Naming the Storm

By the time many parents reach this place, they are exhausted.

They have tried harder.
Loved deeper.
Prayed longer.
Stayed quieter.
Held on tighter.

And still, the chaos remains.

One of the most painful realities of loving a child through addiction is how difficult it can be to name what is actually happening. Parents often minimize, rationalize, or internalize the damage because admitting the truth feels too heavy - or too disloyal - to carry.

So instead of naming the storm, they blame themselves.

Naming the storm is not about labeling your child.
It is not about giving up hope.
And it is not about stepping away in a cold, detached way.

Naming the storm is about clarity.

It is the moment a parent separates love from responsibility.
Care from control.
Compassion without losing yourself in the process.

Addiction creates disruption that extends far beyond substance use. It affects trust, communication, emotional safety, finances, relationships, and identity. When these disruptions go unnamed, parents often live in a constant state of vigilance, guilt, and self-doubt.

Storms demand energy.
They demand attention.
They demand reaction.

And when you live inside a storm long enough, it can begin to feel like who you are.

But it isn’t.

Your child is not the storm.
You are not the storm.
The storm is the environment addiction creates around you.

Scripture does not deny storms. It acknowledges them. And it invites us to bring them - honestly - into the presence of God.

Naming the storm is an act of truth-telling.
And truth-telling is an act of courage.

This week is not about solutions.
It is not about boundaries.
It is not about fixing or deciding what comes next.

It is simply about allowing yourself to say:
“This is hard.”
“This is real.”
“This is more than I can manage alone.”

When we name the storm, we stop drowning in it.
We find our footing.
And we make space for wisdom, faith, and discernment to grow.

You are not weak for naming what hurts.
You are brave.
And you are not alone.