Thoughts from a Marijuana Pipe

From January 2012

I log on to Facebook. I’m terrible with FB….I forget to check it on a regular basis. Now, being the good parent that I am, I look at my 15 yr old son’s page.

Aww….that’s a cute picture of him and his friend……wait a minute!

I read the caption:

“We were so out of it”

Next picture “We be floatin’”


I steal the picture off and use my editing program to blow it up. Even in black and white I can tell his eyes are fried. I know that look……I’ve seen it in the mirror.

Crappity Crap!

I knew the day would come and am thankful he wasn’t 12 like me. Ok, I need a 2nd opinion and my hubby is asleep because he works nights. I call my BFF of 20 yrs. She’s seen that look in her mirror too.

“Yep, he’s stoned”

Crappity Crappity Crap!!!

I search his room. Please don’t let me find any in my house….please don’t let me find any in my house. There’s no way he would dare bring it here. He knows my past. I have always been very open and honest with him about my history.


It’s hidden under a can of dip. I sniff it….just to make sure, but I know what it looks like. I’ve had my share of it.

What should I do?

Hit my knees

Lord, guide us through this. It’s not a shock. I know it exists. I was expecting it at some point. I know it’s lure. Don’t let this be a gateway like it was for me.

School ends. He walks in the door and knows somethings up.

(us) Have a seat dude

(him) oookkk???

(us) Been smoking pot?

(him) ummmm…

(us) Try again

(him) **insta-tears**

(us) Is it in this house?

(him) ummmmm….no?

**me reaching into my pocket** Try again

Actually, these are the conversations that knit us together as a family. (Obviously I didn’t repeat the whole conversation). It’s the hard times that bond us. Growing pains hurt or they wouldn’t be called “pains”. Mistakes are how we learn. If life was easy, we’d never learn anything. How boring that would be, too.

We made him flush it down the toilet, of course. Oddly enough, I think he was relieved to be discovered.

It’s hard to relinquish worry and fear to God. It’s hard to hand our children over and say “Ok Lord, he’s in Your hands”. But Abba has pretty big, wise, gentle, guiding hands and my son’s a smart dude with a prayer warrior for a mom.


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