“How blessed is the man who made the Lord his trust.” ~ Psalm 40:4
One fall afternoon I was parked on the shoulder of a rural highway about 50 miles southwest of Ashland, Kentucky. As I sat there completely hopeless and numb, I considered what few options remained.
Roughly 9 hours earlier I had been informed that my father lay dying in a hospital. If I was to see him before he passed, I would need to be on my way for this 10-hour journey back home. With little time to spare, I quickly threw a few changes of clothing into a gym bag and raced out the door. Realizing that I had forgotten the most important thing in my life, I ran back into the house and dug deep inside the storage closet to find it, for I was surely going to need it. It wasn’t my blood pressure medication… it wasn’t my Bible.
It was a full, unopened bottle of liquor.
Dad had been sick for a while. I knew that this moment would eventually come; this day when I would no longer have him in my life. But what I had failed to recognize, until that very afternoon, is that because of my alcoholism – this moment had already come to pass a few years earlier. Not long after receiving the news of his terminal diagnosis, I officially stopped caring about anything. I had essentially clocked out of life and sat at home alone drinking my life away.
I was less than an hour away from the hospital when my brother called to inform me that he had passed away. I continued driving another ten minutes or so before the overwhelming grief and shame of my existence overcame me, forcing me to pull off onto the shoulder of the road.
How pathetic are you? Your father needed you. Your mother and siblings needed you. And still – you didn’t care. Because had you cared, you would’ve made time to be with him the last few years of his life. And for what? So you could continue throwing your life away with the help of a bottle? Your life is meaningless. You’ve failed as a father and husband. You’ve failed as a brother and son to two parents who deserve more. You are worthless.
I was at a crossroad in my life. As I sat there weeping uncontrollably, I reached over and unbuckled my seatbelt. About a half a mile up ahead there was a bridge overpass. I had more than enough distance between my car and the concrete pillar to end my life in a fiery blaze. I thought about my wife and kids. I thought about how I’d neglected them. They deserved better. I certainly didn’t deserve them. As I readied myself to exit this life, I finally reached down to put the car in-gear and begin my suicide mission.
But I couldn’t do it.
Maybe it was cowardice. Perhaps it was knowing where my soul was destined for eternity. Maybe it was not wanting to put my own family through more sorrow and pain. Maybe it was all of it. But I couldn’t bring myself to end my life.
That afternoon, October 5, 2018 – I sincerely prayed and asked God for help. And that day, an old life was put to death and a new life was miraculously given.
This new life has been worth hanging around for. Yet it has not been void of problems or occasional moments of fear and uncertainty. Since getting sober, I’ve suffered enormous loss; the loss of financial security; the loss of close friends who’ve passed on. The loss of a young sister who died way too early in life, followed by the loss of a mother who was devoted to Christ and loving her children.
So what has made this new life worth living?
It’s not more money. It’s not better health, although these things have certainly been blessings. It’s not waking up every morning with the ability to remember what happened the day before, or where I parked my car, although those are wonderful things. It’s not being a part of my family’s life again, being reliable and trustworthy, being there for them to experience all of life’s joys and frustrations, although these things are above and beyond any value I could put on them.
It’s knowing where I was and knowing where I am today. It’s knowing all that has happened during that time. It’s living in today. Not yesterday, nor tomorrow, but today. It’s appreciating what I have, the things God didn’t take away from me during my many seasons of willful disobedience.
It’s waking up every morning of my life and experiencing God’s unmerited grace and mercy.
I deserve nothing. I did nothing to earn His favor. I could never do enough to repay God for the life I’ve been given. And therein is the living definition of grace; this gift that I was given all because God chose to give based on who He is and not who I am.
When people greet me today and ask me how I’m doing, they get confused at my reply. They think that I have a self-esteem problem; that I lack confidence, that I have no self-worth.
But I speak the truth, because every day I get to experience God’s grace, undeservedly.
My reply?
I’m doing better than I deserve.
Former Blackout Artist 