A Serious Question

A question was asked of me in November of 2017.  A question that at times in my life I thought I knew the answer to, a question that I’ve also at times been uncertain of the answer, a question that should’ve been easy to answer, a question that at times bore no weight to it, yet other times it carried the weight of the world, a question that once overwhelmed me to the point of anger and frustration, it’s the question that I still ask myself every single day (now two years since it was asked of me at that particular moment) if nothing else but to remind myself of it’s power and purpose and the responsibility that is attached to its answer, because it’s the question that ultimately brought me freedom. 

I don’t know why that specific moment in 2017 was the moment that set that question and my answer on a collision course that is producing the liberty I’m experiencing today.  Maybe my ears were finally open, maybe my heart was finally softened, maybe I was finally willing, maybe I had finally had enough of myself, and maybe I had just the right amount of humility to allow that question to penetrate my soul and to take the time to give it the sincere thoughtful answer that it deserved.  I believe all of these “maybes” have a part to play, but looking back now I can see that very simply – I was ready.

I arrogantly wanted to answer the man’s question with a resounding “YES!” but he wouldn’t let me.  He urged me, no he demanded, that I take some time to think about my answer and the responsibility that came with the answer, whether it be “no” or whether it be “yes.”  So I did.  I pondered it for days, unsure of even what it meant anymore, uncertain if I could even live a life that coincided with my decision should I answer “yes” to his question.  Part of me, honestly, didn’t want to say “yes” because I had been consumed with my own shame for so long, I didn’t deserve to say “yes.”  But then I prayed, on my knees, and asked God to show me – something, anything!  Cause I was out of answers…

The man who asked me this question was my counselor at a place called Peniel Drug and Alcohol Treatment Center.  Peniel is the name of the place referenced in the Old Testament where Jacob wrestled with God for an answer (Genesis 32:30 – So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, meaning: For I have seen God face to face, and my life is preserved.)  And so I wrestled with God for my answer, for the courage, the fortitude, the willingness, and faith to give the correct answer.  The question that man asked me that day was this simple but extremely profound question.  As I was speaking, more or less sharing all of my excuses with him, he stopped me mid-sentence and asked me, “Son, do you want to be a man of God, or not?” 

The question enraged me and filled me with remorse all at once.  “Man of God” – who was he to ask me such a thing, didn’t he just listen to my stories about ministry involvement and church attendance?  Who does he think he is?  How dare he ask me that?  But it wasn’t the question itself or him that made me angry.  It was the fact that someone HAD to ask me that question.  If I hadn’t done what I had done, if I hadn’t drifted so far from the Truth, then no one would’ve have had to ask me that question.  But here was a man who had just met me, basically a stranger, gazing into my heart and speaking directly to my deception. 

Through the course of my addiction I had picked back up and re-bottled all of the issues that I thought I once laid down; my childhood despairs, various forms of abuse, the abandonment issues, losing my parents to cancer, being bullied as a boy, defective relationships, and my failures; allowed them to morph into and fuel self-pity, resentment, anger, fear, distrust, doubt, and debilitating shame, which in turn manifested itself as a dark, heart-choking, life numbing, destructive addiction to drugs and alcohol.  I had been sober for several years in my late twenties when I had a shoulder injury that lead to 3 surgeries and a pain-killer addiction which in time turned into the use of other substances.  The weight of it was crushing for me and for my family.  I gave all that I had to my addiction, my blood, sweat, tears, time, money, career, marriage, and even my children, yet it still it wanted more. 

Fortunately for me God finally recaptured my heart and I rededicated my life to Christ on December 13th of 2017.  One of the first verses that helped to begin my healing process was 2 Corinthians 7:10 which states “For Godly sorrow produces repentance, leading to salvation, not to be regretted, but the sorrow of the world produces death.”  Repentance and salvation are the foundation to the life of obedience to God’s Word that I am striving to live today.  Not obedience out of obligation but obedience out of longing, a longing to walk closely with Christ, to serve Him with the best that I can give Him.  Because He deserves my very best – and………because I love Him. 

Living at the Tikvah Home has only enhanced my opportunity to grow closer with The Lord and has enriched my life tremendously, on every level.  There’s love here, and encouragement, and hope, along with accountability and support.  I am so grateful for the Friends of Recovery NEO ministry, for Godly counsel that I receive on a regular basis, and for the relationships I have with my brothers in the house as well as the men in our JourneyMen Group.  I know that my season here is temporary but the memories and relationships I have here are for a lifetime.  And I know that my experience in this home is without a doubt helping me to become a better man, and helping me to affirm my answer to that very serious question that was asked of me not so long ago.  “Do you want to be a man of God, or not?”  “Yes sir…I do.”