By Stephen C. Schultz The dew around the window was starting to bead up. In a classic case of chaos theory, the little beads of water gave way to gravity and randomly bounced and bumped their way to the window sill like a steal marble in a pinball game. There was a small pool of water in the cracked and peeling beige paint. I sat facing the window, staring at the small engraved stone nestled in the flower beds. There weren’t many flowers at this time of year. Mostly rhododendrons and Oregon grapes reaching skyward from the damp bark mulch that covered the planter area. The month of January in Eugene Oregon was filled with days and days of mist and fog. In fact, pretty much from October through June was filled with fog, rain, mist, showers, freezing rain and occasionally snow. The local weathermen didn’t bother with predictions about the chance of precipitation; they took pride in developing new adjectives to describe the type of precipitation and how much you can...
By Stephen C. Schultz It was a warm summer day when the call came to my phone. On the other end was the mother of an adopted son. Just days earlier, she had uncovered some deeply concerning and risky problematic sexual behavior. Her voice carried a mix of shock, fear, frustration, disbelief, and embarrassment. She found herself using words and discussing topics she probably never imagined she would speak aloud as a parent. Unfortunately, this is not an unusual call. In fact, these are the conversations I have almost every day. They come from families all across the country. Parents who have been thrust into a reality they never anticipated. Families whose lives have suddenly become filled with questions, uncertainty, and concern for both their child and the people around them. The details may vary, but the emotions are remarkably consistent. "What happened?" "How did we miss this?" "Is my son dangerous?" "Can he get better?" "What do we do n...