Surrender to gain Victory

Surrender is not a word we associate with victory.  How many victors ever won a battle by surrendering?  In fact we almost always associate surrender with defeat or giving up control of something we fought to keep.  Surrender in battle...lose the battle.  Surrender in a game...lose the game.  Any way we slice it, we equate surrender with loss.  With surrender often comes heavy emotions, feelings of failure, loss and sense of purpose.  When I think of one who surrenders, I picture slumped shoulders, on their knees, tears in their eyes and a look of loss.  Like all the joy of life has been sucked out of them.

I spent many years playing at life, never thinking my actions had consequences.  Well, logically I knew there could be consequences but I thought I was smart enough and had enough control to get around any potential consequences should I ever have to face them.  Only when I found myself on my knees, joy and sense of purpose long gone, did I realize, I can't win.  I am defeated.  My opponent too strong.  To continue the battle thinking I could win meant death.

At 43, I surrendered.  I gave my addiction to God.  I had become a demoralized, defeated man.  I admitted that my life was unmanageable and realized that only a power greater than me could defeat a disease that was stronger than me.  I had tried many times, always with the same result...try again tomorrow.  I had to start over.  I had to surrender myself and my addiction to God.

In addiction, just like spirituality, surrender is essential.  When I decided that I could not do this on my own, that I needed intervention from my Higher Power, only then could I be free of the burden of fighting this battle by myself.  Surrender gave me a renewed sense of purpose.  Surrender gave me a renewed feeling of joy.  Surrender gave me a new life.

I found victory in surrender, but this does not mean my battle is over.  What my surrender does mean is that I now face this battle with a power that is far greater than my disease. This battle no longer belongs to me, it belongs to God.

Gratefulness

Some days life lessons slap you in the face.  Today I got slapped.  Early this morning I stopped in a convenience store for a cup of coffee.  When I got to the check out, I noticed a familiar face in line ahead of me.  An old friend from my drinking days.  I hadn't seen him in a few years because in sobriety it sometimes becomes necessary to change our circle of friends.

He looked nervous and a bit agitated.  By his dress I could tell he had just gotten out of bed, threw on a robe and drove to the store to purchase a 6 pack of beer.  He had the shakes and still reeked of the alcohol he drank the night before.  I lowered my eyes hoping to get out of there without him noticing I was behind him.  No such luck.  As he went to pay, he noticed me.  I smiled and asked him how he was doing.  Looking embarrassed he said "oh, about the same".

Something in his look reminded me of where I had come from.  He was me not too many years ago. Suddenly I felt ashamed that I had hoped he wouldn't notice me.  A voice inside was telling me to reach out.  I hugged him and told him if he wanted a better way to live, I would always be there for him.  We both paid and went to our cars and parted ways.  I don't know if or when I will see him again.

As I drove away I remembered all those mornings that I would wake up groggy and hungover, already starting to plot a way to get through the day to my next drink.  A sudden feeling of gratefulness overcame me and I teared up.

I am grateful to be alive.  I am grateful to be sober.  I am grateful for my children.  I am grateful someone reached out to me.  I am grateful for grace.  I am grateful for second, third and fourth chances.

May I always have the strength to reach out when I see someone in need and may I never forget how far I have come.

Living with regret

I was thinking last night about regret and how spending too much time living in regret can be a weighty burden.  I was thinking about regret in context with my relationship with my kids.  There are many times I was physically at events my kids were involved in, but I wasn't mentally or emotionally there.  Ballgames, plays, recitals...there, but not there.

I often determined how long I would stay or even go at all, based on whether or not I could take a stash of booze or drink enough to make it through.  I was the dad that always had a styrofoam cup handy, convinced I was the only one who knew.  The thing is, I was fooling very few people.  Most everyone knew I was drinking.

Now that I am sober, I cringe thinking about the things I did just so I could drink.  Regrets, I have many, but if I focus on those I will get stuck there.  There is a saying in recovery that I am learning to live by.  "It is okay to look back, just don't stare".  By looking back I can remember how bad things got but if I stare those things might pull me back in.

Regret can be a sobriety killer.  Regret can trick you into believing you are not good enough, that you are only as good as your last failure.  How can you grow if you spend time beating yourself up for the should of's and I wish I had's that we all have?  I can't change the past and I can't control the future, but I can be present and accounted for today.  Today I choose sobriety and clarity so that I can be the kind of father my kids need and want me to be.

These days I go to everything I can that my kids are involved with.  I do it with a sense of peace that my kids know I am not only there, I am THERE.