Broken Hearts

I sit across the table from my thirteen-year-old son. My heart aches from many tears shed over the past days. My mind races with remnants of conversations with police officers, the department of human services, and therapists.

My body is numb. There are no words in my mouth. My hands are still.

The woman at the table with us describes some program that is supposed to help us reunify. She wants to work with us so that we can become more effective communicators and have our needs met appropriately. If we do the work, our family can get better.

I look at my son. His face is expressionless. What is he thinking inside that smart brain of his? What is he feeling? Where is the little boy I used to play with? Where is the boy who fought to hold my hand and spend time with me. Where is the creative kid I used to color with and watch as he made master creations out of play dough, Legos, and food? Where is my son?

"How does that sound?" The woman looks at my child.

The clock ticks on the wall. The hum of the air vent penetrates my ears. My hands are cold. My body is still. I hold my breath.

"It's not going to work," my son says quietly.

"Why not?"

"It just won't."

We sit in silence a few more minutes. I finger the heart necklace exposed above my v-neck shirt. My husband gave it to me on our wedding day. I've been wearing it eight years. It reminds me I am loved and it is okay to love others. Pouring out my heart to those around me is okay.

I repeat that to myself. It is okay. But I don't feel okay. I feel like I have loved too deeply and now I'm sinking. My heart is breaking. My dreams are fading.

I shiver as the cold air fills the room. My eyes plead with my son for some sign of hope. I am desperate to know this will all be okay. I want so badly for this to go a different way. I want to return to our happy place where joy and laughter abide. No more of these dark moments of fear and failure.

"It won't work."

The answer sounded final, but I wasn't willing to accept it.

"We can get through this. We just need to work with these people." I begged.

Sobering silence. The woman breaks it. She talks about the program some more and the things we could expect. I'm probably tuning her out as much as my son is tuning her out.

I begin to think about what I could have done differently. Maybe I should have endured longer? Maybe I should have sacrificed more? Maybe I should have let him have his way in our home? Maybe that's what he needs?

A small voice whispered inside me. But what about your needs? What about your husband? What about your other kids?

It doesn't matter, I thought. This is my son. I want my son. Our family isn't complete without him there. It will never be the same if he isn't there.

I can feel water creep into my eyes. I refuse to let the tears fall. I remain strong. I will be strong for my son. We will get through this.

I sit. I wait. I hope.

I feel something cold slither down the front of my shirt. I reach for my heart necklace. It is gone. My heart pounds. This isn't happening. This can't be the way it's supposed to be. Love was meant to last forever. It was supposed to be enough.

As my heart continues to pound, I gather up the broken metal. I stare at it. The chain is broken. I can't get it back on. It will need a jeweler to fix it before I can wear it again. It needs someone who knows how to fix this type of brokenness.

My heart stills. Only Jesus can fix this type of brokenness. I cannot reach my son's heart. I've been trying for a long time. It hasn't worked. I'm not enough.

Our meeting ends. My son leaves. There are no goodbyes. I walk out into the heat of the day and stand under the blue sky scattered with clouds. I breathe in deeply. This is not how I expected things to go. I was hoping for a miracle.

It's six years later. My necklace is still broken inside my jewelry box. My son is still missing from our lives. My heart still aches. But my hope remains.

I don't think any parent ever gets over the loss of a child, whether that be to death or rejection. Our children touch our hearts in a way that nothing can compare. There is nothing on this earth to fill that void.

But if I look up, I can see my Heavenly Father (the ultimate Jeweler) with open hands ready to mend my broken heart so it shines bright again.