"If you woke up this morning, then you have another chance."
My grandmother used to say that all the time. She never explained what the second chance was for or why. In hindsight I saw that it was a blanket statement that covered anything. Get personal with it and think of it like this: "God woke me up this morning. He's given me another chance to do what He's asked of me" or "God allowed me to wake up this morning so I can try and mend my broken relationship with xxxx.) I like to look at it like this: "Why did God allow me to get out of bed this morning? Why has He gifted me another day on earth? What is my deliberate mission that He wants me to do today? What is the thing that He's keeping me alive to do?"
I'd like to get personal and intimate for just a minute. I've been blessed beyond belief with chance after chance, not only with sobriety, but life in general. Relationships that were lost because of my selfish addictions are being restored. My relationship with God is being restored. Since I began my walk with Christ, He's had me preaching from the pulpit, crying at the alter and listening from the pews. He's had me involved in things that I never would have done on my own. I've worn many titles and been called lots of things. Things like dopehead, drunk, racist, scumbag, piece of shxt, klansman, felon, sexist, violent, hate monger, no good, skinhead etc. Titles you don't want to put on a resume. I embrace the fact that I have one true title now: "A Child of the King."
I have this cool little box in my office. It's got some sentimental things in it. It has a few tie tacks I was given for production and safety awards, challenge coins from both the military and companies I've worked with offshore, old hunting licenses and federal and state duck stamps. There's patches, a small pocket knife that my uncle carried while he was beating the crap out of the Nazis at Monte Cassino, and some of my father's Air Force and Masonic stuff. There are a few more things in there. Those are the ones I'd to share.
Each one of those coin like pieces of metal are called sobriety chips. They are Alcoholic Anonymous awards given for different lengths of clean time. Each one represents a second chance that God gave me to stay clean. If you look closely, you'll see several shiny silver ones. Those are 24 hour chips. You're given that if you've been clean for one day and night. In my opinion, it's the most important chip to receive. If you look close enough you'll see that I have more of those than any other. Back then I was very stubborn about recovery, and in some ways I still am.
I have gotten clean and relapsed so many times that it's hard to count. But after each one, my heart was screaming " I DON'T LIKE THIS AND I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE." God would hear the screams and step in to intervene. As long as I had God filling the void in my heart, I was successful. But my disease (who I like to refer to as Satan) would whisper "I'm proud of you. Look how far you have come. Look how good you feel now. Look at all the great things you are doing. Look at everyone telling you what a good job you've done. Everyone has put you on this pedestal because you deserve to be there. Look at all the people you're helping. You accomplished this all by yourself without the help of anyone. And all this time you thought you needed God!"
Cunning, baffling and powerful. That's what the disease of addiction is. I don't know of any other ailment man can have that constantly tries to convince you that you aren't sick. The apostle Paul talked of a thorn in his flesh. He said it was a messenger from Satan that was sent to buffet (strike repeatedly) him. Theologians have argued that passage up and down as to exactly what that thorn was. I can only talk with certainty about my own thorn. Addiction. My addictions remind me that the enemy is right around the corner, waiting and watching. For every millisecond that I don't fall for his trap, God's glory shines through.
When God commissioned me to start doing recovery work in McDowell County, I was pretty sure he had picked the wrong dude. I was by far the LEAST qualified person to do it. How was I to help others when I constantly have World War three going on between my ears? Why didn't He get someone who knew what they were doing? Did He forget about my track record? What in the world is He thinking? And then God reminded me of Moses.
When God told Moses to get his kinfolks out of Egypt..... here came the excuses. "I'm not good enough, I don't have all the answers, folks won't believe me, I suck at public speaking, I'm really not qualified etc." When Moses finally obeyed, we all know how that turned out. One of the most amazing supernatural events that God has ever orchestrated was put into motion by Moses' staff.
I'm not perfect. I don't have all the answers. I get mad and cuss. I've relapsed before. A bunch of times. I have a daughter in Mississippi that hasn't spoken to me in eight or nine years because of decisions I made while under the influence. I looted a lot of stuff before, during, and after Hurricane Katrina. I've chewed tobacco for almost 30 years and I'm still not responsible enough to have a spit cup in the house. Everyday I feel like I fail God, my wife and my boys. I don't listen to much gospel or contemporary Christian music. I don’t belong to any particular church. I've had a porn addiction that God allowed me to overcome. Gambling too. And womanizing. I listen to metal-core and industrial heavy metal music inappropriately loud for someone my age. I don't care for Donald Trump or country music. Because of the life I used to live, I always have a pistol within arms reach. I've been baptized like 5 or 6 times by 5 or 6 different denominations (that’s not a good thing.) Shannon and I shacked up before we got married. I’ve been in a gang. Steve Hill laid hands on me at the Brownsville Revival Reunion in Mobile and I heard the audible voice of God. I've been diagnosed with PTSD, tardive dyskinesia, Lyme Disease and depression. Because of all that I take 14 pills a day. Because of the PTSD, I can't sleep without medication. I'm a college graduate (somehow.) I have shot and been shot at. I consider myself a Calvinist (not the man bun craft beer and Starbucks kind of Calvinist.) Shannon isn't my first wife. I spent two and a half years in prison because I got caught breaking the law. I was in rehab when my daughter was born. I was born a fifth generation Mississippi Klansman. I'm adopted. I have some evil looking tattoos that cover up more evil looking tattoos. Both my biological parents were 15 when I was born. I've shot down a military drone with a machine gun and got in a lot of trouble. I've hurt so many people in my life that sometimes I'm overwhelmed with grief. I left my father in his hospital room and let him die alone. I've done CPR on three people and they all died. I've watched a man blow his head off with a shotgun and I did absolutely nothing to stop him.
So if you hear any rumors about me they are probably true. If you hear anything that isn't on this list, let me know and I will add it for future reference.
Do you understand now why I think I’m not qualified? By worldly standards I’m the last man for the job. So to say our God is a God of second chances is an understatement. God knows what He’s doing. He’s been in this line of work a long time. I wholly trust him with my life and the Recovery in Mcdowell program. Sometimes I feel very selfish whenever I am working with anyone that is struggling. Helping them helps me stay clean that day. While I've been typing this, using hasn't crossed my mind. My heart breaks for anyone who is hurting and struggling. When I say "I know how you feel", I really KNOW HOW YOU FEEL.
When we wake up in the morning, then God has given us another chance. It never ceases to amaze me at the powerful things that He can do with a broken soul. Mine or anyone else.
Ya'll holler if you need me.
