Chapter 10 - The Prayer Service

 

    Since Matt was a medical risk and would have to be housed in a medical unit, we asked permission from the courts to keep Matt under house arrest at our residence.  He was released in our custody a week after the surgery. He had not spent time with his dad and me for several years and neither of us knew what the future would be like with an added member in the household.

    Sensing our concern about the living arrangements, a dear friend suggested we have a Prayer Service with our church family. Our church, Faith United Methodist, is small and we have a membership of about 125, with attendance anywhere from 50-80 on a Sunday morning. With little preparation and planning, Polly and our minister, Amelia arranged a service for Friday night at 7:00. We all agreed that corporate prayer was needed and we would pray regardless of the number who could pray with us. Amelia and Polly notified the congregation with a Calling Post message by phone and email for those who had it.

    Joe and I arrived to find some 50 or more members of our church and community ready to take our hands and kneel with us in prayer as we asked God to handle this heartache we were feeling. We asked for guidance and direction from the Holy Spirit and for peace and comfort in the days to come. I was so moved by tenderness and emotions from my fellow Christian friends that I could do nothing but cry the entire time. That body of Christ has prayed unceasingly for Matt and our family and continues to keep all of us in their prayers daily. I thank Jesus Christ for the steadfastness of these people. They have never once made me feel ashamed or embarrassed about my son’s mistake. They are a perfect example of the love of Christ Jesus.

     I consider Matt’s release to us another miracle. His attorney and the law enforcement official all agreed that there would be a very slim chance that Matt would be released to us. After all, he had been accused of a violent crime and these were very serious accusations. And, he had already admitted his guilt. But God had other plans. He came to our house on a Sunday and moved upstairs in the guest room that became his temporary bedroom during his pre-trial period of time.

Chapter 9 - The Detectives

 

      Early the next morning, I went home to get a shower and change clothes. We had been informed by the Sheriff Department that Matt would be arrested. They have compelling evidence that he had been involved in a pharmacy robbery. They had witnesses who claimed to see my mother’s old Ford Taurus at the scene of the crime. I do not know why anyone would take a car like that to a robbery. It might not start and then what? It was missing all the mirrors and looked like a total piece of crap. But I guess it would suffice at a time of desperation.

     I recall having to retrieve the car after it was impounded from the house. I thought then that I should have just left it there at the junkyard where it had been towed. It cost me at least $150, not much more than the value of the automobile. But they were charging me a daily fee for storage and I am a rule follower. So, I paid the fine and brought it home. I was at least able to sell it for $1100 and recoup some of my expenses.

    When I returned to Matt’s hospital room, I was shocked to see two detectives sitting in his room. They had been in his room most of the morning asking questions. In fact, they informed me that My son had already confessed to the robberies. He sure picked a heck of a time to start telling the truth. There was no attorney present and Matt was barely out of recovery, but there was nothing I could do. I asked if he should have a lawyer present and the detectives informed me that he had agreed to answer questions without an attorney. Lord, what do I do now? I did not even know Matt’s story and here he was telling it to detectives without an attorney present. I had seen all kinds of television shows and even bailed Matt out of jail a few times, but even with my limited knowledge I knew not to talk to anyone without proper counsel.

    I stepped outside the room and called Joe. He was furious and told me to get him to stop. When I entered the room to tell the detectives, they informed me that Matt was an adult and able to make his own decisions. Really? Are they kidding? This was a man child who might have robbed a pharmacy with his grandmother’s Taurus, who had been using drugs since 15 and was functioning at that mental level, who agreed to talk without counsel, and most importantly…. had just come out of a major surgery and anesthesia no less than 8 hours ago.

    The detectives could sense my angst with the situation since I kept interrupting and asking my own set of questions. They concluded the questioning shortly after I entered the room. I’m sure they had enough information to send my son to God only knows where for God only knows how long. I took a deep breath, said a prayer, and continued to hide my concerns. I knew the detectives were just doing their job. I knew that they needed to solve a robbery. What I didn’t know was that they would later try to convict Matt for a series of pharmacy robberies in which he was not involved.

      As Matt lay in the hospital recuperating from his injuries, his dad and I wrestled with the situation and the plans for the future. Since Matt would not listen to us, we combed our minds for someone who might be able to reach his inner thoughts, someone he would listen to, someone he would respect. It’s divine the way the Holy Spirit works at times because Joe and I thought of the same person at almost the same time, a minister friend who just happened to be married to Joe’s boss. He was an older gentleman with a calm nature who was extremely knowledgeable about the Bible. Joe agreed to call Doug first thing in the morning.

      At around 9:30 the next day, Joe received a phone call in his office. On the other line was Doug who was telling Joe what a nice visit he had just had with Matt.  Doug said he had a strong urge to visit Matt in the hospital and had followed through with the nudge. Stunned, Joe replied, “Well, Doug that was just your Boss (God) telling you to go to work. I was just about to call and ask you to visit Matt. What a coincidence!”

      Joe explained that he and I had both decided that Doug would be the perfect person to talk to Matt.  To that, Doug replied, “Well, you know, I don’t believe in coincidence.  A coincidence is just a miracle that happens when God doesn’t want to take the credit.” Joe had never heard that expression before and neither had I at that point. Later that weekend I was preparing for a Bible Study I was facilitating by Beth Moore. As I was previewing the DVD for the lesson, Joe entered the room. Just as he did Beth utters the same words, word for word. “A coincidence is just a miracle that happens when God doesn’t want to take the credit. “Her words brought Joe to a standstill.  Doug was right, there is no such thing as a coincidence.  Hearing those words of assurance twice in three day was simply a little “wink” from God. Even in the middle of chaos, God assures us that He is still in control.

Chapter 7- The House ---- Chapter 8 - The Hospital

                                                                   

Chapter seven

The House

   When I arrived at the house, I knew we were facing something big. I had feared that all along. I had hoped that this was a simple break-in. Matt lived in a rather secluded spot just off the highway. The property also backed up to the high school. My heart sank as we pulled into the driveway.

    My first clue was all the flashing blue and red lights. There were police and fire trucks from several municipalities and different locations. Yellow tape surrounded the house and drive.

    I froze. I mean I literally froze. My legs would not move. I was sick to my stomach but not like I was about to throw up. It was more like I was weak. I believe now if I had gotten up, I would have fainted. That kind of sick. I had been dealing with this possibility and now it was happening. All my praying and I was still having to face this! Lord, help me, please!

   Joe got out of the car and went over to talk to the policemen, sheriff deputies, firemen, and plain clothes detectives. This was BIG! I simply sat in the car. I don’t remember if I prayed or cried, I think I simply just sat. Thoughts were going through my mind faster than the speed of light. That, in itself, can cause nausea.

    Matt had told us ways he had gotten money for his drug use and we thought maybe he had been caught stealing. This was much worse. Joe returned to the car with the news. It was drug related but the detectives would not share how at the time because there was an ongoing investigation.  He did tell Joe that Matt was in over his head.

    In over his head? What did that mean? I could not even think of that at that time. I had a son who might be dying from a gunshot wound lying at the trauma unit at UAB. In hindsight, I do think the authorities were more concerned in the drug investigation than the home invasion. No one ever attempted to locate the shooter.

 

 

Chapter Eight

The Hospital

 

     When we arrived at UAB we went immediately into a conference with the surgeon. According to his observation of the entry wound and the exit wound, Matt had been shot at close range by a high-powered weapon. Entry wound? Exit would? I had never thought about a bullet making two holes, but I guess that makes sense. Really, nothing was making sense at the time.

     He explained that the bullet had entered Matt’s shoulder, possible hitting his clavicle, then exiting just below his lung. Matt had also lost quite a bit of blood.  I was no expert but I knew this was serious. What he wanted us to do was to sign to give permission to operate. I asked about our financial obligation and was assured that Matt would be the responsible party since he was a 30-year-old adult male. He also warned us that this was a very serious situation. He would not know the extent of Matt’s injury until he went in for the surgery. There was a possibility that Matt could lose his arm, or worse, he might not make it.

    So there sat Joe and I, pondering and praying for our son’s life. I had long since realized I had no control in the outcome of Matt’s life. I had tried every possible way to control his actions. I had chased him down, traced phone numbers, looked up car tags, kicked him out, bailed him out, prayed with him, and prayed for him. I had finally decided to give my problem with Matt over to the Lord. Only those who have been in extreme situations understand that there comes a point when the physical body can do no more to influence or control another individual’s actions. Hopefully, most people will realize this truth before their conditions become so critical. I was at peace that God was in control. But Joe had not reached that point. He had left much of the consequences up to me because we would argue about how to handle Matt. He felt like I was undermining his decisions but the Holy Spirit would often direct me to a new path. Add my grandmother to the equation and Joe was very disgusted and frustrated with everything relating to Matt and rules.

       After a six-hour surgery, the surgeon met with us to explain the “miracle.” The bullet had entered Matt’s arm at just the right place. A half inch in one direction would have cost him his arm, a half inch in the other direction would have blown his heart apart. RIGHT WHERE IT NEEDED TO BE! I honestly got chills when the doctor told me those words. Or maybe it was a nudge from above to remind me who was in control.

      The doctor was able to save Matt’s arm but the incision was unbelievably difficult to look at.  I don’t remember the number of stitches and staples but his scar runs from the top of his shoulder down past his elbow.

      We waited to see him after recovery. It had been a difficult night for all of us, but Matt had survived.  By the Grace of God, he had made it. I knew at that point God had a specific plan for his life. I just didn’t know how difficult the plan would be for all of the family. Joe and I talked to Matt about telling the truth. We soon found out that he had heeded our advice at the worst possible moment.

PART 2 -The Incident

Chapter Six -----The Phone Call

      Some events, like the birth of a child, impact us so much that they are ingrained in our memory.  We can recall every detail. Most are positive events but sometimes there are negative events that affect our recall for details.

      I had such a life-changing event on January 10, 2010.

     Joe had just returned from the Alabama National Championship Game in Pasadena, California. The game was played on Thursday so his flight brought him back on the following Saturday. At that time, Matt was living in my grandmother’s old house she had moved when she sold her property to the school. My brother and I had inherited Mama’s old house, so Matt was living there rent free. It was better than dealing with the arguments on a daily basis.

       Joe and I had just settled in for the night when the phone rang. Another late-night Phone call, what now? When I answered and said hello, I heard a sweet female voice on the other end speak these words, “Mrs. Hobby, I am a nurse at the UAB trauma unit downtown. We have your son Matt. He has been shot.”

     What? Did I just hear her right? He has been shot, not arrested? I think I asked her if he was okay or even alive. I’m not exactly sure because I was in shock. I do remember her saying he was conscious and wanted to talk to me. I recall his words because they were so bizarre coming from a person who had just been shot. He said, “Mom, I don’t think I got a chance to lock the door to Mama’s house when I left. Please check on it before you come down here.”  Maybe that was God’s way of making me stop at the house before I went to UAB, because otherwise we would have bypassed the house on our normal route. I was not prepared for what I encountered when I drove up.

      Joe and I would find out later that Matt had been a victim of a home invasion. Unknown to us, he had robbed two pharmacies and stolen several thousand dollars in drugs, mostly oxycodone his drug of choice. I suppose word of his robberies and the possibility that he held quite a stash of drugs had gotten out on the street because someone broke into his house the night of January 10, 2010 and approached Matt at point blank range with an AK 47 assault rifle. Matt said the intruder pointed the gun at his head but he grabbed the barrel just as the shot went off. Matt’s hand moved the barrel ever so slightly so that the bullet entered his left shoulder. The doctors speculated that the bullet penetrated his shoulder, hit his clavicle upon entry, ricocheted down and exited out his back below his left lung. It was a miracle that he was not killed or even lost his left arm as a result of the gunshot.  I have lost count of the number of miracles in my son’s life.

 

 

Chapter 5 - Lies and more lies

  

    Regardless of how many times I tried to catch Matt at lying, he always managed to evade getting caught. When he did, somehow, he managed to convince me that I was mistaken or that what I had seen was not really what I had seen. He was a master at manipulation. When I was finally able to read through his schemes, he would manage to get his dad on his side and convince him that it was me, not Matt that was wrong.

      I suspected that he might be skipping school but even if I tried to follow behind him and check in the school parking lot he always managed to be there when I checked. It was almost like he had a sixth sense with the ability to read my plans. I did catch him once which I am certain that the timing was a God thing.

    Matt had driven to school. His younger brother had called me to check him out school because he had a fever. I was on the way to take his brother to the pediatrician in Pinson, when I met Matt in his car pulling on to the main road from a side road. He was riding around in an area nowhere near his high school. I made sure he knew I saw him and this time I had a witness with me.

     It did not matter if I had evidence, once he was confronted, he always put up a fight. The arguments were senseless, because Matt’s line of defense soon became a threat to commit suicide.  I admit there was a feeling of responsibility that came with the threats. Maybe he really would do it just to make me feel bad. After all, he said the most hurtful things to me that I never dreamed he would say, and he had done things I never thought a child of mine would ever do. I had raised him in the Church with a respect for the Lord, but all bets were off now that drugs had entered his body and altered his mind. I didn’t know what he was capable of doing anymore. This was not the sweet, complacent, intelligent child I had rocked to sleep on my shoulder even after his feet would touch the ground as I held him. I thought I had been through the worst part of his addiction, but I would soon find out he was capable of much, much more.

       When he was living at home, Matt would sneak out at night. Once he had taken Joe’s company car some place for who knows what.  We heard activity in the living room, and we got up to see what was happening. Joe confronted Matt about the car. He asked him if he had taken the car anywhere. Of course, Matt said no. Joe warned him of the consequences if he was lying. Matt assured us he was not. Joe then proceeded to go to the car and touch the tail pipe which was hot to the touch. We knew he was lying and even in the face of the truth he still denied it. That is the way with an addict.

     Matt’s actions often had an effect on his relationship with his brothers. I remember one argument with Matt when he threatened to harm himself. My youngest had a very important football game, one that determined the team position in the state playoffs. Brad was the starting center and this game meant a lot to him and his team. Since we could not reason with Matt, Joe and I decided to go on to the game. We had not even made it to halftime when I saw the school resource officer and a paramedic, I knew scanning the crowd. They appeared to be looking specifically for someone. I pointed them out to Joe, but he was too involved in the game at the time. As they continued their scan and moved closer in our direction, I began to have a strong sense of dread. I was getting a knot in my stomach. They stopped in front of us and began their assent to the reserved section where we were seated.  Halfway up our eyes met and I knew there was trouble. Matt had called my grandmother and told her and my mother that he had a knife and he was going to slit his wrists. Afraid of what he might do, they had called the police.

     Matt had run into the woods behind our house. Since the sheriff deputies were unsuccessful in locating him, they came to get Joe and me. I was not only humiliated and embarrassed, I was MAD! How dare Matt interrupt the most important game of Brad’s season and for us to find out in such a public place among friends and acquaintances. Since I was on the City Council and a teacher, most people knew who I was. Now I was having to walk out of the stadium escorted by the authorities. I was so angry and tired of the drama that goes with addiction. I started crying simply because of the frustration. The paramedic suggested that I just stay in the ambulance and wait it out while Joe went to the house.  Bless his heart. I did and felt better after a few minutes of screaming and crying.

       I know there were multiple arguments led to multiple confrontations, but some I remember more vividly than others.  Once Matt wanted to prove a point to me. What we had been arguing about I don’t even remember, just what followed. He could get violent at times, but he never struck me.  This time he had broken a lamp and kicked one of the posts on the steps on the front porch and broken it. In his rage he decided to call 911 to prove a point. I asked him not to because I feared what would happen. He hung up before they answered but they were required to call back. He tried to explain to the dispatcher what had happened by mistake, but the sheriff deputies showed up anyway. They looked around, saw the broken items and arrested Matt for domestic violence. He was taken in right from my living room. I’m sure all the neighbors saw the police cars and Matt leaving in handcuffs.

      Arguing with an addict is like arguing with the devil, DON’T! You won’t win! It is a battle that takes place in the heavenlies. Matt was not the devil, but he was being tormented by drug demons. I know firsthand that the battle is not ours, but sometimes it is difficult being a war casualty. Like it says in Ephesians 6:12,” For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”

As a mother I was able to separate his actions from the person, kind of like hating the sin but loving the sinner. But the law was not. Actions produce consequences whether they represent the true self or not. Matt would soon find out just how those actions and consequences would change his life forever.