was going to do.

We prayed for her and told her we would help in any way we could. But when we went to give her our usual hugs, she burst into tears and flew out our front door, unwilling to let us console her. Something was wrong....very wrong.

The months that followed were silent. No "M". Why was she avoiding us and what was she going through that she was too afraid to tell us? Our minds raced with fear and suspicion.

After checking with every friend she had, it occurred to me that I had once gone with "M" to her mom's apartment. I realized that the only answers we might get would lie with her. So off I went.

Unsure of which door, I knocked on 3 before I found her. As her mom came toward me, so did the strong smell of alcohol. She fell into my arms and proclaimed in tears, "M is gone!" " Gone?" I asked, "What do you mean gone?" "She's running the streets of Atlanta with a pimp" she said "and I'm so afraid she is going to die." It was a sobering story. Our bubbly, smart, funny, precious "M" had been lured away by the promise of money and a better life. She was being trafficked.

For the next 5 months, our staff cried. We prayed. We begged God to find "M" and rescue her. We stalked a facebook page that had her name, but no pictures and no posts. Weird. I made posts weekly begging her to call us and letting her know we loved her and would come to Atlanta anytime to pick her up. I left my personal cell number on post after post, and waited...but no call came.

By now it was May, but instead of waning, our efforts and desire to find her had only intensified. She was out there somewhere, being abused night after night, thinking less and less of herself and most surely losing hope. "God, spare her life and rescue her" became our constant plea. It was more than we could bear.

Then it came. A call from her mom telling us "M" had been arrested. THANK YOU JESUS! At least she is safe and off the streets. This was the breakthrough we had been hoping for for over 5 months.

After getting our names on the Cobb County Correctional Facility visitation list (a first for both of us), our Executive Director, Maryland and myself made our appointment to see "M" and drove 25 miles to the jail. We were nervous and excited all at the same time. By now, it had been had been nearly 6 months since we had seen her. Would she talk to us? Would she be afraid to trust us with the truth? Only God knew.

As we entered the facility for the first time, our eyes were wide. The children and mothers and parents and wives and yes, even husbands, waiting to see their loved ones was heart breaking. After being shown the protocol, Maryland and I were ready. We breathed a prayer as we were fingerprinted and allowed to pass through a metal security bar. We would not be seeing "M" face to face. She was in an entirely separate building and would be seeing us by monitor only. She had no idea who would appear on the other side of her screen. She only knew that she had a visitor and she was as anxious as we were.

We were seated in front of a small screen with only a hand set on the wall to speak into. The clock in the lower right hand of the screen was counting down to 30 minutes, which we were told was the maximum amount of time we could visit. We prayed again, "Lord, please show us what to say. Let "M" know we love her and don't condemn her. Use us to give her renewed hope."

Butterflies flew in our stomachs as the minutes turned to seconds and we knew we would soon be live. The screen flickered, then went out. What happened? Did she see us and get scared? What if she doesn't take our visit? We would be devastated. Ten seconds passed, then twenty as we held our breath. Then, there she was. Long red hair wet from a recent shower, eyes downcast. As soon as she saw us, the tears came for all 3 of us. There were no words on either side of that screen. Only hands. Our trembling hands went up to touch the screen and she did the same. "Thank y'all for coming. I can't believe you still remember me." she shamefully said.

"Are you kidding us?" we whispered. "You're all we've thought about. "M" we have MISSED you so much. We've been looking for you everywhere. We were so scared." She slowly got the courage to face our steady gaze. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." she said.  "It was so awful out there. I tried to leave but I was in more of a prison out there than I am in here."

We swallowed back the emotion. The scripture came to mind, "He draws us by cords of loving-kindness". "Lord, draw her to You by Your loving-kindness. Let her see Your love through us" was our plea.

As quickly as it came, our 30 minutes was over. We prayed with her and left, promising another visit soon.

As God would have it, our 3rd partner at the center, Cindy Smith, had just spoken with a new contact she had made from a ministry called Out of Darkness, an organization that helps women leave prostitution, drug addiction and life on the streets. Within a few weeks, we had our new contact set up to meet with "M" at Cobb County jail and interview her as a potential client. The meeting went so well that our friend made "M" an offer. She could go into their 18 month Christian-based rehab program and find a new life, or run the risk of staying in jail or go back to this same life she just left out on the streets. It didn't take "M" long to make her choice. She agreed to go into their residential program upon her release. But no one knew when that would be.

Miraculously, in less than a month, the judge released "M" and she left the correctional facility with trained Out of Darkness ministry leaders and headed for their safehouse. We could have no contact with her, but received a few updates from her caseworkers that she was doing well and cooperating with the program. We were thrilled.

A month later, we were informed that "M" would be transferred to her rehab home, Abba House, for at least 15 months and that we could have no contact with her for the first 30 days. Our staff prayed and waited knowing she could run away at any time and disappear from our lives again.

October 3rd, 2015. "M" could finally have a visitor. The only person she had seen face to face since her arrest was her dad, and that was only once. If I was willing to be trained in the Abba House orientation program, her next visitor could be me.

I followed all the protocols, and found myself driving over an hour to see "M" for what would be the first time (in person) since January. I had never visited a rehab home. This was a first for both of us. Fear began to grip me. What was I thinking? I was just a mom who helped pregnant women. I had no formal training for helping a drug addict or a sex trafficking victim. What would I say to her? What if I accidentally broke a rule? I was thrilled and terrified at the same time

I found her residential group home and parked near the front porch. A few girls had come out to greet me and found out that I was there to see "M". "Oh my gosh!"one exclaimed. "She is going to be so excited! She has told us all about you!" We had been exchanging letters for a couple of months. Each one was a treasure. They told me to get out and wait on the porch. "M" would be walking from the house next door in a few  minutes.

Finally, I saw her red head bouncing down the trail. She looked up to the porch, saw me, and started waving wildly. She picked up her pace as I left the porch. We met in the middle and hugged so tightly I thought we would fall backward. It was a joy-filled tear-filled moment. She quickly introduced me to all her friends and their precious children who were living there as well. It was a radiantly beautiful bunch.

Instead of gaunt faces filled with rehab shame, I was met with bright smiles, hugs, and girls who were truly happy. Happy for their friend to finally have a visitor and happy their futures were now filled with hope. It was humbling.

Our 2 hours flew by. "M" shared with me that she had truly received Christ and had been baptized 2 weeks before. I wished I could have been there. She was full of joy and hope for her future for the first time in a long time. I was amazed at how clear her thinking was and how introspective and responsible she sounded. We had always laughed at her incessant talking. Her ADD or ADHD or whatever it was only endeared her to us all the more. She was much calmer today and shared her quiet time journal with me. It was profound. I couldn't believe the wisdom and insight she had after such a short time at Abba House. I was thankful she was there and she was thankful we had connected her with Out of Darkness.

I prayed for her and we tearfully parted ways with the promise of another visit soon. Two weeks later, her mom called. "Kim, when you get "M" this week end, you can't bring her here! All those people she used to run with live across the street from me. She can't come here!" I was more than confused. Was I supposed to get her this weekend? Was I even allowed? Was she even allowed to leave?

After checking with her case worker, I learned "M" had earned her first 8 hr pass for Sunday, October 25th, and I was the only one who could take her, other than her dad, who lived 5 hours away. This would be big as "M" had not ventured into the outside world since April. And that had  not gone so well.

Since phone calls are limited, I could not speak with her but communicated through her caseworker that I would be there by 12:30 Sunday, and I was. She looked beautiful! Her long red hair was rolled in curls and her outfit was very modest and becoming, something "M" was not known for.

She was beside herself to leave the property without a staff member and I was thrilled to have this time with her. Since meals and clothes are very limited at Abba House....we would hit the buffet AND the outlet mall. We would go wherever she wanted to go and do whatever she wanted to do for the next 6 hours! and we did...

Within a few minutes of pulling off the property, the tears started. "I'm so excited Ms Kim. Thank you so much for taking me today. Can we stop and get a coke and a candy bar?" The girls are not allowed sweets, sugar, caffeine or bread at Abba House as they are detoxing and cleansing their bodies of any and all addictions, but "pass" days are different. Luxuries are allowed because they have been earned. We made a quick stop for caffeine and candy then headed to our destination.

On the way, we got behind a car. You know, the kind with stick figure stickers representing each family member. She said, "My friend at Abba House saw a car with those stickers the other day. It made us both sad. It reminded us that we don't have a husband or a family and after you sleep with everybody, no one wants you anymore." She buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

I reached for her arm and called her name, "M", that's not true. God has a beautiful future and a wonderful man out there for you somewhere, but right now, He wants You to focus on Him so He can remake you." She began to settle down and before long, was sharing with me the 6 new Bible verses she had memorized. These were not like "Jesus wept", they were long. Long and powerful. She said, "This is more about the Bible than I've ever known my WHOLE life!" She was being transformed, and everything about her life and thinking was being made new.

"M" had never been to the beautiful mountain town of Dahlonega nor had she ever strolled in and out of cute quaint shops, admiring beautiful clothes, handmade ornaments or unique jewelry. She was in awe. "My momma never took me to places like this Ms Kim. I've always dreamed of doing this. It's just what I thought. It's so pretty. Thank you for bringing me."

We slowly made our way to the family style restaurant I knew she would love. At Abba House they can only have 1 plate of food each meal. No seconds and no say so in the menu. Here, she could have anything she wanted and all she wanted.

Two other couples joined us at our family style table. They looked nice enough but I cringed as I realized "M" and I would not have much privacy for conversation. What was I thinking? The last thing I wanted was for her to be embarrassed in front of strangers for living at a half-way house or heaven forbid her dark past be exposed. It was none of their business and I would be sure to protect her if the conversation took a turn.

It didn't take long for the older man on my right to ask "So, where are y'all from?" "Cartersville" I quickly replied, hoping he wouldn't get too chatty or direct any questions to "M".

All our staff loves that "M" is a talker. That had not changed. As lunch was served, she began to give me details, quite loudly, about life at Abba House and how they take turns cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. I was beginning to sweat because she is anything but quiet. In the back of my mind I'm thinking "this little man is going to figure this out! His wife will be appalled when she realizes they are having lunch with a former drug addicted prostitute. I will be so mad if they hurt her feelings!" I was planning my speech.

By now "M" had moved from sharing mundane details about life at Abba House and was telling me what she was learning from her counseling sessions and group therapy. "Ms. Kim, do you know the story of Gomer?" "Yes M". "Well, Mr Jonathan, our counselor taught us that we are all like Gomer. It's not just the prostitutes! We all run away from God and chase after our own thing. But God is like Hosea, always running after us. It's a small book Ms Kim, but it has a BIG meaning." "Yes it does "M". I'm so proud of  you."

Now I'm not sure if Mr chatty pants knows who Gomer and Hosea are, but "M" has said MORE than enough to peak his curiosity. My palms are sweaty and I can feel him looking our way.

Then, as if in slow motion, it happened...."So" Mr curious says, addressing "M", "What exactly do you do? Are you a student here or something?" I froze. I wanted to blurt out...."None of your business jack! Now gobble up some more of those turnip greens you've been scarfing down and leave us be!" But I went silent. I knew it was not my question to answer. It was hers.

"M" took a quick breath, looked him square in the face and said, "Well, I live in a residential treatment center for women who are broken, and Jesus is healing us." You could have heard a pin drop. Mr chatty had nothing, but his wife was all ears. "M" continued, "We rely on God and Jesus and He speaks to us and we write it in our journals and we share it in group. We learn to listen to our inner core and find out where the pain we feel is coming from."

In a low tone, I hear Mr chatty ask his wife if she could pass the green beans. I'm sure he is sorry by now that he ever sat by us or directed a question to "M". Astounded that he has quit engaging her, "M" elaborated. "For example, if we were all around this table in group right now, we would be talking about what Jesus had spoken to us in our quiet time and how we plan to implement that in our daily lives. We don't take medicine to help our pain, we face it through prayer."

WOW. By now I'm at a complete loss for words and can feel the awkwardness of these 2 speechless couples. The women are nearly in tears but the 2 men are all eyeballs. The look of pure shock. That's what we all love about "M", she totally ignores body language and sees awkward silence as just an opportunity for her to keep talking. So she did.

After sharing more details with 4 perfect strangers than anyone would want to know, she summed up her speech, looked at me and said, "Well Ms. Kim, I'm ready to go if you are. I want to see this town! I've enjoyed being table mates with y'all!" And with that, we left. She was perfectly at peace with all she had shared and cared not one bit that they knew she was in a "rehab house". She was proud. Really proud, because Jesus was changing her and she wanted everyone to know it!

We had a wonderful day together that couldn't have gone better. After driving back to Abba House, I prayed with her and said good-bye. I had a long time to think as I drove home.
It wasn't pretty. Why was I squirming so at our lunch table? Was it really because I was afraid for her to be "exposed" as a girl in rehab, or was it because I was afraid she was making those strangers uncomfortable talking about Jesus?

I have to admit it was the later. After all, these people were here to relax and enjoy a leisurely lunch in a beautiful mountain town. They didn't sign up to ponder the Almighty over their meat and 3! But "M" hadn't cared at all. She didn't care that they knew she was a broken woman living in a rehab home with a bunch of former addicts and she didn't care that they knew Jesus ALONE was healing her. In fact, she wore it like a badge of honor.

So why did it bother me? Why was I so uncomfortable? I didn't really have to ask. I knew. Pride.

You see, MY pride would have kept me from uttering a word if I had been the one in rehab. They would never have known that I was a broken woman in group therapy, studying the Bible and listening for Jesus to speak to me and heal MY broken heart. Oh no! They would never have known and my pride would have made sure .

Instantly, I remembered the woman at the well. Her story had much more in common with "M" than my own, yet Jesus saw fit to record it for all eternity. He said to her, "You are living with a man who is not your husband," yet she didn't run from him. And to the woman caught in adultery, Jesus said "go and sin no more".  Neither of them allowed shame or pride to keep them from hearing His words or responding to His truth. They were drawn to Jesus like water to a parched ground. So much so, that the woman at the well went out and told the whole town about Jesus....just like "M".

So, back to my question. Who needs rehab? If rehab means "restoring to a condition of good health and maintenance" then maybe it's me. The Bible teacher, LifeGroup leader, and ministry Director in desperate need of spiritual rehab. Me. The one who needs to care a little less about what people think, and a little more about what Jesus thinks. Me. The one who is often too proud to let anyone see that she too is broken, fearful, bruised, TOTALLY in over her head, and in desperate need of a Savior. Thank you "M" for reminding me that I too am Gomer, one prone to stray, and that I need Jesus EVERY BIT as much as you do...and probably more.