He could smell the sweet smell of what?

The other day, out of the blue, I looked up an old “friend”. It must be a phase I’m in these days…thinking back to my teen years…trying to pull first and last names out of my memories…wondering how their lives turned out. Over the years I have actually thought of him more than anyone because, well, we had something special, and also because our last conversation was about finding God. He was interested so I shared more, and then I moved away and got married, never to speak to him again. Well, not for 30 years anyway. It wasn’t hard to find him online. There was his full name, including his middle name which I recognized right off, and his address and phone number(!).

The next morning I tried the number and it rang and rang. I let it ring a long time, thinking maybe he was outside, or maybe I just wanted to hear his voice on the answering machine. No answer. Not even a machine. My spirits tried to take a dip, but I was determined to try again later, and to keep trying until I reached someone who could give me some information.

Later that day I had some time alone so I decided to try again. It was only a couple rings until I heard a man’s voice (vaguely familiar) say, “Hello?”. I asked if it was him and he said it was. Okay, how to begin…

I said something like, “You probably won’t believe this, but this is (so and so).” I gave him my maiden name. He asked me to hold on a second. There was a shuffling of the phone for five to ten seconds, and then he was back. I said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” He said he sure did, and that his heart was pounding. What was this? Why would his heart pound just from hearing my voice?

The reminiscing began then. He asked, “Do you remember the time we stood under the awning of that church while it was pouring down rain? I can still smell the sweet smell of the earth after the rain stopped.” I didn’t remember that one, but he said the memory I should be worried about was when we were at the construction site. The construction site? What constru…gasp! Was that him? I asked if there was a barricade in front of the car and he laughed and said that was the place. I had completely forgotten that one. How could I ever forget a police officer knocking on the window! It was raining that time also.

I asked him if he remembered what ever happened to cause us to break up. We had been kind of off and on toward the end and apparently I told him I didn’t want to have a “platonic” relationship with him. What I think I meant was that I cared too much for him to just be friends. What he thought I meant was that I didn’t want to have an intimate relationship with him. He thought I was dumping him. All because he didn’t know that meaning of a word! Folks, let’s keep a dictionary handy. It could change the course of your life! The poor guy was broken-hearted, thinking I had ended it for good, and he never tried again.

He admitted that he had been madly in love with me and that those were the best days of his life. We shared some details of what has happened since then, but I quickly moved to the real reason for my call. I just had to find out what he had done with Jesus. It was my hope that he had grabbed onto the gospel and had been living for the Lord all these years. As it turns out, he’s still rather superficial about it all. Jesus is in his heart. His prayers to God are strong. Tried church a couple times but that didn’t work out. Stuck in a bad relationship with a 15-year-live-in.

The months he spent with me really were the best times of his life. How sad. I cherish the memories of my youth, but my life didn’t stop there. Jesus has led me into the most cherished years and the best is yet to come!

God bless you my old friend. May you find your way right into the arms of Jesus.

Before I agree to do this, I think you should know…

(To catch up with what’s happening, please read the previous post, “I Want What She’s Got”.)

Just as I opened my car door, she said, “Before I agree to do this, I think you should know that I’m a born-again Christian.” What in the world could that have to do with anything? I didn’t want to talk about religion. All I wanted was some HELP. But I really liked her in all ways. I liked the way she was handling her own life, her kids, and especially the practicing alcoholic in her life. She had serenity, good suggestions for finding peace in the middle of life’s storms, and always a caring smile. I figured if that had something to do with this “born-again” business, whatever in the world that meant, I wanted what she had.

Our phone conversation went something like this: I don’t know how to tell you this…I don’t know what I’m going to do…but…I think I might be pregnant. I listened for her reaction and was relieved that I didn’t hear her gasp or choke or scoff. She didn’t even offer sympathy, which I probably didn’t need anyway. She said, “I see” which was her way of saying, “Okay, let’s examine all aspects of this situation, find the positives and negatives, and then map out a plan, prioritizing the steps to be taken.”

She taught me, through everything we went through together over the next few years, how to handle anything life threw at me. She wasn’t shocked that I had actually had sex, and had done it in the stupidest way possible, without birth control, and with someone I didn’t plan to spend the rest of my life with. She was a foster parent and had seen it all. She also knew that if she wasn’t painfully honest with me, I would repeat the same mistakes over and over again and end up a miserable person forever. Through her loving, but firm guidance, I was raised up to be prepared for anything.

Once when I was so upset about something that would be paramount in any young lady’s mind (I’ll give you a hint…it involved another guy, and I’m sure he was more important than the last one I had cried over!), I called her looking for immediate relief. She was so wise in establishing boundaries and responsibility in our relationship. She let me know that she was watching a movie with her family. It would be over in 20 minutes, and she wanted me to call her back then. In the meantime, she said, she wanted me to figure out what I was going to do about this problem!!! Can you believe that? She blew me off! I was a bit miffed. If I knew how to deal with it myself I wouldn’t have called her in the first place!

I spent the first several minutes pacing around, mad at her for being so…gruff…so rude…so…..right. I had to decide what I would do now. I was going to call her back shortly and what would I tell her? That I was angry and hurt because I depended on her to solve all my problems and relieve my of every ounce of pain? That I was still upset and needed her to talk me through it? No, I cracked down on myself and decided that I had acquired enough coping skills up to this point that surely something I had learned would apply to this situation. Let’s see…One Day At A Time? “I can do anything for one hour that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for a lifetime.” Yeah, that kind of made sense. What about K.I.S.S (Keep It Simple Stupid)? I could admit that I might be making a bigger deal out of this than it really was. Didn’t Step 3 say, “Made a decision to turn our will and our life over to the care of God…”? Maybe I could try doing that now.

That wasn’t the last time I called her wanting help. Another time her response was, “I can tell you what Al-Anon says…” There was a flip-side to that coin…something she wasn’t going to tell me unless I asked. What was she getting at? I asked if the Al-Anon answer was what she believed, or if she thought there was another way. She asked if I had a Bible, and for some very strange reason I did happen to have one on the shelf. She told me step by step how to get to the Book of Matthew in the Old Testament (the second half of the Bible), the 6th chapter (she explained that chapters were the bigger bold numbers), verse 25. She told me to read it out loud clear to the end of the chapter. I couldn’t believe what it said! This was Al-Anon stuff, right there in the Bible! From then on she had an open door to suggest more of the same to me. She spoon fed me right into Christianity.

I Want What She’s Got

I went to the Al-Anon meeting that night, not really wanting to think or talk about the alcoholic in my life. Yeah, the focus of the meeting is supposed to be on the step or tradition that has been set for the night’s topic. I know. I know! It’s not about me and my problems right then and there. I have to learn patience and wait until after the meeting to talk about me and get some help with what’s pressing on my mind, and deep in my heart.

It was so hard to concentrate. We went through all the normal housekeeping stuff, the regular readings that had to take place so they would stay deeply ingrained in us and never be forgotten. I knew it forward and backward. The exact topic that night has long since left my memory, but the anxiety of listening and waiting will never be forgotten.

The talking went on and on, and then suddenly the chairperson said, “What do you think?” and she was talking to me. I explained that I was going to have to pass because I had too much on my mind, and was just waiting to discuss it with someone after the meeting.

Who would I share my problem with? Of the few people around this table, which one was right for me? Who could I trust, and who seemed to have the best answers for life’s problems? The man was out. That’s all there was to it. I wasn’t going to pour my story out to him. Nuh uh, no way. One woman was too new to ask suggestions of. It was a small meeting that night and that left only three women to choose from. One, the chairperson for the night, had to leave right away, and that was fine with me. She was kind of bossy, but pretended to be a mother figure to me (sickening sweet and condescending), since I was the only young adult in the group…the only single person for that matter. They were all going to meetings because their spouses were alcoholics, but my alcoholic was my mom.

My story was completely different than any other I had heard at meetings, with the exception of the Alateen meetings I had gone to before I graduated to adulthood. Some of those stories were actually worse than mine! I can remember one girl who had to sneak to Alateen meetings because if her dad found out she would be in big trouble. Obviously, he was the alcoholic, and hadn’t yet accepted and admitted his problem, the problem he was making for his whole family. My mom wanted me to go to meetings so we could all work on our family problems together, was as individuals, but at the same time.

Of the two ladies left to choose from, I had always liked one of them and thought she had a great attitude about life. The other was kind of quiet…super nice, but quiet. She always left me wondering what she was thinking of me, and my oh my…what she would think of me when she heard what I had to say!

These two were in the kitchen, quietly trying to decide who was going to take me on. They probably knew the winner would end up being my Sponsor and had to consider how much time they had to devote to that responsibility. As it turned out, it was the one I was hoping for.

After closing up the meeting house, we walked to the parking lot together. I hadn’t yet told her exactly what this horrible problem was. She said she needed to get home to her family, but could talk on the phone shortly after she got everything at home settled. We agreed that I would call her in 30 minutes, and headed for our cars.

A Shot in the Head?

Which would you prefer? A kick in the pants or a shot in the head?

I once knew someone who missed every sign that was given to him. His parents tried to steer him in the right direction. Teachers worked hard to prepare him for a good future. His girlfriend encouraged him to make something of himself, beside him all the way. Even the police tried to scare him straight. The guy just couldn’t get it right. All he wanted was a little fun, a beer, a joint. He did jail time, and prison too.

We grew apart. Our last conversation involved my trying to find out how he was improving his life, now that he was finally on the outside. I asked what he’d been up to. I could hear some commotion in the background, voices, a little loud and obnoxious, sort of a party sound. When I tried to encourage him to do well, he let me know I would never get him to leave pot behind. That was all I needed to hear to let me know that we wouldn’t be talking again.

As the time passed I missed him dearly. We had been close for years, when I was too naive to understand that a prison inmate wasn’t the best guy for me to be dreaming of, writing to, waiting for. I believed everyone deserved a second chance, no matter what mistakes they had made in the past.

I decided to write him a letter, just like the old days. A pain made my chest contract when the letter came back to me with the word “deceased” stamped on the envelope. I didn’t really believe it but didn’t know how to find out the truth. After putting it off for quite a while, probably because I didn’t really want to know that it was true, I decided to find his parent’s address and send a letter to him through them. I said things like, “I don’t know if you’ll get this or not” and “I don’t really know what to say, but I miss you, and I care about you and just want to know everything’s okay with you.”

About a week later his dad called me. After telling me who he was, he said, “You don’t know, do you?” He told me the whole story about his death. Hearing it was devastating. I called my sponsor as soon as I was off the phone, sobbing uncontrollably. I had loved him and planned on our future being spent together. I just knew he’d come around (the eternal optimist) and we’d live a good life together.

All I could focus on was what was lost. His life, our love, hope, the future, but she suggested I try to be thankful for the good things. Looking back from where I am now, there really weren’t any good things, besides the fact that it was an opportunity for me to love someone. He was messed up from day one until the end when he was literally shot in the head while running from the police.

It’s all about choices. Every day. Before me right this minute are two paths: life and death. I’m at a fork in the road. One way leads to blessing and one leads to cursing. If I make enough choices today that lead to blessing and life, where do I end up next week, next month, next year?

If I want to end up in constant “death” and “cursing” situations down the road, it’s easy to get there. All I have to do is moan and complain at every circumstance that I find myself in. I should never put out any effort to see this situation as training ground, as a springboard to new levels of maturity. That would be too hard. I might have to take a look at myself. I might have to:

• put down the can of beer
• turn off the t.v. (oh no! I’m not doing that because there wouldn’t be any noise in the house to drown out my thoughts, my self-loathing, and my loneliness)
• admit how lost I am
• ask a friend, counselor, pastor, or God for help
• leave my current set of friends behind (those there-for-the-fun-of-it sidekicks who never cross me, challenge me, or encourage me to be any better than I am right now)

To all you 20-somethings who are still engaging in the exact same lifestyle that you were 5-10 years ago: High School ended at graduation. Grow up and experience the adult world of life, love and the pursuit of happiness. I bet you can’t imagine what you’re missing. I dare you to imagine it, and go for it with all you’ve got.

Should I keep my baby?

It was bound to happen. Two young “adults” alone, at night, completely unaccountable to anyone. We had both taken a long break from dating. Me, because I wanted time to grow, so my relationships in the future would be more healthy. Him, because he and his previous girlfriend were expecting and she had miscarried, breaking his heart.

After talking on the phone, going on walks, attending group functions, we graduated to spending time alone. It wasn’t very long before I had that scary realization that I just might be pregnant. When I was ten days late, (TEN DAYS LATE!), I let him in on the emotional roller coaster ride. This was a real blow to him because he knew better than either of us that premarital sex was the last thing he should be doing. He voiced over the phone that this whole thing had been wrong, and that he didn’t even love me. I didn’t take offense at his statement because “loving” him hadn’t even occurred to me until now.

Alone at work one evening, I was wrestling with wanting what was best. What young lady doesn’t love the child within her? I didn’t want to miss the experience of having a baby. I also knew it seemed impossible for me to be able to raise a child on my own. I was barely making ends meet as it was.

I read a page from a booklet of daily inspirational messages (a devotional) about accepting God’s will, His best for everyone concerned, and at that moment I accepted just that, God’s will, whatever it was.

I wasn’t experienced at talking to God…praying…but this booklet said I could talk to Him, and that I should tell Him I was willing to go along with His way of handling this situation, and then completely trust Him with the future.

I spoke the words, “God, please do what’s best for Jim, for me, and for this baby, if there is one inside of me.” Believe it or not (seeing was believing for me!), at that same moment I started my period!

I didn’t think about being happy or sad about not being pregnant. I had just seen a miracle! The only thing that was important was that God Himself had reached down into my minuscule (previously unbelieving) life and had shown an interest in what I was experiencing. At the precise moment when I had reached acceptance…peace…and asked him to do what was best, He did! Was he waiting for me to get to that point, or would it have happened this way anyway?

Whether or not a baby had ever existed inside of me up to this point, it didn’t exist now, and I was okay with that, because God was okay with that.

Very soon after, I became a Christian. Sold out. On Fire. In love with the Jesus of the Bible!

Very soon after, Jim gave up whatever amount of sobriety he had accumulated and heaped more guilt on his head for being such a rotten person that he would dare to give in to temptation.

Where are you now? You didn’t know Christ would use you in such a profound way to reach another one of his little ones and bring them into his flock. I wish I could tell you what a difference you made in my life. One comment in particular that you made will never leave my memory. I didn’t really understand it at the time, and I wonder if you really did either: “Don’t you think that’s Christ trying to get your attention?” He has my full attention now.