Session 5

Crashing and Burning: The Insanity of Drugs and Alcohol - Distraction

 

Brenda and I talked over lots of coffee; I gave her a couple of names and phone numbers of women I knew who had programs that could help her. She knew that there was no quick fix, that any choice would yield doubt and discouragement. We embraced and said good‑bye.

I give her to you tonight, Lord. Use me in her life if you want.  Page 64

 

1 Corinthians 13

 

Melinda

I love this woman. True, to love her requires a certain courage and an acceptance of my tendency to make mistakes, to be exces­sively generous, and to be taken for a fool. Anyone who has seen addiction in operation knows this. To love her, though, does not mean I must always be prudent or that I must calculate all the pros and cons. I think love does not always look for success, nor is it blind to danger. But it does believe in the intrinsic beauty and pos­sibility of the beloved. In the end, I believed in that sacred quality of Melinda – the presence of God – that longs for her wholeness, for the unique and living forces of her real self to develop. Page 67

 

Melinda will realize her own feelings and thoughts, her wishes, interests, resources, and movements of love. This constant pull toward life is what gives her dignity. I saw this dignity in her, a dignity given to her by her Creator, independent of all the failures and bad decisions and ugly stuff that society frequently holds up as reasons for her condemnation. If I am called to anything as a priest and as a Christian, I am called to stride into – not run from – the untidiness and fear and brokenness and shame that is around me, that country of humanness in which we all live and share. Page 68

 

I don't have any illusions about Melinda's chances. The recidivism rate of addicts is statistically very high, as is the rate of premature deaths of addicts. So I am not kidding myself. But stars don't drive one's life of service down here. The heart does. I am not sure how God's heart connects to ours, but as I walked away from the bus depot, that connection was there, and I felt encircled by peace and joy.

And when he found [the lost sheep in the wilderness], would he not joyfully take it on his shoulders and then, when be got home, call together his friends and neighbors? “Rejoice with me, … I have found my sheep that was lost.”      Luke 15:5‑7

Safe trip, Melinda.Page 69

 

Marshall

He wobbled a bit, pondered a bench as though he was trying to see through it, and then began to cry. “I don’t know what has happened to them to make them like this, something awful, painful. I wish I could help them, but I am so fucking weak, so trapped in my own body.”

He spoke of past days and – like a moth that has to return to the light bulb that distracts and will eventually consume it – of the war, of his time in Southeast Asia. There was the clandestine work for the government and “the killing, the killing, the goddamn killing.” “But I am a warrior,” he said, trying to reassure himself

He moved to the topic of God and said his only hope for forgiveness was Jesus. “Jesus wasn’t stupid,” he told me, holding my eyes. He paused. “I carried the cross on Holy Friday.”

I said, “The way I read the gospel, that is what a warrior does for his king. As you said, Marshall, my man, Jesus wasn’t stupid when it came to loving and forgiving. The cross is a sign of that truth.”

We walked for another fifteen minutes, silently. He moved into peace.

Jesus isn't stupid. We can kid ourselves about Jesus, but he never kids himself about us. There is theology for a lifetime in that. Page 70f.

 

Mary

Midway through the game, Mary pulled out a five‑dollar bill and, with great motherly solicitude, told me to go buy myself a hot dog and beer and to please get her a diet Coke. It was one of those moments to die for. After rent, five dollars is actually a significant percentage of her monthly budget. It was the unmatchable gift that only the poor are capable of offering. I accepted it, knowing that her need to share was much more important than my sanctimonious tendency to decline. Page 71f.

 

Tanya

I loved Tanya very much. I understand why she died, but I do not understand the destructive forces that killed her. How often I wanted to sustain the little embraces we would give to each other, letting my tenderness seep into her body and soul and create a moment of trust. I wanted her to experience that peace where she could sink into herself and find that inner place that is God’s peace, where there would be no strings attached, no deals, no propositions. Many nights, gathering up in my heart the people of the day, I asked God to work the miracle of good people in Tanya’s life, to provide the rich self‑understanding that would lead to a decent and happy life. It was not possible.

As I write this, I commend her and her momma to you, O God. Page 76

 

Mike

He had fallen in love. It had not only opened him up to some good and exciting growth and brought him happiness, but also, paradoxically, had unleashed some old demons. Can love do that? It was as if two movements were competing within him: loving being loved and believing he was unlovable. He kept using the word monster to describe himself, but did he call himself that because of some specific acts or because of delusions that were rooted in his self‑loathing? Therein entered doubt, and confusion and fear bled into a relationship of potential goodness. Faced with it all, Mike broke off all contact with the woman, began to drink himself silly, and turned into, well, a monster. I thought to myself: Are drugs far behind? Page 77f