A Halloween Celebration at a Drug Treatment Center

Two Fridays a month are my House of Hope days. It's been that way for eight years. My kids know that on Fridays that's where I go from 9:00 - 11:00 a.m.. They'll even say over breakfast, "Oh, yea, mom. It's Friday. House of Hope day." When my kids were really young, they all came with me to House of Hope (a drug treatment center for women in recovery). We'd wake up early and off we'd drive, in our wood-paneled jeep, down I-15 to the sixth south exit and into the heart of downtown Salt Lake City. We'd be greeted by 40 women, who would eagerly help me carry in my craft buckets and excitedly ask, "Jodi, what have you got for us today?"



"Today we decoupage!" I announce.



The crowd rumbles, "Yea!"


By trade, I am not a crafter, but I became one because I wanted to spend time with these wonderful women. I wanted to offer hope and healing to women recovering from addiction. Crafting and lifeskills classes gave me a reason to be there with them, to learn from them, and love them. It was the "something to do" so we could talk and share our life stories.

We talk about raising children, being wives and mothers, saving money, relationships. You name it. We discuss it. And the best part is there are no pretentions or worries about putting on a show about who we are and where we come from. They know I'm a Christian woman, a stay-at-home mom, who drives a mini-van, who has never had a cigarette and never tasted beer. And they accept me anyways. There isn't a "who does she think is" sort of attitude. They just love me for who I am and who I am trying to become.

I, too, know why the women at House of Hope are there--they are addicts.  Many have served time in jail. Many have been drug dealers. Some are in the process of getting their kids back and some have lost all rights to their kids. They come from all walks of life, religions, and economics. So, what do we have in common? Perhaps the most important thing; we are all trying to better ourselves and our lives. Just like they are trying to be better, I am trying to be a better. I'm trying to forgive more fully, love more deeply, and give more freely. They help me do this.

This past Friday was our Halloween party. Two good friends, came with me. Rootbeer floats, chocolate-frosted pumpkin cookies, games, and storytelling. It was all good, clean, fun. Even a little silly at times. There was lots of laughter. Lots of smiles.

I am blessed to know the faces and names of addiciton. I am blessed to hold their babies. To give them hugs. And to encourage their fighting spirits to continue fighting. I have learned more about hope, faith, overcoming fear, and living an open and honest life from the most unlikely teachers--drug addicts. It's been an incredible journey. These women teach me more than I could ever teach them. And the truth of the matter is; we are so much more the same than we are different. So, when they thank me for showing them how to make a flower arrangment out of a carved-out pumpkin, I readily admit the playing field is unequal because their gifts to me are priceless.

I often tell them that I wish when they graduate form the program how I would love then to come live in my neighborhood so I could protect them. Because I know that not everyone is going to look at a recovering drug addicts like I do. Life is about consequences and accepting responsibility for our own actions. But life is also about second chances. And don't we all deserve a second chance? I'm certainly not perfect. In fact, I'm due for a second chance right now. By the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ, I know I can receive one. And that's a beautiful thought.

"The cookies are delicious."

"Thanks for coming today."

"I had so much fun. I can't wait to do this with my kids."

Thanks House of Hope ladies for letting me and my friends be part of your lives. You are some of life's most beautiful blessings. 

For this week, let's concentrate on second chances. Let's give second chances to those who need them. Because, when all is said and done, we all do.

Sincerely,

Jodi