what I said:
I am so thankful you’re here to celebrate this milestone with me. Some of you may be confused why we’re celebrating, I’m sorry I haven’t let you in to my story before.
I want to let you in tonight, so I hope you’ll give me just a few minutes of your attention.
For several years, in the quiet of the nights, there was a calling on my heart, and I heard it, and ignored it, for a long time.
I want to tell you about that calling, and share with you the joy of obedience. This is a story about truth telling and becoming aligned in my desires and actions.
But first, I want to read you some excerpts from the poem Little Gidding, by TS Eliot. The poet our Eliot got his name from.
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
This story is an end, and a beginning for me. Today is actually exactly one year sober for me. Dec 17th 2021 I put down my glass of wine and decided I was never going to pick it back up again.
You might not ever have ever recognized me as a problem drinker, but I was definitely the boozy friend. I didn’t hide my love of wine and didn’t have or see a problem with my relationship with it.
Until I did. And once I saw it, I could not unsee it.
My drinking began with friends at 20. No biggie, and nothing wrong there. I had some fun and reckless times, thankfully not full of too much regret. somewhere along the way though, my drinking changed. It changed and became dysfunctional, and a habit.
I became a promise breaker, not to others, but myself. I found I’d set moderate goals, like two glasses of wine at dinner with friends, but four hours later, I’d had double what I planned. And this didn’t occur just once. I made rules for myself around alcohol and broke them constantly. It happened enough times that I really struggled with how little I could trust myself in this area.
Stephen Covey has said “… private victories precede public victories, making and keeping promises to ourselves precedes making and keeping promises to others.”
I desire to be a reliable and trustworthy woman and knew I needed to be accountable, reliable, and trustworthy, for myself.
I don’t want to get stuck here on details of my drinking, it’s not that I’m opposed to discussing them, but I did spend a lot of time comparing my journey to others and I used that as reasoning to stay where I was for longer than I should have.
Just know it was dysfunctional, in a way that made me uncomfortable at times, and feeling like I was in hell at others.
You wouldn’t look at my life at a year sober and see a big difference outwardly, but I am changed. In the last year I have received a deep, sound peace. A peace I never had when I was wanting one thing and living another. I feel sparkly and alive, I am aligned and at peace.
The man who gets credit for shedding light on my misalignment is Jordan Peterson.
If you aren’t familiar with him, I recommend his book 12 Rules For Life.
Rule #8 is Tell the truth, or at least don’t lie.
That one has stuck with me since the first time I heard it, driving through the mountains of Colorado by myself in 2018. In my minds eye, I can see where I was when he said it, and the thought that came to mind for me was: I’m living a lie.
March 10th, 2021 I wrote in my journal: Hardest thing you can ever do is tell the truth. But truth is the language of heaven. And by truth we shall be set free. I did a hard thing today and I’m better for it. One good decision, one right, one hard decision at a time. It’s how beautiful lives worth living are created.
It took me three years to get the truth from inside of me, to the outside of me.
Jordan writes it like that, tell the truth or at least don’t lie, because maybe you don’t know or understand really what the whole truth is, but man, you better not be living out a lie. Don’t have a divided mind, unstable in all your ways.
“If you act out a lie, you weaken your character. If you have a weak character, then adversity will mow you down when it appears, as it will inevitably. You will hide, but there will be no place left to hide.”
I’m not in the habit of lying to others, but I had a creeping and dark notion I wasn’t living in the light and in the truth.
The woman I saw myself as, and the future I pictured for myself, didn’t align with my wine habit.
In the quiet hours of the nights, the Holy Spirit’s whisper to “follow me” repeated. Over, and over, for years.
But I buried it. Ignored it.
I had a lot of thoughts like:
I’m not THAT person, Lord. I am not an alcoholic. Why me?
This is unfair. No!
And… what will people think?
And… why me??
And… how will I ring in the new year?
And… why me??
And… what about dinner parties?
And… why me??
I held on so tightly, white knuckling my right to make this decision for myself.
Because I know alcohol isn’t a sin. I know Jesus enjoyed wine.
But I knew I wasn’t living in obedience. My future was a fantasy and my vision of myself a delusion. I wanted to be the person I could be without alcohol, but with alcohol.
If you’re confused, just know I obviously was too.
I was boozing to feel hazy, romantic, full of inspiration and happiness. I drank to feel sparkly and alive, I drank because I felt like it made sounds a bit sweeter, colors a bit brighter, food tastier, conversation more interesting.
I had about 7 years of being boozy before I decided on a sober life, but in that near decade, I really let myself forget how incredible life is when you just commit to being entirely present for it.
I’m thankful to report it’s being fully present that makes life more sparkly, savory, brighter, and beautiful, not booze. I was just too distracted all the time, and too busy at war with myself to be present.
If for some reason you are still waiting to hear about a big moment, a thunderous Voice of God, or a terrible disaster, like waking up in Mexico with a stranger, you’re going to be disappointed. I don’t have DUIs or lost jobs or any big interesting stories I’m keeping secret from you.
There wasn’t THE moment for me, much like my salvation story, there were a lot of quiet moments, alone, me and God, where He called me by name and called me to walk in obedience.
That obedience was so hard. I fought Him. I’m thankful he kept coming back to battle me, I’m thankful I didn’t go numb to the calling before He won.
I have looked into my future and thought about the kind of mom I want to be. Not just the right now mom of a baby and toddlers, but the mom of little elementary school boys, and high school boys, a mom of adult children and I know: nothing is more important to me than living with integrity and doing the right thing, even when it is hard. Especially when it’s hard. So my children know they can.
I want my children to know they can do hard things. I want them know, hell, their mama sure did. She fought hard, went to war with God, with herself, and in the end, surrendered. And found that in surrender was actually the victory.
I am so proud to be the person that I am today. I used to live in shame. I used to shrink into despair at my own double mindedness. Not any more.
I am so thankful that I get to pass down this legacy of obedience. My family’s history of addiction will not be passed down to my children through me.
And I am thankful that the boys have an example of a father who can enjoy a glass of whiskey wisely and a pipe on the porch, because if that’s who they end up being, I want them to be able to enjoy that with their dad.
But if, like me, they struggle to find balance, if any of my children have trouble enjoying just one drink, I want to be their example. You can live a vibrant life, without alcohol.
And I share all of this because I want the people I love to start listening, closely, if they have a little voice.
If you have a tug at your conscience, or a calling in the wee hours of the night, whether or not that voice is talking about addiction, I want you to listen. Don’t bury it. Don’t go numb to the voice. You will find victory in surrender. That is the complex and beautiful truth I am living and had to share.
Tonight has been dubbed the Light Party because I want to start celebrating annually, deciding to live in the light. Not just my story. I want this to be the Light party so every year, people I love are given the opportunity to share, if they want to, the stories they have of living in the Light, whatever that means to them. I want to raise our kids in a community of people who don’t shrink back in shame over past decisions but rise up and proclaim the Glory of God and our shared victories and stories of obedience.
Thank you for coming tonight.
