Special Guest-Christy McCranie: Turning Your Mess into a Message: Part 2

I was first introduced to Christy McCranie at a speaking engagement in Roswell, GA. She blew the cover off the ‘I-have-to-have-it-all-together-mom-façade’ which overwhelms and intimidates so many moms and often leaves us running away from each other, wondering, ‘why don’t I have my stuff together like she does'? Christy’s story comes from a place of complete honesty. It’s a worst-case scenario, one in which she could have hidden in the corner, shuddering in shame, scorned by other moms and the community. Instead, she chose to step up and embrace where God had placed her and her family, despite the consequences of her son's fateful choice. This is Part Two of her family’s very personal story.

Recap from last week:

Christy's son and four of his friends were caught using LSD following a high school football game. The boys used too much of the drug and their well-orchestrated plan for using the drug did not go as intended. Several of the boys had negative reactions to the drugs, and all five of the boys were rushed, by ambulance, to the hospital for evaluation and monitoring. One boy had serious effects from the drug and it was unclear if he would be okay. The boys attended a private, Christian school. The school had been alerted of the boys' drug usage and it was obvious consequences for using the drugs would be deemed. But what, exactly, would those consequences be? And how would they affect each of the boy's futures? What would the community say once word got out --- especially at a Christian school? What would their friends say? Most of all ... how would other parents react?

Christy continues sharing her story: Waiting

It took a week for the school to make its decision, as the leadership team met with each child, each family, and thought and prayed long and hard about the impending consequence.

I spent that week sitting on my porch praying, crying, journaling, and shouting out to God. I was desperately trying to process this whole event now that I was home from my retreat, back with my family and back in the community. I met with other moms (with moms of the boys involved in 'the incident' and moms of friends not involved). We prayed and cried. We gathered information to find out how big the problem really was.

I showed up on campus as much as possible because I felt if my 10th grader and 8th graders had to face the embarrassment of their brother's actions, then I shouldn't be able to hide, either.

After a week of the school's leaders weighing best courses of actions for each boy, they finally arrived at a decision for our son. We had no idea, however, how serious their decision would be.

The school's decision was finally rendered: our son was expelled from school because of his role in helping obtain the drugs for his peers; his friends (the other four boys) were suspended for varying amounts of time.

As the decision was delivered to us, our son sat in shock, biting his lip, clearly trying not to cry. My husband was shocked and angry, as well, and began asking question after question, processing this decision out-loud with the team of decision-makers and leaders who were not going to change their minds.

My husband and son had not expected expulsion. I was in the worst place a mom could be: I couldn’t stop any of it and I couldn’t fix it. I sat and prayed: "God get us out of here as soon as possible."

I realized pretty quickly why God had told me to stay at that retreat in Seattle, despite how little sense it made at the time. The purpose of the retreat was to learn how to help people walk through and process painful parts of their story, and for me to learn better how to handle my own heartache. Ironic, isn't it? As soon as I got home, I began applying all I had learned. God had sent me to Seattle to prepare me to walk through this painful situation and to help my family walk through it, too.

It's Not Fair ... Or Is It?

Many in the community asked me how I felt about the fact that my son was expelled from the school, while the other four boys were only suspended. After all, they were all using LSD -- shouldn't the school choose a similar consequence for all five boys?

In retrospect, I believe expulsion, while terribly painful, was the right decision for my son. Not everyone in my house felt that way, but I did (and still do). Other parents felt differently -- believing all five boys should have been treated the same - expel them all - or expel none of them. Still other parents agreed with the school's decision. I trusted the leadership of our school and believed they had the best, long-term interests of my son, and his future, in mind as they rendered their decision (as well as all the boys).

So many have asked: How could this happen at a Christian school? Putting our kids in a Christian school doesn’t make them safe or insulated or immune from the trials in the world, it just means our school is allowed to bring Jesus into the solution. It means, hopefully, they, (and us), have a 'safe place to struggle’. Those are the principal's words; he wants the school to be a safe place for our families to struggle.

I'm also not ashamed to share with you that my husband and I took our son to two different addiction specialists to evaluate whether or not he was an addict. Yes, we were terrified of the answers we might find, but we knew we had to ask the question. Thankfully, the answer from both evaluations was 'no.' We also did weekly counseling for some time to help our son come up with more mature coping skills beyond 'getting high.' He did volunteer work and I took him on a trip to Washington D.C. so he and I could connect on a deeper level.

But ... we still had long-term decisions to make about where he would attend school since the school we loved was no longer an option.

"Get-It-Together-or-You'll-End-Up-Here"

When my son was in seventh grade, I clearly felt God speaking to me, telling me that our son would thrive in military school. At that point, I brought it up with both my son, and my husband (and every year after that), but both my son and his dad were adamantly against the idea. When he got expelled four years later, my husband concurred: I could take him to tour a nearby military school as a "visual aid" -- sort of like a really good word picture telling him to "get-it-together-or-you’ll-end- up-here." But when we left the tour, both my son and I, surprisingly, said, in-synch, "This seems like a really good fit." I prayed that if military school was God’s will for our son to enroll, his dad would change his mind. It took a month of praying and waiting, but we finally all agreed, military school was the best decision for our son and began the application process.

I will never forget the pivot our family made as we pulled into the entrance of military school for our son's 30-day ROC cycle. What a monumental step for him ... and us. The only communication allowed for those 30 days was via email, with maybe an occasional call from the officer in charge of him. Talk about a change in culture.

The day he began at the school was probably more difficult for me than it was for him (as so many things are for moms, aren't they?). After orientation, my husband and I said our goodbyes and as we drove away, I remember so distinctly the utter heartbreak, exhaustion, and honestly, the defeat that overtook my soul. As our car left the school, I knew I had to put my son in God’s hands -- and leaving him at this school took that to a whole new level. I still had a husband and four other kids to care for; I couldn’t just focus on this situation any longer.

It took about a week of my son being away for me to realize the impact of his absence on our daily life and how the stress and drama were no longer a part of our every waking moment. Certainly we missed our son and the children missed their brother, but having him out of the house gave us an opportunity to regroup and stabilize.

I realized that the other teens in my home were not the 'sneaks' our son was. They were - and are - fairly trustworthy people (for teenagers)! I had put all my suspicion in our son smack-dab on them because they were (and still are) teenagers, too. I assumed (wrongly), they were doing 'stuff' just like he did. I was so wrong. Yes, they will and do have their own sets of issues, but sneaking drugs is not one of their struggles right now. It’s been great to get to know them without the shadow of their brother's problems shading my own viewpoint.

Finding Grace ... Building Community

After the news broke and we had been labeled as 'that family,' it was difficult to go anywhere in public, knowing I would surely be recognized and talked about. I remember being at one of my lowest places one morning and driving, desperately, to a Mom's In Prayer meeting at the school ... pretty much as my last resort for a lifeline and needing prayer. I was in such a bad place that I actually crawled up on one of the other mom's laps to pray (I realize that sounds a bit crazy, but it's how low I was at the time). I am forever indebted to the circle of moms who lifted me up physically, emotionally, and spiritually through prayer and unconditional love during those weeks and months as I tried to crawl back out of the cavern of darkness our family had been living in. These moms could have scorned, judged, and pointed their fingers at me. Instead, they opened their arms and hearts, and welcomed me with love and grace.

Ironically, of the five moms whose sons were involved in 'the incident', not one blamed my son for helping lead that night's activities. And, not one of us blamed the boy who brought the drugs in, either, because we all knew him, and were fond of him, as well. As moms, we all continued to work together, to hold one another's hands, and to tell each other hard truths in love as we attempted to address the problem with our sons. There weren't any accusations or blame -- which, in retrospect, is remarkable. We became allies and we all learned what it meant and continues to mean to be a community and to give and accept grace.

Amazing Redemption

Everyone wants to know how the story ends. When you walk through something as serious as this, I don't think you ever feel there is an ending point. Our son surprised us with his many accomplishments while at military school. His grades were higher than they ever were prior to 'the incident,' he participated in school plays (yes, they do have school plays in military school, which surprised us, too)! He passed every drug test he was given, and he earned promotions, JROTC honors, academic awards (Academic Top 10% but who's keeping track?), as well as the Excellent Cadet Award and the Commandants Award, and he was promoted to Staff Sergeant in five months. The true redeeming part of the story, and the piece that our son is most proud of, is that, just before his senior year, he was accepted back into the Christian school he was once expelled. The school's Leadership team saw what a huge transformation he had undergone personally and spiritually and welcomed him to complete his senior year there. It was an unbelievable honor and special blessing to be admitted back into the school he (and we) loved so much. We felt God's grace showing up and redeeming the situation in yet another way. He will graduate from the same school he was once expelled this spring and hopes to go to NYU Tisch School of the Arts for dramatic writing (prior to the drug situation he didn't even want to go to college). Things are coming full circle for our son and it has been a special sight to witness as his parents (and for the school leadership who walked this journey with our family). As with every one of our children, we don’t know what the future holds for our son, but for now, he’s in a good place, and for that, we are thankful.

My Story is Really No Different Than Yours ... Really!

Let me level with you: when my son got mixed up with drugs and then expelled, I was mortified, humiliated, and embarrassed. I'd been involved in a lot of stuff at the school for a lot of good reasons but, in retrospect, I realize I was also trying to "prove" to all the other moms (and dads) out there that I’m not a bad mom. When 'the incident' happened, I asked "why us?"

Now I understand. Something good has come from the pain and embarrassment our family had to walk through, because without it, I never would have met the dozens and dozens of moms, dads, and children whose hearts have also been broken by their own painful stories, too. Very few families are immune from painful circumstances -- addiction, expulsion, bullying, homosexuality, gender questions, promiscuity, teenage pregnancy, eating disorders, divorce, death. As parents, we must build a community where there is love, and grace for whatever situation we, with our children, find ourselves in. Most importantly, we need the safety of other loving moms (and dads) to walk this parenting journey alongside us.

But that also requires a level of vulnerability. We must be willing to share our stories and be willing and available to come along and support someone who needs us (and we will know when we are needed - trust me).

Through the pain of the last two years I learned managing my appearance, my reputation does not build community. Showing up on a new friend's lap to get comfort and prayer, that is what builds community. But hiding my struggles in an effort to 'keep up appearances' does not, pretending like I’ve got it all together does not welcome people in, and frankly, it makes me hard to connect with.

'The incident' has also made me blatantly aware of how wounded and isolated so many moms are. I believe we can change this. Here's one way: Let's agree to stop pretending we all know what we're doing as parents. I mean, I certainly know more about raising a first grader now than I did four kids ago, but most of the things I'm doing today as a parent, I'm doing for the first time. What if we offer grace more often than criticism?

Most of all, I want to encourage all of you to share your stories -- especially the painful, messy ones. God wants to use our shameful pasts and our difficult present situations to build the kingdom and to show that He is a God of restoration!

You see, God’s story is messy, from creation until the day you were born, to the birth of your children and the messy choices they are going to make today and in the future. But, He sets an example for us in His Word to share – not to hide. And in doing so, we build community, gather strength, and grow closer to each other and Him. And that's what it's really all about. Thank you for allowing me to share my story.

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A resounding thank you to Christy McCranie for showing us what vulnerability looks like and for building community through her family's story. Christy, you bravely remind us, no matter what trial we're facing today or in the future, there is power in our stories and that our messes can be messages. We are grateful for you.