teacher Marion

When I was in 5th grade at Leck Kill Elementary School, my teacher was Marion, my grandmother’s sister-in-law. Much to my amazement during one of her classes, Marion declared in response to a classmate’s answer to a question, “I’m from Missouri, I don’t believe that. Prove it!”

I was astonished because, as far as I could determine at that young age, all my relatives were native born Pennsylvanians, all of German heritage. Troubled for the rest of the day I made Marion the primary topic of discussion at the supper table with my family.

“Why no, Marion is from Trevorton (a nearby town), ” responded my mother and grandmother, “why would she say that?”

When confronted by her lie, Marion laughed while explaining the meaning of Missouri, the ‘show me state.’ Lesson to be learned was this: don’t believe anything alleged, whispered, declared as truth or seen without ample proof. And even then, ask questions.

Applying this to my recovery, to my commitment to sober living and to the entirety of my faith walk, I would like to believe that when I walked into the rooms of my first AA meeting, listened to the people tell their stories, and wished for the sobriety which they had, I thought, “Yes, this is for me, this is what I want, this is something I can do.”

But that would be a lie. I was a scared drunk simply wanting relief from a life which had put me on the doorstep of suicide. I did not know what I wanted. I was 34 years old feeling like an old man with nothing to live for. And I certainly did not believe that I could do what these sober alcoholics had done…..5, 10, 15 years of sobriety and they had survived without the crutch of alcohol which had carried me for so many years.

“Lord, I can’t do this,” I cried out when I left the meeting and returned home.

“Yes, you can, and here is how you will do it. Surrender your life to me and turn it over to my care.”

“But, Lord, you don’t know. The things I have done, the people I have hurt, the heartaches I have caused those who love me. You just don’t know.”

“I do know. And even so, I never stopped loving you. You are one of my Father’s children. Walk with me. ‘One day at a time’, ‘easy does it’, ‘let go and let God’…..it’s all there in the meeting rooms.”

Yes, those damned placards on the walls attempting to encourage me. Many nights, I sat quietly listening to others share their stories staring at the sayings on the walls while continuing to think, “Lord, I can’t do this.”

Those nights turned into years until finally through faith in a Higher Power, I realized that “Lord, I can’t” turned into “Lord, by your grace, I will.”

In a nutshell that’s my story and it can be yours also. There are no secrets to sobriety. Walk by faith as long as necessary until you can say, “Yes Lord, I will.”

And you are asking, “Larry, what does teacher Marion have to do with this story?”

Show me; prove it; I don’t believe it. Some of us are sicker than others and some of us need to live by faith until we can see clearly the promises of sobriety.

2 Corinthians 5:7 “We live by faith not by sight.”

Cunning, baffling, powerful

Time to revisit a life changing story because it is especially relevant today in my sobriety journey. Well-meaning friends who don’t understand the significance of sober living or the insanity of alcoholism suggest, “Larry, you’ve been sober 41 plus years. Surely, you’re no longer alcoholic. A beer or a glass of wine won’t hurt.”

Perhaps not.

But why take a chance? My friends who do drink alcohol, when they drink to excess, remind me that the same insanity and heartbreak is still out there waiting for me. And I always drank to excess. Social drinkers were out of my league, I liked to get down there in the gutter with the drunks and derelicts.  My drinking buddies never understood, my family and lovers never understood; but I, Larry Paul Brown, could not sit down and have just one beer or one drink.  For me, one was too many and ten were never enough.

Alcoholism has not changed; but I have changed, and I know today that it is a disease of the body, mind and spirit. Only a Power greater than I can relieve me of my alcoholism and I will not be cured of this disease until I die. What happens after death is the mystery which God, as I understand God, will unfold.

“Cunning, baffling, powerful” is my disease. 

This is my story.

If you are one who remembers the music, sit back and reminisce. If you don’t remember it, that’s OK also. My point in composing this page is to remind myself and other recovering addicts that not always in our addictions was life unbearable. There were good times interspersed with the horrible episodes of drinking and drugging. We had great music and most often loyal friends. Many of us were functional alcoholics with relationships and families. Until recently I painted those years as absolutely dark and void of any joy. I refused to entertain the thought that remembering those times could be therapeutic and possibly uplifting. Faith in an unfailing God has strengthened and encouraged me to revisit those days. Of course, today it is not the same. I don’t fill my head with a steady diet of rock and my predominant interest now is contemporary Christian music.

I celebrate a sober life, clean and serene, remembering some of the great artists of the time who suffered through their demons and did not make it to a time of recovery. Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison are just a few who died. They made great music.

The music of our generation defined who we were. The 1960’s rocked. We rebelled, we protested, we despised the hypocrisy of our government, our parents and our society. We embraced the Rolling Stones, the Animals, Janis Joplin and Bob Dylan sweeping into the 1970’s a newfound freedom in drugs, sex, rock and roll. The Vietnam war and Woodstock showed the world how polarized we had become. Most of us survived and matured to become upstanding citizens and family people just like the generation before us. Some of us stayed in the 1960’s drinking and drugging ourselves into oblivion. Many died.

The music is epic. Only recently have I been able to listen and reminisce comfortably. It no longer takes me to a dark time. It’s merely part of my journey.

‘Nam was a huge part of the late 1960’s for young American men. The government conscription which was in effect struck many of us as discriminatory and unfair as evidenced by the large numbers of draftees who were poor, unable to obtain deferments, and African-American. It seemed that a disproportionate number of men from those groups were drafted into the Army and trained for Vietnam.

It has been argued that indeed a large number of those sent to Vietnam were from these groups; however, not because of discrimination in the system but because they lacked the skills and education for employment in the States. Vietnam looked like opportunity to improve their lives.

Whatever the circumstances were, many young men succumbed to a habit of alcohol and drugs in the jungles to combat loneliness and fear. Those of us who managed to serve in other foreign countries and the States were not immune from the effects of war. My service in the hospital corps put me in daily contact with amputees returning for rehabilitation and with emotionally debilitated soldiers and marines. There were also numerous drug and alcohol abuse casualties.

I also relied on alcohol to combat my fears and insecurities. My disease was rampant and easy to conceal because nearly everyone in the Navy drank, most of us to excess. That was simply the Navy way of life. However, the difference between my fellow corpsmen and I was that I was much more comfortable socializing with my patients than with my peers. I and the men and women to whom I ministered belonged to the same brotherhood of brokenness.  Music was a huge part of our lives.

1968 to 1970 were very tumultuous years.  My insanity and my drinking had resulted in an AWOL, a captain’s mast, a demotion and threats of time in the brig for behavior unbecoming a military man.  Yes, yes, yes, I am guilty; just put me away to wallow in my miserable existence.  But a compassionate LTJG law officer, apparently recognizing that the problem was not a discipline problem but rather a drunk out of control, went to bat for me and subsequently the Navy gave me an honorable medical discharge.

Free at last!  No more military regimen, no more uniforms, no more Navy Chiefs telling me what to do and when to do it.  Free at last.  My demons pursued wherever I went, no matter how far I tried to run or where I tried to hide.  They were beside me, in front of me, behind me and within me.  The insanity and the drinking became an acceptable part of my everyday life.  Everybody lived this way, didn’t they?  This was a new age, a new creed, a new way of living.  Family ties were broken, lovers were trashed, old traditions were discarded.  The almighty god of alcohol filled the God-hole meant for honesty, truth, virtue, fidelity, spirit and integrity.  And yes, my demons and I were free at last to live in an alcoholic chasm void of love or compassion or anything remotely human.

And so it continued for 10 years.

Then in January of 1981 God was looking at me, a sorry example of his creation, and decided to put it on the road to sobriety.  At the time I was unsure of his decision but did not have many options.  Honestly, I didn’t know it was God’s decision because I didn’t know God. Oh, I had some carryover from childhood of the vindictive, judgmental entity my family’s religion force-fed me.  But I decided at a young age that no god was better than their god.

What I did know was that my life had dead-ended and I needed to find a change or kill myself.  It was that simple.  Of course, in my estimation, being the alcoholic that I am, my excessive drinking was not the problem .  Other people, the job, my boss, money problems, my lover, my upbringing, etc. were the reasons I hated myself so much.  I could never come up with an honest appraisal of me.

I decided that I needed counseling to learn how to deal with the issues and people that were creating my unhappiness.  On the way to my first session with a psychologist at the hospital’s mental health center I stopped at a favorite watering hole for some fortification.  I sincerely believed my drinking habits were normal and ridiculed those who did not drink.

After just one minute of baring my soul to the psychologist he simply asked, “How much do you drink?”

“Oh, maybe a few at night,” I lied.

The incredulous look from that man behind his desk was worth more than a thousand words of professional counseling.  We both knew at that precise moment, “Bingo.”

That was my day of reckoning.  God had decided to take me out of my miserable existence and in the beat of a heart I became willing.  It all played out so clearly in that moment of acceptance.  It was a light being turned on in a darkened room.  I didn’t at that time know who or what it was that had opened my eyes.  God’s revealing of himself then was just a twinkling and has been an ongoing experience, which continues to this day.

I did know that my drinking habit had destroyed much of my life since that first beer at age 17.  From day one of my career in alcoholism I was addicted to a potion that made me fearless, charismatic and good-looking.  I was so cool sitting up there at the bar with a cigarette dangling from one hand and a beer or a scotch in the other.  I could do anything and be anybody I wanted.  I was intelligent and funny.

On that day in January of 1981 God crushed me. I said to the psychologist, “Yeah, let’s try it your way because my way just doesn’t work anymore.”

I was 34 years old and I had not an inkling of the road ahead.  If I had known what was in store for me, I probably would have said, “Know what? Maybe we can try this another time.”

I spent 2 weeks in detox, another 3 months in a counseling program and introduced myself to Alcoholics Anonymous.  Life since than has been one helluva ride.  Calmness and serenity interspersed with absolute, sober terror and suicidal moments convinced me that my alcoholism was indeed just a symptom of deep underlying emotional issues just as my AA friends always said.

My road to recovery has been unconventional and probably not completely AA approved. However, I find myself with substantial continuous sobriety and have been prodded to share my experience, strength and hope with others who may gain an insight into their own struggles.

Who prods me to do this? God, of course. Who else?

It’s what I have to do

Second only to politicians, we alcoholics are probably the most selfish people I have ever known. Not that I know many politicians (thankfully), but I have met and loved a number of alcoholics in my lifetime.

They, and I include myself, seem to be lacking the gene that turns off the “I” button and concentrates more on the “you” default. Was it environment, upbringing, mental deficiency or truly a physical and emotional condition that laid waste to so many of our years while maturing?

Please note I said maturing and did not say while growing up because many of us just never grew up. We stayed in that age group when we first began our careers in alcoholism, that age group when our peers were educating themselves, raising families, focusing on relationships, starting careers…….yeah, getting responsible for themselves. Some of us missed out on those milestones in life and, unfortunately, never caught up to the rest of our siblings and friends.

So, is it too late now? Oh, hell no. We just have to try harder, put in more effort, appreciate sober-living more than most because sobriety is not a lifestyle for wimps. It takes great courage to turn it over to a Higher Power every day thus giving up control of our lives. It takes great courage to surrender it all to an entity which most of us cannot or will not define in the terms of this world.

What are your stumbling blocks? What were mine? We discovered them in our 4th Step inventory and, shared them with another person and with God as we understood God. And we did not stop there. Sober time convinced us that more inventories, more thoroughly exhaustive were necessary, more honest maybe.

It didn’t all happen in one day, it was not a ‘once and done’ effort. Meeting after meeting, night after night with a sponsor, sharing when sharing was difficult and uncomfortable, thinking of others when that was still unnatural – it all finally led to a moment of epiphany, that breakthrough when we could say with heartfelt thanks, “there but for the grace of God go I.”

No, it was not an easy path. But, we had no choice, did we? The alternatives were jail, a mental institution or death. It’s been years since Day One for me, but I must reaffirm my decision to follow sober-living everyday. I have no choice, do you?

If you’re sober today, give yourself and your HigherPower a hand.

stretch-h-h-h-h-h

We have learned that our successful recovery is directly linked to our willingness, have we not? Willingness to give and receive love, willingness to sacrifice our wants to the needs of others, willingness to spend time with another recovering man/woman, willingness to forgo comfort in the face of another’s discomfort.

“Dear Lord, I am willing, but how far must I stretch?”

“Son, do you remember my body stretched upon my cross? I gave everything for you.”

“Depart from me ye cursed………for I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.”

They asked when they had done this.

Jesus replied, “Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.” MATTHEW 25:45

Uncle Willard

A front-page story in my local newspaper today detailed the DUI/manslaughter charges against a 38-year-old man in a nearby community. His life undoubtedly changed forever when he opted to get behind the wheel of his pickup truck and drive drunk. The driver of the car he hit head-on is dead, several others in another involved vehicle are injured.

1966-1968 were my hell-raising years. A college drop-out pumping gas at a local Gulf station, I was entirely rudderless. My day consisted of working my 3-12 shift, getting together with buddies after work, buying a couple six packs at a bar which accepted my bogus ID (I was 18 and the legal age in Pennsylvania was 21) and heading out to a few favorite spots in the woods where we weren’t bothered by the law. We all thought we were so cool, and we thought we were having fun. Didn’t matter that I lived about 25 miles from my party spots, and I had to drive frantically to get home before daylight when Grandpa got up to start the farm chores. Mom had already left for work and several times we passed on the winding country road leading to my home. Several ‘alcohol – related’ mishaps did not deter me from my nightly adventures.

Nobody could talk any sense to me, “Aww hell”, I would lament, “just out with buddies having a few beers.”

In later years with a bit of sobriety behind me, I was told that angels were riding with me on those tire-screeching, engine-roaring trips back to the house. “No,” I replied, “it was God Himself riding with me, my angels were too scared.”

So, you are asking what this has to do with my Uncle Willard. First let me say that the front-page story in the Sunbury Daily Item back in 1966-68 could have been a story with my name and my picture detailing the underaged drinking and DUI/manslaughter charges against a good boy just having a few beers with his buddies,

Uncle Willard was one of 10 children, my father Paul being the oldest. Due to family dysfunction, I did not meet Willard until one summer afternoon as I was finishing up on chores behind the barn. I was probably 18 years old. A car drove by, the driver tooted its horn and then turned around and returned to park along the highway. The man who emerged was unknown to me.

He civilly introduced himself as “Willard, your dad’s brother. I’m your uncle.” (No, at age 17-18 I did not know any of my father’s family). “I heard you wrecked your car last week, are you OK? “

He then proceeded into an ass-chewing that would have made any Army drill sergeant or Navy petty officer proud. Attaboy, Willard, you tell it how it is. I was speechless, but I knew dang well that I deserved every word and more.

He had his say, shook my hand, patted me on the back saying, “Straighten up, son, before you kill someone.”

That’s my Uncle Willard story – the only time we ever spoke.

stinking thinking

“We would rather be ruined than changed, We would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the moment and let our illusions die.” W.H. Auden (1907-1973)

Sound familiar? We alcoholics are specialists in ‘stinking thinking’, are we not? How often in my career of alcoholism did I sit on that bar stool with my buddies believing (not just thinking) that I could drink like they drank and drive home safely, maintain a home life with a spouse happy to see me pull in the driveway, wake up the next morning refreshed and ready for work, and remembering everything I did during the drinking session and owing nobody (especially my spouse) an apology? How often did I believe that I would not be ashamed the next morning of inappropriate behavior while drinking on the barstool with my buddies?

Of course the answer was always. I sincerely believed I could drink like they drank and the outcome would be different than last night or the many nights before. I believed that I could control my addiction. It was stinking thinking that fed my illusions for nearly 20 years.

Not until, “we admitted that we were powerless over alcohol and could not manage our own lives,” did the light break through. My way of thinking was flawed, it stank and it wanted to kill me. I then invited the True Manager into my life, called it Higher Power until I could fathom the depth of a “spiritual experience” as described in the AA Big Book.

If you are sober today, rejoice in the miracle of saving grace.

It’s my story

January, 1981, my story was changed. On that cold night in the social hall of a local church, I wasn’t looking for sobriety, I wasn’t searching for a savior to guide my life forever thereafter, I wasn’t willing to take the steps necessary to become a new man. I just wanted to stop hurting, stop the pain that defined my life. What those men and women sitting at the table of my first AA meeting shared was a familiar story because I knew it well. After 17 years living the insanity of alcoholism, I was ready for a new chapter in my story, but, “Good Lord,” I cried. ‘What a tall order, I can’t do it. Living without alcohol forever. I can’t.”

Then that voice which has become so very familiar answered, “Yes, together, we can. It’s not forever, it’s one day at a time, let go and let me.”

Forty years ago my story was changed. Not by my will power nor luck, rather by loving, sober people who cared and a God who could and would make a new man out of me. That’s my story. Chris, Jack, Jo, Cindy, Tom, Danny, Father Bond are just a few of the characters from my recovery…..Jesus is the author.

“If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.” JOHN 8:36

“I love to tell the story! ‘Twill be my theme in glory to tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.” Catherine Hankey

who’s your Daddy?

Who or what is the god of our lives? What do we hold closest to our hearts? Where do we turn in troubling times of the soul?

Of course the answers matter. Troubling times for humanity are not just a 21st century happening. History tells us that, as a species, we have encountered hardships, heartbreak, devastation, genocide, world war, political unrest and plague throughout each generation of mankind. So, let’s not think that we are unfairly oppressed by the inhumanity of the world or the wrath of a vengeful God.

I often refer to my grandpappy, a wise and thoughtful man, in my assessment of life. One of the most profound and profane summaries of his world was shared in these words: “Shit happens.”

My faith, still immature, says that I have no control over most of the events in my life. A simple prayer learned in the rooms of AA says:

“God grant me the serenity to accept that which I cannot change; courage to change that which I should, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

That prayer poses questions to be answered: 1) what can I not change? Most obviously, I cannot change other people. I cannot change my past. 2) What should I change? That is easy….I made a mess of my life in drunkenness. I need to change myself and thus my future.

In a nutshell, that philosophy guides us to a successful recovery from addiction and a serene path through life. The ‘Serenity Prayer’ is a life-changer for millions of alcoholics. Most of our challenges (call them failures, if you must) were the result of our attempts to play God. When we recognized that the higher power directing and controlling our lives was a substance such as alcohol/drugs or a behavioral addiction, we then searched for a replacement, an entity worthy to be our Higher Power.

“Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” Step 2, Alcoholics Anonymous

Knowing a higher power was nothing new to us – it had been alcohol and drugs. Finding a sane alternative was the challenge we faced.

From Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions we read:

“Therefore, Step Two is the rallying point for all of us. Whether agnostic, atheist, or former believer, we can stand together on this Step. True humility and an open mind can lead us to faith, and every A.A. meeting is an assurance that God will restore us to sanity if we rightly relate ourselves to Him.”

Will I relate myself “rightly”, who’s my daddy going to be? Where is my heart’s treasure? With whom do I share the depths of my heart, the concerns and fears, the joy and love?

Like grandpappy always said, life happens regardless of what we think it should be. But, with a commitment to sober-living, life can be a stroll through serenity, or under the ravages of addiction, a trip through hell. It’s our choice.

the promises of AA

OK. It is official. Immanuel (God with us) has arrived into a world filled with heartache, hatred, poverty, fear and, oh yes-don’t forget the pandemic. Welcome, Jesus. Sorry, I could not clean up our mess for you.

Lord, sometimes it is just too much to process. That’s why we have you. Our Father gave you to us to set the standard, to show us how we are supposed to live in a loving humanity of brothers and sisters. Guide us in your ways. AMEN

We are blessed every day with breath, with heartbeat, with functioning bodies. We awaken each morning to the glorious beauty of Your creation. For those of us saved from the ravages of alcoholism and associated addictions, we remember what we did last night, where we were, whom we slept with and where we parked our truck when we came home. We awaken unashamed of last night’s activity and sure that our coming day will be filled with continuing peace and understanding. And we look forward to another day basking in the light of Jesus.

We anticipate fulfilment of the promises we have read in our recovery literature. The truth of sobriety is synonymous with the commitment to sober-living. It’s not only about “not drinking and using”. It’s about changing who we are, how we think, what we do and how we relate to the world. No longer are we individually the center of our universes. No longer do we fear social situations or financial difficulties. Sober-living leads us to an understanding which was impossible for us as drunks and addicts.

“If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to realize a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret our past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic adversity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.” ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, pgs 83-84

Are these extravagant promises? Absolutely not! Millions of recovering alcoholics living successfully and productively will testify to the results. Those results will always materialize if we work for them.

Living sober is not about the ‘right’ God or the ‘right’ theology. I choose the God of my youth, my religious tradition, to guide me through a world that assaults and profanes my innate sense of moral compass. Jesus is the North Star of that compass. Celebrating the birth renews and revitalizes a life-long faith tradition. But, each of us must find the “God of our understanding.”

“Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” STEP 3, ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN

A well-remembered adage flowing freely around the tables of Alcoholics Anonymous was this:

“You have got to give it away to keep it.”

Sobriety, the clean and serene, the return of sanity, the restoration of family and community was a gift of a Higher Power whom we trusted and revered. It was freely given through the grace of a loving, magnanimous God. Many of us, needing definition to this God, rely on the Christian concept of Jesus, the Christ. I have to give Him away to keep Him.

Celebrating the birth is part of this Jesus story that has given meaning to life as well as understanding to death. A boyhood verse learned in Sunday School said, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.”

Alcoholism kidnapped my relationship with Jesus and set me in the darkness of the deep valleys. My story is found in the New Testament book of Luke, chapter 15, the parable of the prodigal son. Through Jesus, my Father and I have claimed victory over alcoholism and spiritual death.

Yes, yes, yes, I will go tell it on the mountain, in the valley, on the streets and wherever anyone will listen. Tonight I celebrate the birth of the Son who saved me from insanity or jail or death. Tonight is all about God’s gift to humanity. This little light of mine – I’m gonna let it shine.