My heart goes out to you and to your husband. My youngest daughter is now 19. We have been through hell with her since she was 12 when she first ran away from home. My wife had gone to stay with her dad as he was dying from cancer … she was gone for 5 weeks. The day I went to pick her up from the airport, my daughter ran away. That’s when the police involvement began. Our lives with her since then have revolved around arrests, drug programs, mental hospitals, regular hospitals, detention centers, trials, court appearances, jail, theft, runaways. In between the drug programs and detention-centers (jail for kids) she was court-ordered to stay at home. This means that the drug traffic was brought to my front porch as all night long people came and went. We eventually gave up calling the police. We helplessly watched as my baby fell further into degradation. I remember the first time she cussed me out as I took her to her second drug program. God, that hurt. I remember the physical fight I had to go through to drag her into the car for the fourth (I think) program. She had gotten so strong I didn’t know if I could do it, but about an hour later I got her into the car and held her down as she kicked and screamed and bit and spit while my wife drove us to the place. We were devastated, to say the least … but by no means forsaken by our Father … though it sure didn’t seem like it. I remember the many times I had wished she was dead, and I came to regret the day we conceived her. There were times I was ready to punch her out … and a couple of times I almost did. Did I hate my child? It sure felt like it. You know, when your child fails so badly it goes right to the core of you. It is right THERE that you are tempted to view yourself according to the measuring stick of performance. Where did I fail? will become the REAL question behind a million others. Do you try to fix things in the hopes of making up for your failure? Do you take a stand against the evil influences and the evil doers in our society? Do you begin to wonder why your child doesn’t measure up to your own standards? Or do you beat yourself up because you are sure that he/she has become the thing you might have been? My wife responded very much as you have described by saying, “and I just feel like I wish God would take me up to heaven some night instead of letting me wake up. Help!” I wrote a song for her shortly after we took our daughter to that fourth drug program. She, too, was devastated to that same degree. I include it below: SOFTLY DOWN Lay your head softly down … let His peace surround you like a healing crown Wipe your eyes gently dry … in His arms He’ll hold you when you cry though it seems as if all you need quickly slips out of touch all your dreams have faded too much Give your heart though it breaks … bear your soul again like a wound that aches Know the sorrow, feel the pain Share the joy of heaven you cannot explain Don’t believe it that all your love has wasted away all you gave has died with the day How many times you’ve told yourself it really isn’t worth it to go on but somehow life just keeps on racing by and leaves standing on your own Lift your voice, don’t be afraid … He has not forgotten, all His plans are made Drink the wine that’s bittersweet … there is true communion down before His feet Don’t forget He will Be your hope when all else is gone turn the sorrow into a new song Love, Jim