Basic Progress - Prologue

I did not tarry in observing that I needed to look better. I went down to Goodwill and purchased a suit and tie for five or six bucks. I developed the habit of brushing my teeth and wearing underwear. Of course, I wasn't prepared to give up the long hair and a macho beard, but I took regular baths. I'm living proof that if you take a bath every day for three of four months you'll get real buffed up!

Early on, I remember a blissful period of time. It is amazing what avoiding destructive behavior will do! In spite of me, everything was beginning to rock along and I found a girlfriend,.. a goddess, a higher poweress! I also took a part time job cooking at a half way house. The most precarious times for a new man is his first paycheck and his first date. Both of those scenarios invite trouble for the weak and immature. I survived by the hair on my chinny chin chin.

For this reason, among many, it was necessary to develop relationships with people who could relate to my state of mind. I needed someone I could talk to and someone who I trusted enough to call my attention to what is important. Spiritual people can be found in many places. I found them in Alcoholics Anonymous. It is my experience that those to whom we build this special relationship, with few exceptions, need to be of the same sex. Problems will arise with boundaries and affection. Those who think differently are usually shielding a poor attitude towards their same-sex fellows. Regardless, we must always keep in mind that we are developing spiritual maturity.

Although having a mentor, confidant, counselor or sponsor does lend itself to the teacher/student model, it does not allow one human to dictate decisions and control lifestyles to another. This new way of living is a life of personal responsibility. We are all striving to develop a closer relationship with God. We must do this with an attitude of compassion, love, and patience, although principled boldness, firm instruction and divinely empowered confrontation or even intervention may be the fitting need of the moment.

One night, one of my advisors came to me and he leered at me. He is short and talks with a lisp,

"After the 8:00 meeting, why don't you meet me over at the coffee shop? We'll have a cup of coffee. I really want to talk to you."

I met with him. He politely began his sermon, "Jay, You really look good! With the exception of your hair, you really look great! You are really playing the part!"

I was radiant. He continued,

"I really want you to know something, uh,..."

He stuttered,

"This is an inside job. The outsides do not mean anything. You've got to work it from the heart. I can't impress this on you enough, uh,... You,... You've really got to work at this! You're full of fears, and,... uh,... you've probably, got a lot of resentments. If you expect to progress, you have to go through with the process."

How dare he insinuate that I wasn't different! You could tell by looking at me I hadn't missed many meals!

"I have no fears, no resentments. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine."

We stood up to leave. He put his arm around me and grinned his toothless grin, "Jay, I hope you can make it long enough to understand that the insides have to be completely overhauled."

People can look at the same thing, tell completely different stories, and still be right. Nevertheless, there are some realities in life that do not ask your opinion.

We went to another meeting.

Vanity can sure jumble wise advice. The next morning, a Sunday, I remembered our conversation. What I remembered was that I needed a hair cut! Made sense to me, I was even grateful for the constructive criticism! I headed for the closest beauty salon. They could make me beautiful! It was closed. I became intimately aware of the location of every barber shop in town. Because of the blue laws in Texas, they were all closed.

Convinced that I could not wait, I went to my Dad's bathroom closet, pulled out his sheep shears (barber clippers,) and... reasonable people would probably start on the side and say, "No, too short." I started right in the middle of my forehead. For the next few weeks, I went about the business of living --bald as a baby's butt!

Some things are just obvious. I recall a desire to get healthy. I had played racquetball intermittently throughout my life and I decided to join the YMCA. I was on the constant look out for racquet ball partners. Needless to say, I had a deep desire to win. We are not talking about reasonable competition. To lose was a personal affront. I had to win.

I went to K-mart and bought a racquet. It had an plastic orange handle. During a game, I lost my temper and threw the racquet across court. I hit the front wall so hard, it cracked the racquet above the handle. I stomped down to K-Mart and told them that I had rolled over and the thing cracked on me. They replaced it without fuss.

About two months later the same thing happened. I lost a hotly contested point, hit my racquet against the wall and the blasted thing cracked again. I promptly marched down to K-Mart and demanded a new one. They filled out the paper work and as the lady handed me the new racquet she mused,

"You know, we haven't had much trouble with this product at all, but this is the second one in two months!"

I've had many significant events and/or moments that have taught me pertinent lessons. I believe that God can speak through many venues. It had been roughly nine months since I stepped off of the airplane in Dallas. I was walking by a park going to another AA meeting. It was fall. My pace was swift, but comfortable. As I swung my arms, I felt a leaf attach itself to my hand. I stopped in my tracks.

I looked at the leaf. It was oak. It's veins and color were so pretty. I cried. I leaned against a tree. I sat down, hugging my knees and holding my autumn leaf. I sobbed. It was the first time in over a dozen years that I had stopped to look at a leaf -- or anything else.

He had told me that it was an inside job.

At six months sober, a very dramatic event came to pass. I went down to College Station to make amends to with a former boss there, a girl friend had started school at Texas A&M and, by the way, I had to appear in court concerning my drivers license. I could kill several stones. This was a great opportunity to demonstrate my newfound maturity.

I walked in to my old job and my boss said, "Hey, how are you doing?"

I had walked out on the job four years earlier,

"I wondered what happened to you but I'm really busy and I got to go. See Ya!"

The judge suspended my license for six months. That night I talked to the flame and she didn't want to play doctor or anything. Frustrated, I paid for a motel room.

I drove around town. It was devastating. This panic drove me to spiritual activity that sealed in my personal renewal and spiritual formation. I have come to believe that crisis is the primary motivator for spiritual activity. I have since found that when I take the initiative to get closer to God, crises are often averted. We can learn the hard way, or we can take the easier softer methods: prayer, meditation, study, conversation, worship, etc...

"They" had changed all the liquor store signs to "Jay!" The neon arrows directed me inside. The automobile drove me to a coffee shop where I had to stay past 2 AM - last call for alcohol.

I have come to believe that there is something spiritual about a six month call to arms for the person who has dedicated his life to the honest pursuit of holy things. I have observed that many go through a depression around 6 months. Maybe this mystical grace period expires and God expects us to start taking responsibility. From experience, it is most reassuring for those in recovery to do a major life confession between six and nine months. It may have something to do with the grace of God or it may just have something to do with us getting restless. Maybe the devil notices that we are overcoming addiction!?

I told my entire story, the bad and the worst, on February 2nd of 1989. I mean I confessed as honestly as I could, the truth about me. I talked with this gentlemen for four to five hours. I spilled my guts. I didn't tell him everything, I just told him everything that I could remember. We talked and talked and talked and we prayed about it. Genuine confession is as therapeutic an activity as forgiveness. It dazzles at how close they are related. They both arise out of self examination.

A rose colored bubble lifted me up.

For about six weeks, I was walking tall. I could look the world in the eye. It is a feeling that I have yet to experience again, probably because it was the first time that I had ever belonged. I wasn't the only one with those thoughts and history!

Finally, I was human.

My first job since the Tropicana in Las Vegas was at a halfway house in Tyler. I worked twenty hours a week for five dollars an hour. Later, I went to work tending bar at a Mexican restaurant. The day that I had been sober for eighteen months, I was working the bar, For some reason, I had poured me a slice in a margarita glass. A waitress had picked up a half finished margarita and inadvertently, placed it on the bar next to my beverage. I whirled around to take sip. I had been in a good place. I always prayed before my shift. I honestly did not know what was in the glass nor did I suspect what it was. The tequila had me identified. Was that my fault? My memory certainly knew.

Later, the manager of that same store told me that he wanted to make a manager out of me. He said that it would go into effect the next day! I knew that my skills and potential would turn this restaurant into a thriving money making machine. I spent that night designing order forms and management policies.

The next morning, the sign on the front door read, "Closed For Business." I called the boss. He said that after we had talked the owner had come in to inform him that this location was not profitable and that he could not justify keeping it open! I tried to convince him that I had the solution. Not drinking had very little effect on my self-delusion. There was plenty of work to do on my insides!

For me, the rose colored bubble was a great ride, but the fall sure is a rough landing. I had to surrender to God, but I also needed to put in place certain activities and exercise that would help me stay in God's hands. Here is an example.

It had not been long since I was fluctuating illegally between a high rolling criminal and a lowly pitiful bum. I knew that when I had money, I had friends. When broke, they were gone. From personal experience, I knew that money was of no use in developing close friends. I had often fed my pride by giving some pocket change to another down and outer. I wouldn't so much as reach down to the ground to pick up a coin! My attitude toward money had to change.

I decided that if I found any money -even pennies, I would pick it up. It is amazing how many pennies I found. I rarely saw any silver, I guess those are for the needy. I kneeled and picked up the penny and put it in my pocket, and I tried to look grateful. It was a beginning.

One of the most difficult habits that I had to cultivate was prayer. Of all the changes that were necessary to change my life, prayer was the most important. My image of God was extremely vague. It didn't matter to me what God was, I wanted to access His power. Although, that is a selfish motive, I was willing. My problem was that I had the hardest time remembering to pray.

I can recall much advise about talking to God. One man told me to put my shoes under my bed. When I arose in the morning, while I was down there getting my shoes,... Another told me to tie a string to the light switch. Some were in the habit of writing notes on their bathroom mirror. None of it helped. It would be mid-afternoon, and I would remember that I had not prayed. This actually turned out to be a blessing. I found out that if I was having a bad day, I could always start over by praying!

One anonymous day, as I was reaching down for a penny, it dawned on me that it was a good time to pray,

"God, help me!"

Since that moment, I have probably prayed over thousands of pennies. Many times, I found pennies in the most unusual places. I have now placed pennies on my car floorboard, my drive way, my garage, I've even have one in my shower! Somebody more mature may choose quarters, but this one habit probably saved my life!

I don't want to insult anyone, but it's not the pennies, it is the prayer. A little bit goes a long way: God has probably spent fifty bucks reminding me of the direction He intends for me.

The truth is that the fullest human experience is to live within the realm of God's world. God does no that happens, but he is completely interested and ready to be completely involved, should we decide to cooperate. Heck, God has done much without my consent. And that because he infinitely cares. He cares so much he is willing to let pain and suffering happen as an alternative to living according to his boundaries. He loved me enough to let me choose his way- or not. Even at the kindergarten level of spiritual growth, I was beginning to realize and experience the great reality of being human.

Finally, I was human.