My Prodigal Son

My Prodigal Son

Valerie Welch

            One month after my son Mark was born he began experiencing lungs problems. He was hospitalized 15 times in his first year. Several times he nearly died. When he was 18 months old, he almost drowned in the neighbor's pool. These were the first times his life would be spared.   

            Two days before Mark's 15^th birthday he climbed out of his bedroom window at 12:30 a.m. and took his father’s new Camaro for a joyride.  When a deputy tried to pull him over, he fled and crashed the car. Amazingly his life was spared; he wasn’t even hurt.   However, my son was arrested and charged with attempted murder with a deadly weapon, the car being the deadly weapon. As a result, Mark spent 5 months in the juvenile detention center. I went to visit him several times a week, and he called on the phone every night. 

            That was the beginning of 17 years of hell. During those years he became involved with drugs and hung out with a very bad group of kids. He was incarcerated so many times I lost track. By the time he was 18 years old, we were  $25,000 in debt. Every time he was arrested he promised that he would never get into any more trouble if... I would just help him one more time. And each time I did.  I spent every weekend driving to wherever in Florida he was located, because that’s what a caring mother is supposed to do - or so I thought.

            Finally, when Mark was 29, he was home and doing better.  He had a steady job and seemed to be happy. One day he told me he was taking a trip to Georgia with his friend Mike, a troublemaker. I told him, "If you do this and get into trouble, I will not help you.  I can’t go through this anymore." Of course, he promised to behave. However, after that promise I got a call that they had wrecked into a bridge.  Once again my son was not hurt.  Drugs were found in their car, so they were both arrested in Georgia. That night Mark called asking for money to buy snacks and shoes, and he wanted me to get him a lawyer.  For the first time... I told him NO - he would have to eat what was given to him and wear whatever shoes he was given.  I also replied that I would not get him a lawyer.

            After talking to my son on the phone that night, I reflected on happenings in his life -- once again realizing how he had recently survived yet another close call and also how he still hadn’t learned from past mistakes. I found myself sitting on the floor sobbing and praying.  I finally pleaded,  "Jesus, I can’t do this anymore.  I am giving you my son Mark." I decided to drive to Georgia.  Although I had not never ever driven that far by myself nor had I stayed in a hotel by myself, I knew this was something I had to do.  While there, I told Mark this was the only visit I would be making. I also told him he could only call once a month, and I would only be sending him money on his birthday and Christmas. That was the last time I saw Mark for 13 months. That was one of the hardest times I ever experienced.

            Mark's friend Mike had only been sentenced to 3 months in jail. During Mark's imprisonment in Georgia, Mike was killed in a bad vehicle accident. If Mark had not been in prison, he would have probably been in Mike's truck and also been killed.

            After finally being released Mark came home.   When he was 31, Mark met a wonderful girl. A year later they had a son who is the joy of his life. He has not been in trouble again. He works hard, supports his family, and is a devoted father.

            Two years ago I was called for jury duty. The judge asked if anyone had a family member convicted of a felony, I raised my hand. He asked me who it was, and I told him it was my son.  He came down from the bench, stood right in front of me and asked, "Do you think he was treated fairly?  Do you think his sentence was fair?" The judge was shocked when he heard my response.  I told him if my son had not been in prison, he probably would be dead now; I would no longer have a son. I told him I didn't feel that way years ago. But now I'd come to realize, I couldn’t help him anymore, and he had to stay in prison until he could learn to make better choices. The judge said in all his years no one had ever said something like that to him.

            You see... when I finally turned Mark over to Jesus, his healing began. I still continue to pray for him daily asking God to guide and protect him.