The God of My Understanding

On March 26, 1984, I awoke with the thought, "I don't want to live like this anymore. Today I will not drink." It was a revolutionary thought. For fifteen years I had drunk myself to into stupors, blacking out and needing the next drink to stop the shaking, the fear of facing life without it. My life was in tatters and I contemplated suicide daily. 

The thought of not drinking was terrifying. I didn't remember what life looked like without drinking. I surrounded myself with drinkers so it seemed normal to the extent any addiction can seem normal. But Divine intervention had come that morning in a simple thought. That day, I did not drink. 

By the following day, I was shaking and hurting badly. But that one thought kept going through my mind. Several years earlier I had been hospitalized due to drinking. There I had been introduced to AA. Now my back was against the wall and all I could remember was AA. I looked in the phone book and found the nearest AA group and called them. 

That evening, I went to an AA meeting. It was terrorizing to go. I had rejected AA before because they talked about surrendering to God as we understood him. The God of my understanding was vindictive, demanded perfection and looked for ways to trip you up and send you straight to Hell. I couldn't fathom trying to please an angry God. Yet, the God they presented was keeping them sober. They seemed to be somewhat happy and sane. There were different understandings, but somehow, the message got through that God would help me if I surrendered my life and will to him. 

I remember clearly the day a week later that I drove home and prayed, "Jesus, I don't deserve anything but hell, but if you'll take me I'd be grateful." That very moment I was flooded with peace unlike I had ever experienced. I knew I was going to be okay. I knew I would live. And even though navigating life now without a drink was difficult, I knew I could do it. Every morning I prayed to not drink, and every night I thanked God for another day of sobriety and for a new life that made sense. 

It's been thirty-six sometimes tumultuous years, but through some very trying times, I've never wanted a drink. The thought is anathema to me. And throughout the years, the God of my understanding has transformed into the  Lord of Love and Peace and reconciliation. I can't imagine where I would be without him. I owe him my all. My love and my adoration. 

Thank you, Lord, for another day of sobriety. 

Love Your Neighbor

It's a one news item world right now. Crime, the Middle East, natural disasters, and human interest stories are all taking a back seat to the coronavirus sweeping the globe. While it's not reached plague level deaths, the death rate is quite high compared to influenza that has up to this point killed more people. But right now, it's okay that it takes front and center. We need to live in love more than ever.

What do I mean? Jesus said one of the two greatest commandments was to love your neighbor as yourself. It's often expressed as the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have done unto you. There are those who are arguing this whole thing is being blown out of proportion. But as I mentioned before, the death rate is higher than influenza and it strikes the elderly disproportionally, as well as those with compromised immune systems. Those who are less likely to become severely ill must think about those who could.

Please think about buying everything on the store shelves before you do it. Everyone needs extra. We don't need to stockpile unnecessarily for months. Just weeks. If we follow the requests for social distancing, we will be less likely to get sick or be an unknown carrier. I work with the public daily, and frankly, I'm getting uncomfortable. My employer is taking steps to minimize risks, yet I'm 64 and taking a medication that suppresses my immune system. I'm not losing sleep over it, but I'm vigilant and thoughtful. And God understands canceled church services. My congregation is on the older side. We need to think about them interacting with younger people who could be asymptomatic.

Some are saying it's the end times. Could be, though they thought it was the end times in Paul's era. God is not missing in action. He's near his children throughout the world. And I'm always hesitant to declare Divine judgment. I don't pretend to know God's thoughts and ways. They are above mine. He said so. But I do believe this can be a time to show charity to the world by Christians stepping up to think of others more than they think of themselves. To remember food banks and to check on their elderly neighbors. To not think I don't need to worry, forgetting the vulnerable.

Love your neighbor as yourself and show God's face to the world. What you do to the least of these you do to Jesus.

Pain's Lesson

I’ve been on a hiatus from blogging for the past several months. Life sometimes gets in the way, but right now I’m sitting on the couch with my laptop nursing a broken leg. Good time as any to write.

I broke it ten days ago, and I don’t know what I did. I walked on it for over a week, in excruciating pain thinking it was an arthritis flare in my ankle. Never broke a bone before and the thought never entered my mind of that possibility. I finally sought medical help and the x-ray showed a clear break above the ankle. One friend called me a bad-ass and my son said I was hardcore to have gone that long before seeking help. But pain eventually gets you where you need to go.

Pain is a great motivator. Whether it’s physical or mental, it can only be ignored for so long. Even the most hardened people will eventually respond to pain’s insistent prodding. How we respond reveals our true emotional state. Some people waste no time when they hurt and seek help right away. Their emotional I.Q. is high. They realize when they are in high water and seek out what they need to not only survive, but to thrive in their circumstances.

Some take much longer and respond in unhealthy ways to pain. I fall into that category at times. Since I’m being totally honest, I can say I’ve come a long way from the days of self-destructive behaviors. My response to pain is more often to look for the cause than to cover up. Alcoholics drink to minimize pain. It works for awhile, until the pain of over consumption brings its own suffering: Broken relationships, lost jobs, lost self-esteem, jail, loss of health and even death.

Alcohol, drugs, risky behaviors, violence, and suicide are all ways to deal, albeit unhealthy, with pain. But pain is supposed to motivate us to seek help. It’s an alarm system to warn us something is not right. Whether it’s emotional, spiritual or physical, pain is an unavoidable part of our lives. And while it’s unpleasant, it’s ultimately a good thing. It brings awareness to our true condition. Life without pain might sound good, but like the butterfly that gains strength through struggle, so do we. I look back over the years and see good coming out of turmoil. My broken places leak mercy.

So, this bad-ass, hardcore lady is staying off her leg and letting people take care of her. I’m having to learn not to feel guilty about it. I can also say with absolute conviction, if this ever happens again, I will let pain guide me to seek help sooner than later.