It was September 12, 2025. My mom had celebrated her 90th birthday the day before. We had traveled to my sister’s home for the occasion.
I woke up that morning thinking it was 6:30am. I hadn’t slept well and was glad to see that it was light out so I could go downstairs. It was actually 10:30am. I’d missed the opportunity to drive my brother to the airport. I was confused and mad. Why didn’t anyone wake me? Hadn’t I said the night before that I wanted to take him? My sister told me that they had let me sleep in because they thought I needed it. To be fair, I rarely get a good night’s sleep so I know it made sense, but I kept pressing.
My sister made an innocent comment about the beer I had before going to bed and how drinking at night can affect sleep patterns. She had no flipping idea. She’d only seen me drink one and that was about six less than usual. She struck a nerve. I escalated the conversation to the point that I said ridiculous things and stormed out of her house. My intention was to drive to a park, find a spot, and go to the back of my car where I had two tall boys of Bud Light stashed for moments like this.
I pulled out of the driveway and began sobbing. For about an hour I couldn’t stop. I drove around without direction. I was also without my phone but I was too mad and embarrassed to turn back. Part of me knew I wasn’t crying because my sister and I got in a fight or I hadn’t been able to take my brother to the airport. I knew it was something bigger.
I felt this tug from God as I drove by this beautiful Catholic church. Two blocks down the road, I felt the tug again. I turned around and circled the property looking for a spot in front. I wanted as few people as possible to see me as I doubt I was wearing anything all that good. Had I even put on lipstick? I knew I was a hot mess so I figured I’d just sneak in the back. I found a parking spot but the doors were locked. “Gee, God, thanks a lot.” Well, at least for a moment there I’d considered doing something other than drinking.
Eventually I found the park. I stopped twice. Each time it didn’t feel safe to get out of my car to retrieve my beer. Climbing over the seats seemed a little over the top – even to me. I guess it was a good thing I had hidden the beer from my mom. Things might have gone differently that day if they were close by.
I was still sobbing. I decided to have another conversation with God. I think it went something like, “Okay Holy Spirit, I think there’s probably more than just remembering to set an alarm or not being a jerk to my sister that you want me to learn. Am I right? I just can’t quite figure it out, but I know there must be something.” I waited in silence.
The answer came moments later. I knew what I had to do. It’s as if I was propelled out of the park and down the road to find the first gas station. I pulled up to the pump, got out the beers, and threw them in the trash. The old me (well actually in all transparency I did think it at that moment) wondered if I was being quite irresponsible for throwing away two perfectly good cans of beer.
It was a moment of God allowing me to make the choice. I had made different ones so many times before. I had wanted that choice of
when I could drink, not
if
I could drink. Was I really comparing wasting two cans of beer to wasting away my life? When I finally accepted that I couldn’t decide on the “when” because “no” time was the right answer for me, I knew.
Then I said to myself, “Today God, I am ready today.”
What is the hardest part of your struggle with alcohol or drug addiction? If you have found sobriety, can you share what led you to this point? Please share your thoughts about this or anything else that resonates with you from the post at
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#acceptance #bargaining #courage #TrustInGod
