Hello, I am Addiction

Maybe it would make a difference if addiction would just come right up to our face and introduce itself. Maybe if it should come right up and dope slap us in the head we would realize the imminent danger. Probably not though. Addiction is insidious. I had to look that word up when I first heard it. The definition is;  • treacherous; crafty , proceeding in a gradual, subtle way, but with harmful effects. 

The brain of an addict has no logic when it comes to getting high. Our brain says things like, you can do it just this once!; everyone else is carefree and having fun, why not you?; this time you will stop after two beers.; this time you will not chase the high, one hit will be enough to take the edge off; you have a high tolerance, you need more than the normal person. 

And, sadly, we end up thinking; how did I let this happen again?; it was not supposed to be this way.; it is always going to be like this, I don’t know why I even try.; I may as well have the ‘hair of the dog that bit me’.; I am always going to be a worthless loser.

We always have to keep our thinking in check. Always. We don’t ever get a vacation from doing an inventory of our thoughts. One slogan that I learned in AA has been a healthy reminder. It says, Stinkin thinkin leads to drinkin. Yeah, I like to misspell those words. It gets my attention every time. This slogan reminds me to take an inventory of myself daily. Once my spiritual and emotional conditions begin to decline, my sobriety is in danger. If I catch it early, it is easier to come to the God of my understanding and confess my ill thoughts and ask His help in getting back on track. Unfortunately, the longer stinkin thinkin goes unchecked the more difficult it is to recognize and it doesn’t take much more before I could be off and running in the wrong direction.

I went through a season after my husband died where I found my thoughts wishing I could enjoy a nice glass of red wine. Many of the people who were important in my life were able to drink in relative safety and enjoy themselves. I would see the pictures they posted on FaceBook about the fun they were having and the lovely get-togethers they were having that included wine or beer. They were thoughtful enough not to invite me because they knew I was clean and sober. While I appreciated their consideration, it also made me feel left out and a little sad that I could not unwind with a glass of wine too. I let that thinking go on for more than a little while. Mix those kind of thoughts with the fact that I had been grieving the loss of my soul-mate and that I have not been able to bring myself back to AA meetings and I had a lethal combo going on. Self pity began to creep in along with a desire to isolate. I reached out in a couple of ways to a select few but, honestly I did not have the energy to chase anyone down for help. Tears flowed for days. I tried to go to meetings and I saw my Eddie everywhere. It was destroying me! I would be sobbing all the way home. I finally decided to stop torturing myself and withdrew all together from meetings. To this day, I have not been back. But, I remember what I was when I came into AA and I remember the principles that saved my life thirty seven years ago.

Sometimes, it is God and God alone who can save. That has been the case for me. I have not shut Him out or withdrawn from Him. And he shined a spotlight on my thinking. He brought me back to sanity and He gave me the strength to walk away (in love) from the people who could not comprehend the danger I was in. I literally heard the Voice of my God say to me, You are not safe here anymore. You must walk away NOW. I will not keep you safe if you do not heed my warning. Those are probably not the exact words but that was the message that He spoke loud and clear into my innermost being. I was ruined. It was heartbreak upon heartbreak. As I write this, I can still feel the ache in my heart. And, somewhere under all the commotion in my soul, I heard the voice of my first AA sponsor say to me, “Constant vigilance is the price we pay for our sobriety.” My God gave me the strength to walk away. He gives me the strength every day to make the right decision regarding my sobriety. Without sobriety I have nothing.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman, I will not let your death be in vain. I admire the fact that you had 23 years of a clean and sober life. You have reminded me today how fragile and how precious is the gift of sobriety that we have been given. It is the unmerited favor of God that gives us this gift. Addiction is an insidious thief. Your fate could very easily have been mine, and it could yet be. Somehow, I think you would like us all to be mindful of that today. Your spirit will be missed.

I call BS.

deep thoughts

 

There are a couple of phrases that are always said with the best of intention in the worst of situations. One of these is, “Forgive and forget“. For years I have allowed myself to feel guilty because I have not forgotten. I think it is time to call BS on this one. I do not think it is possible nor practical to forget. I have forgiven some pretty life changing and heinous events Even when the offender has not asked forgiveness. But I do not forget. For example; At the age of fifteen, my virginity was robbed from me in a brutal act of kidnap and rape. After years of alcoholism and drug addiction and some deep counseling by a Pastor and his wife, I have been able to forgive. Truly forgive, as Christ has forgiven me.
Like most fifteen year old children, I thought I was invincible and I left myself open to many dangers. I was rebellious and arrogant and that permitted me to be with the wrong people, in the wrong place at the wrong time. What I did not know is there is always some sicko lurking and waiting to take advantage of just such an attitude. I have forgiven me for putting myself in that danger. I have forgiven the sick man who robbed me. I have forgiven God for not bursting through the night sky and ripping this pervert off of me. Done and done.
I am sixty one years old and I haven’t had those nightmares or re-lived that event in a very long time. My heart is no longer bound in anger, fear and hatred. But I do not forget.

There is another phrase that irks me of late. “Time heals all wounds.”

I must call BS on this as well. I do not see myself as wounded and bleeding any more although my heart is under going surgery right now. My heart has never been so broken as when Eddie the Baker left me here alone. I miss him every single day and feel somehow incomplete without his words of wisdom in my ears and his daily pledge of love to me. This does not feel like a wound. It feels more like an extraction. A portion of my soul has been torn off and the heart ache is quite literally an ache in my heart. It has been more than two and a half years and I still cry every day. Time is not healing my heart and soul. But God…  I know that God is mending this. Every wound my heart has ever experienced has been healed by God and this is no exception.He has promised never to leave me. He has promised to bind up the broken hearted. He cares for the widows and the orphans. It is God, not time, who heals all wounds.

I have recited both of these phrases to hurting people in the past. That will not happen again. And I will politely nod to those who say these things to me, choosing to see their heart and not just listening to the words. And maybe, on the inside, I will find myself calling “BS.”

Serving in Spain through the arts

The message we are carrying to the women of Betel International is this: Live the Lord’s Prayer. Forgive those who have hurt you and walk into your new life without yesterday’s baggage.

It sounds like a simple message but, I promise you, more people than we think get stuck in sorrow and unforgiving. I know this from experience.

The women here have been through a lot. They have been on both sides of the fence; needing to forgive and needing to be forgiven. It is often so overwhelming to be in this position that people can not find the beginning of the road to healing and freedom.

We are using the story of Ruth and Naomi from the Old Testament, an old widow and her daughter in law who is also a widow, to put into pictures how to move forward. This is the basis for the conference that we built to bring to the women. We call it Victorious Warriors because it takes a warrior to battle through the sorrow, shame, anger, and humiliation that has been heaped upon us over the years. We are survivors, and that is a good thing but a survivor can still remain a victim. It takes more to be victorious. It is a battle of the mind to stop believing the lies of an enemy who tells us we are worthless and doomed to fail at every endeavor. It takes a warrior’s courage to find the strength to try; to move forward; to believe that God has a better plan and He is not mad at us. It takes tremendous strength to take that first step toward HOPE.

When the women first enter Betel Ministries, they are broken and defeated. It sounds like a bad place to be but, in truth, it is the best place to surrender from. Sometimes the warrior must surrender in order to win the battle. We surrender the lies, the escape paths through alcohol and drugs and we surrender our wills. It is from that place of brokenness that we can begin again. We lay down the running and squarely face our failures and stop making excuses for them. We stop lying to people. We lay down the lies we believed for so long and accept the fact that God loves us and no one is worthless. And we lay down our self will and begin to learn how to embrace God’s will for our lives. It is good, His will for us. We have made a mess of things and He is waiting to restore us to sanity and a good life.

I read a lot of Facebook posts and some of things that crack me up end with the words, “said no one ever”. I have one that fits here. I want my old life back of lying, stealing, disrespecting myself, being drunk enough to pee my pants and high enough to puke on the police officer’s shoes… said NO ONE EVER.

Betel ministries all over the world provide refuge and a place to begin again. The people of Betel are courageous warriors. I am grateful for an opportunity to serve them.

 

 

 

Are you Eddie the Baker’s widow?

I met Ed in AA. I watched him for a year before we ever spoke and exchanged phone numbers. Our first date was an AA function. It was a Valentines  dance, Feb. 13, 1978. Together, we worked our program of 12 steps, encouraged each other to do above and beyond what looked possible and we grew together as useful citizens in our community. Our last outing together was at an AA meeting where my Love got terribly sick and ended up taking an ambulance ride to the hospital where he died, 36 hours later. It was so hard to walk away from his body that night in the hospital. So much of that time is a blur to me. A horrible blur.

It has taken me more than eight months to finally walk into an AA meeting again. I have been to three, so far, and each one has been horrid. The first one was a Big Book meeting where two leaders read from a chapter of the Big Book of AA and then comment on each paragraph. It is my least favorite kind of meeting. I left early when one person raised their hand to speak and proceeded to inappropriately carry on about his former sex life during his active alcoholism. People don’t know what to do when that happens because we don’t want to stifle anyone but, for the love of sanity, really???

Two days later, I attended my home group meeting that Ed and I are members of. It was January 5, the 35 year anniversary of my sobriety. I did not want to acknowledge it, I did not want to get out of the bed at all. I could easily have pulled the covers over my head and cried all day long. But, I made myself get up and go to my group. I can’t tell you what was said. I just kept hearing Ed say, “We do it to be a power of example. New comers need to know that they can stay sober for long term and get through anything that comes their way.”  I got there on time and I stayed for the whole meeting. At the end of the meeting I went forward and received a chip (a token poker chip) to show that I was sober for 35 years. I enjoyed a few hugs and sweet words from folks after the meeting. One lady asked if I was Eddie the Baker’s widow. I think I said yes. It was surreal.

The next day, I went to a discussion meeting. The topic was how to deal with tragedy and death without taking a drink. Toward the end of the meeting, I did manage to raise my hand to indicate that I would like to share something, but I was too late. Lots of people had lots to say on the subject. I prayed that the young lady who introduced the topic was helped by some of the discussion. During the meeting, two of Ed’s friends told me how much they miss Ed and what a beautiful memorial service we had for him. That blessed me. As I tried to sneak out at the end of the meeting, I was detained by a young lady who is one of  Ed’s good friends. He called her “Kiddo”. As we talked, I noticed a familiar plaque on the wall behind her. It says,”Success cannot be measured by how high we climb the mountain, but by the obstacles we overcome on the journey.” Eddie the Baker. My husband had it made and donated to the fellowship hall before he died. Ed overcame a lot of obstacles on his journey. He was a power of example to many and many people still quote him at meetings all over Wilmington.

Betel of Spain

A month has gone by since I went to Spain. It has taken me all this time to process what an amazing ministry Betel International  is. Several folks supported this mission trip and I want you to know that God used your gifts in a unique way. He is so creative in reaching the hearts of the ones He loves.

I cannot explain the ministry of Betel any better than this brief video documentary about Betel International. In 1985, eleven years before opening in Britain, Betel (Spanish for Bethel) received its first destitute men and women off the streets of Madrid. Since that time more than 100,000 homeless, substance abusers and socially disadvantaged have been helped throughout Spain, Portugal, Italy, Germany, France, Central Asia, Australia, Ukraine, Mexico, USA, Russia, Finland, Bulgaria, N Africa, Czech Republic, Ireland, Mongolia, Argentina, Brazil and the UK. Betel residences host more than 2,000 recovering men and women in 80 cities in 21 nations

Peggy Laney is the missionary director at Myrtle Grove Pres. She has been to Betel in Madrid before and God placed a burden on her heart for the women there. They have survived  a completely destructive lifestyle and are being redeemed from alcoholism, drug addictions, prostitution and lives of crime. Through it all, they have lost any sense of who they really are and who a loving God has created them to be. Peggy became aware that in their journey of restoration, many have lost (or never had) a balanced knowledge of their femininity. She began to put together a conference for the ladies of Betel ministry. It was to include teaching them on some of the women in the bible who were used by God to bring salvation to mankind. God is able to use all kinds of unsavory back grounds for His glory. I, for one, am very grateful for this truth. Peggy and Cynthia Mattis did some outstanding teachings on Bathsheba, Tamar, Rahab and Jael. I had the privilege of sharing my testimony of how God has redeemed my life from alcoholism and heroin addiction after these powerful teachings.

Part of the conference was to include a time of “make-overs” for any of the women who wanted one. This was to be a time of pampering and nurturing. Peggy wanted a couple of hairstylists, a make-up person and some one to do manicures and pedicures. This is how I got invited in the first place. Peggy needed a hair stylist and Mary Tepper, the “mother” of the ministry, gave her my name. That is another story that only God knows all the details of.

I have posted some pictures in other posts since I have been back. I do not want to repeat the bits and pieces I have already shared in those posts. I only wish I could help you to know how much your prayers and donations of make-up and finances for me to purchase hair products once I got to Spain have meant to these precious ladies. Thank you for your generosity and for allowing me to experience giving back in a whole new way for me.

This is a sample of the make overs we got to do. This is Ani. She has been in Betel for 3 1/2 years. For all of that time, the girls at the house have been doing her hair. It was an honor to pamper her a bit.

Transformations

It was my intention this morning to read and to post about the upcoming trip to Spain. During the reading portion of my morning, the dog distracted me with barking from my back garden.  While I was still in my PJs and  without the assistance of any foundational under pinnings, I stepped out back and got further distracted by the overgrown weediness of my, so called, serenity garden.

With all of my ADD self, I began pulling random weeds until Bella started to bark at a van that pulled into my drive way. In a tizzy, I dove back into the house and  into the bedroom for some decent, mid-morning apparel. Mission accomplished, I opened the front door to find my friend Carolyn standing there with a shy grin.

“I came to weed your garden.”

I posted on Facebook yesterday that my serenity garden had turned into an anxiety garden because I had neglected it for the past 5 months. As I looked at it I was just overwhelmed and did not know where to start to get it in order again.

Carolyn is the kind of friend who is like a family member. She has spent many hours in my  home and knows how much enjoyment Ed and I always derived from our little haven in the back yard. It bothered her to know that it was causing me to feel anything but peaceful. It bothered her so much that she just showed up at my house with a bucket for weeds and a pair of garden gloves.

What an angel.

In two hours my garden was transformed again into a place of peace and delight.

Not only did we weed and lop off drooping branches, but we hung out together. As we worked together to transform the neglected, weedy mess into something pretty, my thoughts drifted to the ladies of Spain. (who knows that I enjoy a good analogy?) These ladies have been through some very tough times. As I am learning more about Betel Ministries, I am made aware that several of the people in the mission are HIV positive. Some have managed to get out of human trafficking situations. There is nothing pretty or peaceful in all of this. These are very weedy and tangled lives. It is easy to see how they could be overwhelmed at the idea of transformation. Where on earth do you begin when coming out of heroin addiction, alcohol abuse, the sex slave trade and who knows what else?

All I know is God is allowing us the opportunity to touch these broken lives in a way that can bring visible beauty to them. As we apply make up and give new hair styles and speak words of LIFE to them, we are coming along side their Creator and the One Who knows what their destiny will be. He has brought this team together for a time such as this. I do not have to know anything else. I will just try my best to serve and leave the results to God.

 

Where is the passion?

Anyone who ever spoke to Ed for more than 10 minutes knows that my man loved to travel.  His job on board oil tankers that traveled the world was a natural fit for him. We were still fairly newly weds when he came home and told me about an opportunity he had to take this job. The excitement in his words and the look in his eye was enough for me to know that this was a dream come true for him. Of course, he had to try it. And try it he did, for about ten years. He has been to Russia, Portugal, Spain, Africa, South America, Greece, Israel, Italy, Alaska and Germany to name a few countries. Traveling was a passion for him.

A long time ago, my passion used to be seeing broken people made whole again. Specifically, seeing abused and messed up women find their divine purpose in this life. Everyone has a divine purpose you know. Some of us just get dealt a lousy hand and some others deal themselves a bad hand. Regardless of how or why, this world is full of people who have a destiny that they are missing by a million miles.

I really used to care about this but over the past couple of years I have been more focused on the health issues my husband faced. When he broke his hip and went through two surgeries that landed him him in ICU each time, I stayed home with him until my health insurance was going to be cancelled. Then, he insisted that I go back to work in order to retain it. I worked off and on to keep enough in my account so I wouldn’t lose my insurance. Left to my own devices, I would have stayed with him and let go of my health insurance but he would not hear of it.

Somewhere in this contentious series of events, I lost my conscious contact with my Creator. I prayed , I talked to God but I could not hear Him. Some days, I didn’t even know how to pray so I didn’t. And through it all, I lost my passion.

I have not expressed these thoughts to anyone but, since I don’t have my husband anymore it is hard to care about very much. Why am I still here?  I have fulfilled my wedding vows and, truth be known, I am not really crazy about going on without Eddie. Now, I am not inclined to end my life or anything like that. I mean it when I say that everyone has a divine purpose. Mine has not been fulfilled yet. That is why, a couple of months ago, I began to ask God to revive a passion in me. Remind me what is important and help me to want again to make a difference in this world. Lead me to someone who needs what I can give.

I believe God hears my prayers and He has sent an answer. No one knows what I have been praying. Out of the blue, I have been invited to go to Madrid to take part in an outreach ministry to women who are recovering their lives from devastation. Alcoholism, drug addiction, prostitution, domestic abuse and more. Broken women whom God is reaching and drawing to Himself. I am going to help do some makeovers on women who have lost their identity and their sense of femininity. There is more to tell, but I am well over the recommended 500 words that keep a post interesting.

What are you passionate about? What are you doing with your passion?