This was written March 26, 2000.I was going to rewrite it, it begs to be rewritten... but there is something sacred about this. I was asked by Laurie Taylor to give my testimony. She gave me 20 - 40 minutes with questions. I have never given this much of it in one sitting. It was given in an intimate setting, less than 20 people in a circle. When you do somthing like this... you have to just do it and let go. God gave me my testimony, I am sure He will use it.It probably isn't my business how he wants to use me.R.
I want to take you on a journey tonight. It is a painful journey, but one with a happy ending. It is my journey into alcoholism and my journey out. I hope to give insight into how a child /young adult becomes an alcoholic. And I want to leave you with hope, that there is a way out.
Alcoholism, the disease, starts with "breaking tolerance." Breaking tolerance is when your body no longer breaks down alcohol like it is broken down in a normal person, something has changed. That change is irreversible and destructive. Alcoholism is not only a physical disease although many organs can be effected especially the liver, stomach, and the heart. Alcoholism is a three fold disease, it is physical, emotional, and spiritual.
I didn't choose to become an alcoholic, but it was the result of my choices I had early in life. At the age of 15, I took my first drink. How does a young teen get alcohol? It isn't really very hard for the young and adventurous; parent's liquor cabinets, older friends, and siblings, fake I.D.'s, parties, unconcerned convenient store cashiers, and even stealing. What kind of kids start drinking and go on to become alcoholics? All kinds of kids, good kids, troubled kids, smart kids, talented kids, shy kids, fun loving kids. The sooner a young adult starts to drink, the more likely they will drink alcoholically. Drug abuse excellerates the process.
I came from a good Christian home, my parents were both believers. As a child I enjoyed the blessings of being in a loving Christian household, I had tasted God's goodness, but I was not born again.
At the age of 10, I made another choice that would most profoundly effect my life. I began to dabble in the occult. It started out some what innocently, playing with a Ojai board. It developed into a multitude of Biblically forbidden interests. I eventually became what you would call a New Ager. The secret teachings became an obsession to me. Occult means secret, that which is hidden. The result was dramatic and swift. I had turned my back on God and broken fellowship with him. I no longer sensed the blessing had received from being a child of believers. I was miserable, bitter, lonely, lost, and rebellious, I was looking for someone to blame. My relationship with my parents disintegrated. I began to suffer from insomnia. I was depressed and often violently angry. A door had shut and another had opened. It was pure evil. I had invited the devil in to my life where he began to build a stronghold. I developed psychic abilities or sensitivities. I was troubled by spirit entities. I didn't know what was going on and I couldn't see the connection between the choices I made and what was happening to me.
Every alcoholic has at one point in their life has turned their back on God. Many are exposed to evils, some by choice, some not of their choosing; the occult, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, sexual promiscuity, a bitter root. There is a spiritual stronghold, a closed door, and deep bitterness at the cord of every alcoholic.
Within a year of my first drink I believe I was drinking alcoholically. It was fast becoming a way of life. As with most teens I drank to get drunk, which I did at more regular intervals. It was more than a weekend thing, it was whenever I could. Soon I was smoking pot and experimenting with drugs. My only friends were the ones I partied with. In our minds it was just a party, just having fun.
Sooner than I wanted, the fun began to be replaced with the nightmarish. I was at odds even more so with my parents, my boy friends were less than desirable. Partying was no longer much fun. It began to be replaced by the desire to find that fun again, the original excitement getting drunk and high had offered. What happens is this; you drink for fun, then you drink to relive that fun, then you drink because it is a habit, then you don't know what to do without drinking, then you need to drink and may become physically addicted.
At 19 I ran away from home with my boyfriend. It was a spare of the moment thing and we ended up 10 days later with my boyfriend in jail for possession of drugs.
That was enough for me. I called my parents and said I was coming home. I wasn't sure what they would do with me when I arrived. I thought they would ask me to leave. I was sure they were quite weary of me. What greeted me when I came home was right out of the parable of the prodigal son. The look of joy on my fathers face was unmistakable. I had always doubted my father's love for me, but never again from that moment on did I question it.
All I wanted then was to be good, with all my heart. I just wasn't able to. I had gotten in too deeply to simply walk away. My sin had a terrible hold on me. I didn't want to do drugs, but I continued to drink. The only problem was that when I drank I wasn't able to say no to drugs. This was a very frightening thing to me.
I married Kevin. He was different than my other boy friends. He was kind and smart, and faithful, someone I respected. Kevin was an alcoholic too. I honestly wouldn't even date guys who didn't party. You see, they would have made me feel guilty. Kevin and I moved to Florida where he had a good job. We settled in and made friend with a group of fun loving drunks who had more money than they knew what to do with. It took us four years to get to the point where I constantly thought about leaving the marriage. We fought. I was viscous and he did the worst possible thing, ignored me. Judi, an old friend of mine came to visit. During her stay she cornered me in the bathroom. She made me promise to get help if I ever got to the point I couldn't stand it. She didn't want to see me let my marriage fall apart without us even trying. That was September.
On Christmas Eve we had worked half the day and went to office parties the rest of the day. I had been drinking. I came home took a nap and got up and started drinking again. Holidays were always an excuse to get drunk. Some of our friends came over and we did coke. I really didn't want to do the coke but was unable to say no. I loved the feeling, but cocaine's effect on me was ruthless, making me ill for several days. Later that evening after our friends had left. In a state where speaking was difficult. I began to think of my parents. I wanted so badly to talk to them, but I wasn't able. I then began to fear they would call and know I was totally loaded. A great sadness filled me. I sat in the hall way on the floor and cried. I told myself that this was just the way it was. I was like this and my parents weren't. I sensed a huge gulf between us that I could not bridge. I knew I couldn't change. But you know, I was believing a lie, a lie from the Father of Lies. God had a different idea about this. No, I could not walk away from this on my own. I was in desperate need of the God who heals.
By April I was ready for counseling. I had kept on hoping things would get better. I began to hate the drinking, Kevin's drinking not mine. He was the problem. I was sure. But you see alcohol is a solvent, it dissolves marriages, every relationship it touches, jobs, homes, and health, and most of all peace of mind. I had absolutely no peace. I was filled with bitterness. It was so bad when I got up in the morning I could feel it's heavy weight on my very being. I could hardly face the day. I wanted to hide. I hid in my drinking. I poured my self into meditation looking for relief, looking for peace, trying to be a good person. I poured myself another drink. It began to disturb me that meditation and occult techniques could not take this awfulness away. I began to doubt all the religion I had embraced. I went to a counselor my friend Susan was seeing. Her drug use and broken relationships had taken her there. I was tired of the life. I was ready for help. I drove home from the first session with the deep sinking realization that Kevin was an alcoholic, never seeing it in myself. I talked Kevin into going to the counselor with me. It was an ultimatum, go or I'm gone. He went, but later confessed he could have just as easily have said good-bye.
In the next months I began to try and take an honest look at my life. That was difficult because I was no longer the honest person my parents had raised. The more I learned about drinking the more I understood, "that I was powerless over alcohol and my life had become unmanageable." As pathetic as that sounds to be so low down, those words became life to me. I sensed a new hope, maybe I could change, millions of others had. If you are familiar with Alcoholic Anonymous you will recognize this first step. It follows with, "came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity." As evidence to the Holy Spirits preparing my heart., I made the God of the Bible, the LORD God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, my Higher Power. Still I denied Jesus was the Christ. Again, God had a different plan for me.
I took my last drink on May 18, 1982 on a cruise ship off the coast of Port Canaveral Florida. Kevin took his last drink two weeks later. On July 4th, Independence Day, I went to my first A.A, meeting. There I publicly confessed, with tears streaming down my face, "My Name is Ruth and I'm an alcoholic."
Later that summer, I took step three." I made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understood him." I still left Jesus out of it all. I had one last attempt to seek out answers from my old ways and the teachings I had embraced. I was so sincere. But in the end I had to admit that in my best effort to be good, to be religious, I was a total failure, the best I could do was to become an alcoholic. In A.A;. they told me I was spiritually sick.
As my life improved, I went through the roller coaster of the first several months of sobriety by hanging on to a hope and a new reliance on God. I was told if I wanted to stay sober I needed to pray every morning. I should pray ever minute, if I was tempted. I needed to ask God to keep me straight. If at night I hadn't taken a drink, I should humbly thank him for his help. This began in me the habit of prayer. My mother encouraged me," to pray continually," as the Bible said. (1 Thessalonians 5:17)
For three years I tried to blend what God was revealing to me with my New Age thinking. I read a lot of books that blended Christianity with New Age. There are hundreds of them, some even in Christian bookstores, so beware! I began to notice that each so called teacher was concerned enough about Christ to mention him in their teachings. They compared themselves to him., Usually trying to discredit him. I began to see that Jesus was a standard that all so called masters measured themselves against.
I was five months pregnant. My weariness for the path of knowledge I had chosen was great. There were so many voices within me, so many teachings. I began to desire the true teachings, I longed to find the true teacher. I promised myself if I could find this teacher, I would follow him no matter the cost. I began to have a great desire for the child within me to have the experience of growing up in a church family. I knew I needed to take him/ her to church. I didn't know which church. I had no idea how I was ever going to step foot into one anyway. The thought of my child never knowing that blessing that I had had as a child made me very sad. I didn't know why. I knew I couldn't provide that blessing.
One night after an A.A. meeting my friend Barbara asked me to go to church with her. I said yes, then realizing what I had done made some snide remark, " I hope your church isn't the kind to think they are the only way." Barbara was the only person in the world who could have asked me to church and I would have said yes.
At that time I was working in an art department of a large electronic corporation. It was a job I had greatly desired and had worked hard to get there. The only problem with this job were the people I worked with. They were really depressing to be around, the kind who talk about you when you leave the room. I asked Rudy, an older man who worked with me, how he could stand it. He told me to get a walkman and tune them out like he did. I couldn't afford a walkman so I got a radio with a head set. I could only pick up 3 stations; country, (no way), alternative rock, (I could only last about 2 hours with that), and a Christian radio station. I had a habit of listening to James Dobson's show, because he was a psychologist and psychology was O.K. with me. But if you listen to Focus on the Family you know Dr. Dobson slips in a Christian testimony or two between his helpful family shows. It was Good Friday and I tuned in to hear an interesting man named Tony Campolo. He started talking about how a church should really be, I though to myself," that is a church I could go to," so I listened on. He then told a story about a Good Friday service he had attended and preached at. The service started about 9:00 a.m. and each pastor took turns every hour until 3:00 p.m., the time tradition has it that Christ died on the cross. Tony Campolo said he got up to preach and when he sat down he was quite pleased with himself. That was until a Black pastor got up after him and blew everyone away. He sermon went something like this. "He was beaten scourged, spit upon, and mocked, that was Friday, but Sunday's coming. They hung him on a cross and gambled for his clothes, that was Friday, but Sunday's coming. Their master was dead and everything looked bleak, that was Friday, but Sunday's coming. Peter had denied him three times and he wept bitterly, that was Friday, but Sunday's coming." The pastor went on like that with the congregation shouting "That was Friday but Sunday's coming!"
Within that sermon I began to see a motif. I'm an artist and I often see the motifs in life, the repetition of a theme. This time I began to see a pattern in my life. I knew "Friday " intimately, when all seemed hopeless and there was only despair, when I had given up on myself and said, "this is just the way I am.". But God had a different plan. God's glorious motif was unmistakable imprinted on my life. It hit me, the realization that everything about Jesus was true. I could no longer deny he was the true teacher, the Son of God. To deny Christ would be the same as saying, "I wasn't an alcoholic and God didn't have anything to do with releasing me from my addiction." I knew God had everything to do with it, that the power that had raised Christ from the dead had delivered me from alcoholism. I later began to understand that God delights in taking the most messed up situation and turn it into something beautiful. It's his motif. If you've ever seem it happen in someone's life, you can be sure God's been there. Even when I had hated and denied his Son he revealed Christ to me and saved me. The scriptures say, "they hated him without cause." I was one of them and he had set me free. I knew then that I no longer had to fear death. When I died I knew Jesus would be
right there for me. I knew I was wrong and that I deserved to die, but now instead I had life, eternal life in Christ. I knew I had to follow Christ and totally turn from the New Age things I had been involved in. I wanted to learn about this Christ who died for me and I wanted to hear it from people who believed in him and to read about him in the Bible.
As all these thoughts ran through my mind I got up from my drafting table, knowing I was forever changed.
I later realize that Dr. Dobson's show ended at 3:00 p.m. and the scriptures say,
"When the sixth hour had come, darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" which is translated, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" And when some of the bystanders heard it, they began saying, "Behold, He is calling for Elijah." And someone ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a reed, and gave Him a drink, saying, "Let us see whether Elijah will come to take Him down." And Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed His last. And the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who was standing right in front of Him, saw the way He breathed His last, he said, "Truly this man was the Son of God!" Mark 15:33-39
My Bible commentary explained, the sixth hour was twelve noon, the ninth hour was 3 o'clock. It was 3:00 on Good Friday and I had just met Jesus, the veil lifted from my eyes, knowing the truth, that he was the son of God.
I used to think those were my own thoughts that day, but I don't anymore. You see this whole experience was like an explosion in my mind, as dramatic as that sounds. I had to ask why? Did he need to do that to get my attention? I believe the answer is yes. My mind was so full of false teachings and lies that God had to blow my mind, so to speak. He needed to clear away some of the clutter to shine a light into my heart. Then by his spirit, he told me these truths.
During the years I spent in the New Age, I was a diligent student, putting great effort into study That day I promised myself, that I could do no less in finding out about Jesus. And for years until I began to trust that I had a basic grasp on the scriptures I literally looked up everything someone said about the Bible. I couldn't read an article without looking up each reference. I never, never wanted to be deceived again. I prayed for the spirit of discernment, I felt I could never survive if I didn't have it. I believe God granted it to me that day I asked him. I was so grateful for what Christ had done for me, I still am. It humbles me to realize that "God demonstrated his own love for us in this:
"While we still sinners, Christ died for us... For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life"
Romans 5:8, 10
I so identified with this verse I thought for several years that this Bible verse was written just for me. It was my verse. The Lord let me think that for a while, then he showed me it was about all men. I was amazed that without Christ, we are all enemies of God.
After my conversion as I called it, the real healing in my life began. I would like to tell you everything fell into place. It didn't. I had walked into a wayward life style and even though I had turned around repenting. I had to walk out the other way. I had to walk out of this life style step by step, day by day. It was easier knowing Jesus walked beside me. I knew I was never alone.
What has happened since I was born again? Children have been born, my marriage has been renewed, friends and family members have come to know the Lord. We've seen God provide. He has been faithful in difficult situations, during the loss of a job, and many cross country moves. I've dealt with a chronic illness and have come to know the God who heals, not just our diseases, but our bitterness. I've learned to admit when I was wrong and ask for forgiveness, that is something I could never do when I drank. I've learned to confront others in love which has gone a long way in dealing with my intense anger. I've learned to trust God and walk with him. I've come to appreciate that God is sovereign. He is in control. I count on him when life seems out of control. I've learned the privilege of prayer and an assurance that God hears me.
One of the most difficult things I overcame recently was feeling of worthlessness. This is different from being unworthy, by God's standard we all are. If it weren't for his grace we would all die in our sins. This feeling of worthlessness was a result of my past. It had been recently intensified by the fact that I had been diagnosed with an unknown Auto-Immune Disease. Today the doctors believe I have a mild form of Lupus. This disease left me exhausted and unable to do the things I used to. I guess from the worlds point of view, I was rather worthless. I had struggled with suicidal feelings even after I became a Christian. Realizing that they were a sin, an ingratitude for the life God had given me, they began to subside. Even with these revelations worthlessness plagued me. Pastor Kim has spoken many times about being a new creation. I knew it was true, but it just wasn't real to me. I didn't really comprehend that in Christ I was a new creation, the old had gone, the new had come. ( 2 Corinthians 5:17) It was so evident in my changed life, but still I couldn't hold on to it. One day I called a close friend, Shannon Martin. Shannon sensing I was down asked me what was wrong. I poured out all my feelings of worthlessness to her and just sobbed. I had never told anyone. Shannon in her sweet way prayed over me, rebuking Satan and praying that the words, "Therefore, anyone who is in Christ, you are a new creation, the old has gone the new has come," would be real to me. That day it did become real to me. It wasn't the pastors sermons, a Biblical understanding of who I am in Christ, it didn't come from admitting it to a friend, nor being prayed over. What gave me that deep acceptance of who I am in Christ? It was the whole process. It was that God, himself had lead me to where I needed to go, to listen to who I needed to listen to. He had given me a friend I could be transparent with, who had a heart for prayer. This is how God works with me, as an individual, as a precious child.
I've by no means finished, I have not arrived, but I know one day I will be complete. " I know that when he appears, I will be like Him for I shall see Him as His." 1 John 3:2
The Lord is still working on me. He's teaching me when to be bold, when to keep silent, he's teaching me hospitality. I'm learning to listen to his voice and ACT upon it, so many things.
What I want to leave you with tonight is hope. I believe with my whole being, if God could save me, he can save anybody. If God desired to save me, he desires that no one should perish. Don't give up on yourself. Don't give up on your loved ones. You see God has a different plan. Commit to pray for the alcoholic in your life. Pray everyday. Pray as if your loved one's life depended on it. It does. I had a mother who prayed for me this way, with this kind of commitment. I believe I am standing here tonight, by God's grace and her answered prayer. Get Godly counsel. Surround yourself with other believers. Become accountable to another. Seek out others who have walked this way before you. Don't give up.
If you have a problem with alcohol. Get honest. Look at your life and be sorrowful. Get help, your problems won't get any better. The fate of alcoholic is this, eventually you will either go to jail, become insane, become sick, seriously hurt yourself or somebody else, or have an premature death. A high school friend of mine died last summer of cirrhosis of the liver, he was 40 years old. But you know God had a different plan. Grab on to it with all your might while you still can.
And to those in the church I say to you, in the recovering alcoholic you have a person who has been humbled and broken. You have someone who is perhaps depending on God for the first time. You will find someone searching for the truth. "I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest." ( John 4:35b) We need to be there for that person, to be a light in his darkness, and an answer to somebody's prayer.
