California

Every time I return to California I am reminded of the frantic pace behind, underneath, and within everything people do…until you get down to the beach that is. Once you can hear the ocean, there is an immediate slowing which happens; the fact that the slowing happens franticly is the kind of irony I enjoy.

It is much like driving the freeways at rush hour, which is a true testament of the patience lying deep within the human spirit. On my way into San Diego from Las Vegas I was halted by traffic immediately upon descending the San Bernardino Mountains, which turned me towards the ocean and my destination. 

Matter of fact, I was parked for nearly three hours at which time the people in my heard travelled 10 miles.

I was relaxed because traffic is a part of any California experience. Just sit back, roll the windows down and breathe it all in…oh wait that is less desirable. Keep the windows up and use the air conditioning, but only if you have enough gas to make your trip. Keeping in mind it may take slightly longer than anticipated. ☺

The irony of it all is how reckless people drive when there is no traffic and how accepting everyone seems when everything is halted by the mass of hundreds of thousands of cars on the road at the very same point in time and space. You see glimpses of that reckless fervor when space opens up sending everyone immediately, grandmothers included, like rockets towards that next traffic stoppage; as though somehow they can in fact make up for that lost time. 

I hate to break it to you…that time is gone, you will never get it back and crashing into the mass of tail lights is really not what you want…

At least I cannot fathom a culture in which this is the desired outcome… if I was so inclined to do the research, I would look into fatalities during rush hour traffic; I bet the data would be surprising. How on earth do people have fatal crashes when traffic is at a stand-still? Easy, they launch themselves into a tiny gap hoping the lights before them flicker out, finally making another infinitely smaller gap… but those lights do not flicker out. They stand fast and soon enough you find yourself greeting the individuals inside the car via their trunk.

This does not include motorcycles, as those crazy buggers are allowed to weave between traffic and ride the lines, which is terrifying when you think about it. There is just too much that can and will go wrong in those small spaces between car lanes…in my mind anyway.

I try my best to be cognizant of motorcycles; where they are in relation to me and where they might be seconds later despite their great speed advantage which renders them like slow motion bullets in the matrix. Unfortunately we are not Neo. I basically keep my head on a swivel, but when I hear the roar of a motorcycle coming up from somewhere behind me when traffic is stopped dead, I get a bit more than slightly nervous.

Not going to lie. 

I tense up and cringe because the majority of those I see are not driving slowly between traffic - instead they’re racing through because it is their time to shine. Although traffic is stopped, people continue to change lanes unsafely and rest over the lane markings. I understand this action is legal but that does not make it safe; like a sixteen year old driving the 65 mile an hour speed limit for the first time. It may be legal but it is definitely and consistently unsafe. Having been one of those 16 year olds, many, many moons ago I remember the absolute careless and reckless abandon myself and all of my kind showed.

Okay, sorry, I had to get that out; I had been thinking about those crazy two wheeled racing buggers since last Friday. I feel better, hopefully you do as well. I am sure it was on your mind.

Now to the fun stuff; driving on the freeway when there is light traffic (I know it is rare, but it does happen). 

This is a true blood sport and the strong do not stop to check on the weak and/or dying as they pass them by, often nudging them towards their peril. They are moving much too fast to notice anything behind them except the lights and sirens of the California Highway Patrol of course. The mental attitude of the California driver seems to border on suicidal and homicidal and I imagine if there are any studies on this subject they show these types of results.

The truth is however, these factors do not necessarily make them poor drivers…in fact, the poor drivers stand out like dark freckles on a beautiful red headed woman… oh dear, mind wanders momentarily to red heads; yikes, I would say sorry, but that would be a lie…. If you are slow, hesitant, scared, and/or confused; my advice is to be careful and maybe just park it or take the bus. And you better know where you are going because there is no such thing as courtesy in a blood sport. 

The mentality is ruthless and harsh. Human beings trapped inside aluminum rockets on wheels with the illusion of invincibility; zigging, zagging, and all pretending they are the only ones with anywhere to go. I think the latter is quite normal for drivers anywhere; there is something about the isolation factor when we close the doors and get moving, focused on where WE are going.

Of course the same could be said for many of us in general…hence a portion of us have to go to daily training on “how to interact with and not alienate from other humans”. That is definitely another blog…

While in our cars, the rest of us are expendable objects in the way of progress and they will cut you off, run you off the road, out of your lane, and definitely out of your mind. The funniest part about this is that most of them will have absolutely no idea they did anything wrong or even that you were there in the first place. 

That would be tragic funny, not funny “Ha Ha.” 

Enough of all that… back to the original idea behind writing while away. Although I did tinker slightly with my next book, that whole thing still strikes me as an ordeal of monumental proportion so I looked at it with the kind of eyes that really do not want to see anything.

The big three…

Rather the last of the big three; after nearly ten days of writing and avoiding writing by engaging in the beautiful world around me, it occurred to me tonight that the mental process which had been rolling around in the coconut the last few weeks were perhaps the last stages or stage of grief. The mind, so bludgeoned and focused outside itself generally had not been given the proper time and place to let go…

Until faced with so much time away from everything at which time the introspection became a full time job…thankfully I did not have to be consciously aware of everything going on back there. I knew instinctively by the fact that I attended two meetings a day without thought or question. I literally planned everything around the local meeting schedules of San Diego and the Los Angeles area. This schedule kept me feeling somewhat spiritually fit during what can be a challenging time…dealing with loss and grief. 

It occurred to me tonight while I sat staring out my hotel room window into the vast desert, praying and meditating, knowing recognition was somewhere near. I focused on letting go everything holding me back, not knowing exactly what that might be, from becoming the person God may want me to be. I watched from that internal eye, as one person then another wandered off into their own little desert; even those who I had imagined letting go long before. 

I felt the lightness swell from within me and soar off with the crows into the dusky, desert sky. And then it came…an incredible tightness when her face flashed behind my eyes. As she walked towards the desert floor to make her way from within me, the sensation caused a stomach cramp, which I knew came from me holding her tightly after a great deal of time and work had passed. I knew it was right to let her go now, once again, and the word “acceptance” came through, ringing the insides of my ears. 

Could it be so simple? 

Had I not accepted the ending, despite processing that it had finally ended…at least imagining I had processed it. A spectacular awakening took place and in everything related to her, “acceptance” became the master. The cramp in my stomach twisted and turned briefly, causing me to use the bathroom, but then was gone. 

What was left was a slight buzzing on the skin, light headedness, and a slowing of breath and pulse as the physical being let go of that stress the mind and heart were carrying. As the physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional beings all changed at once. It was different now and I could feel it in the slightest yet most significant of ways. 

I was set free slightly more than I was on the previous day. What occurred to me as well was that she too was finally and hopefully set free. In my prayers since the last time I saw her all I have asked for was that she was finally free of me; that we would no longer have to question or wonder whether we should be together. 

I had watched and felt that sunrise earlier in the day; felt in my bones, knowing something was changing. I looked back to the previous night, recognized the frantic pace of everything around me and instantly felt my connection to it all. 

While I watched the sun setting that previous night, there were gun shots nearby which caused me to seek out another location. I could feel the frantic pace of my mind after that as I drove and searched. Unable to find another place, I prayed and prayed and eventually things began to calm down. 

I got lost looking for a meeting in a relatively rough area but prayed and prayed, as the pace inside my mind kicked off from normal; eventually I broke down and turned on the GPS which will cost me a small fortune because I am out of country. Once I found the meeting, everything slipped away again, as I was home. No matter where I go to meetings the feeling is always the same…I am at home and I am always welcome. 

The meeting was fantastic despite an old timer back talking everyone who shared; my mind was undaunted by all the potentially distracting meeting realities. About half way through the meeting the building was rocked by a large earth quake which sent everyone in the room besides myself and the meeting chair, scrambling for the doorway. There was no panic in me despite potential disaster, nor was there any in the chair person. That was not surprising, he was not only an old timer, but he had obviously survived the kind of life that requires keeping calm and carrying on.

Afterwards we chatted because he noticed I did not move from my chair and I seemed relaxed. “I believe in the power of prayer,” I said, “not that somehow prayer will magically lift me rather than someone else from the rubble safely…but that should I be taken today, I have done my best to live better than I did yesterday…that if God’s will for me today is to move on, then I accept that fully with an open heart…” 

He smiled and said, “You work and hang with good people…” He shook my hand… 

“I am surrounded and pushed by incredible teachers and I am incredibly blessed to be exactly where I am today…” I shook his hand with a big smile, “it was nice to meet you.” 

“You as well, welcome to California,” he said and laughed, as he walked away.

Whatever calm there was or is in me, was and is taught to me by the elders and really is what I try to pass along to others. That and the definition of staying long enough to allow time to have her impact on the process of recovery and on life. No matter how much I feel that I have let something go, there may be more inside, deeply rooted in my subconscious which keeps me from accepting “what is” or “letting go and letting God.”.

This is one example of why I need to continue to put in time, prayer and the other work on recovering, lest I cling to my old ways and not even know that I am doing it. My disease is cunning, baffling, and powerful and requires so much more patience than I can describe or even know at this point in time. 

By the grace of God I go. Prayer, service, step work, and fellowship… 

David Lewry

This might take some time…the mind has slipped into a strange blender of exhaustion and acute, frightening alertness to every sound in the hotel. It occurs to me that I could take a walk, but this is not the neighborhood to stroll through at 3 in the morning. The energy is all wrong for tourist loitering and these are the witching hours in neighborhoods like this all across the planet. The only people outside are criminals, party animals and the people who clean up their mess. I have no business being out there any longer. So alas I sit and make a vain attempt of writing.

I remember thinking, as I hit I-15 heading south towards Los Angeles that I was going to focus this blog or whatever on the three big lost loves…i.e. those who nearly killed me once we ended. Although each woman kind enough to spend any time with me left an impact, there were three who left an indelible mark upon my mind and spirit.

Even though I have spent a large amount of time running through the wreckage, rubbish, and wonders of my past, I continue to process whatever comes to mind, remaining brightly in plain sight. Full of gratitude, I have determined that each event, either positive or negative (based on my judgment of such things) was essential to drive me to wherever I happen to be in this moment... and this moment is pretty fucking amazing if I am honest.

Knowing they have all shaped me to some degree, no matter how slight it might appear at first glance was enough inspiration to get me spinning in the right direction. Those who came into my life like a flickering, intense flame blowing out much too fast were like a knockout punch. Once the cobwebs cleared, I could breathe again, and slowly I could see and think straight. Therefore it seemed only natural to move on as that elusive and subjective sanity returned. Whether the decision was mine or theirs it always seemed absolutely right to accept that moment of fate as fitting perfectly in time with the universe.

The big three however, are those main events in human history which govern the movements of societies. I know this is a slight exaggeration, but I am also certain you understand the connection. Time heals the wounds absolute, but no amount of time goes by wherein the mind cannot be pulled into reflection on these beauties. Thankfully through the recovery process, this is no longer morbid.  

Their incredible presence in my life is real, filling me with a deep sense of peace, knowing I have indeed lived life to the best of my ability. I am grateful to know there is no regret or bitterness alive in my heart for these relationships. The big three in fact carry the sweet memory of what love really felt like and its very possibility.

The desert always strikes a very romantic chord in me; whatever small romantic part is left that is. It catches me off guard at first, as I rarely think in romantics anymore. My life seems to consist of logic and practicalities more and more. However, if the past has shown me anything; it is that although romantic love is quite absurd and completely illogical, there is a very real and solid place for it in the world… and perhaps even for me. I will leave that stuff for God.

The entire six hour drive from Las Vegas to San Diego was filled with musings and memories of the big three. The tape rolled through easily and joyfully, leaving me with wonderfully vivid ideas and directions to take this missive. 

However, once I woke up in San Diego everything changed.

The first full day in town, I noticed the large amount of young veterans everywhere I went. Immediately the original subject matter lost its level of importance. I could barely remember what I had intended to write as a matter of fact even though I had begun the night before. 

How do you tell that story…and briefly?

As I get older, it appears that I think on and imagine different things, but that is not entirely true. What has happened, God willing will continue, is looking at the same things through different eyes. From the spiritual awakening came an illumination in perspective. That does not mean I believe I am correct in my perspective, only that it seems I am seeing through brand new, constantly changing eyes… by the grace of God.

Sitting at a stop light, feeling the tears well up as the thoughts of all those who sacrifice so that I can in fact be exactly where I am in that moment. My mind began to blow up on itself; perhaps it imploded in some respect…regardless I felt my spirit swell with gratitude. The kind I felt when I realized I never had to drink or use drugs again…one day at a time. 

The sensation was immediately overwhelming and although I am not much of a crier these days, I began to feel the sting of warm, salty tears run from my eyes. In those odd moments, I recognize it is in fact the oddest of coincidences that when I cry I happen to be alone in my car. I do not believe in coincidences.

It occurred to me that although I may or may not have lived a full life to this point; I could not possibly contribute enough to make up for the sacrifices those who serve or have served make. The question of how began to burn a small hole into my mind, as I watched the surfers freely move with the breaking waves…

Just as I turned away to make my way back down the peer… the wheel fell off and the hamster crashed into the floor.

I was walking, well limping when I stumbled into a group of Marines. How did I know they were Marines? It is impossible to mistake the confidence with which they carry themselves. Even the fellow, who was in a wheel chair due to a double amputation of his legs just below the hips, had a look on his face that told me he was one of them.

I felt compelled to speak, actually wanted to ask for their autographs, but stumbled through a very awkward and loud “Thank you for your service gentlemen!” They stared at me for a moment and said just as awkwardly, “you’re welcome.” 

I just stood there, mind fixated on the Marine in the wheel chair as an overwhelming sadness swallowed me whole. I asked where they served and they said, “wherever they send us” and laughed. They told me Afghanistan; I nearly burst into tears right there and grabbed each of them and hugged them, but common sense won over valor. I might regret not hugging them but for now I believe it was the right choice to make. That would have made things extremely awkward…I am sure. 

The Marine in the wheel chair was my younger brother, Nathan’s age. I said thank you again and they went on their way. 

I had to sit down and compose myself. My spirit was outraged, saddened, full of gratitude and love, and completely humbled by their presence. When I found a bench I sat, let out the deepest sigh (an attempt to keep the tears away) and a very loud “fuck” escaped my mouth. 

Thoughts turned to prayer and meditation and gradually I calmed down; my reaction shocked me. I simply allowed myself to be shocked and emotionally overwhelmed…what was the alternative? It seemed the emotions were charging up from deep within me and needed to be felt…like emotions are want to do.

“thank You God… for the men and women who constantly place themselves in harm’s way that we may live such lives as these…may You bless and keep them God. May You direct me to become the person You would have me be…whatever that may be God. May I serve You and others more fervently and selflessly than I am capable of today, God. May You direct me God that I can be of use… I know that I can never repay these men and women who give so much…may You be the strength and courage I need to become and do better than I am today… in Your loving name, Amen”

Some version of that prayer ran constantly through my mind as I sat there, trying not to cry, unsuccessfully I might add. I was grateful I wasn’t sobbing, which I have been known to do when my spirit swells with such agony and gratitude all at once. 

As I sat the group returned, heading to the beach. His friends carried the wheel chair down the stairs and he maneuvered himself expertly down and across the sand walking only on his hands, dragging torso slowly behind him. I did not hear him complain; I could only hear his laughter as he joked with his comrades and pulled himself across the sand towards the water.

It is moments like this, which remind me that although I could never repay even this one man’s sacrifice, I need to try better today to be even better than I could possibly imagine being. I do not want their sacrifices to be in vain. I do not want to rest my head on my soft pillow, my body on a soft bed, resting easy because of them without repeating as often as I can…thank you. Thank you and showing my gratitude in helping others…thank you. It will be by God’s grace that is for certain and in His strength alone.

When I take account of the day ahead of me and that which lies behind me, I want to feel that at the least I tried to contribute to the idea and ideal these men and women are trying to protect. I do not imagine this idea to be consumerism, consumption, or belligerent elitism. That is not what I see and hear in the people on the street. The idea I see is freedom of spirit, mind, and body. Knowing that I will fail to do anything near enough, it will be some small consolation when I think of them and when I see them, that I can say thank you; and that in any given day, I can make a serious and specific effort to help my fellows as much as possible. 

I will try and remember every morning and throughout the day as well; I will not complain and I will not allow self-pity, by the grace of God, to rule in my life… these are tall tasks, but in them perhaps my salvation for not being able to pay them back. My hope is that whoever you are, wherever you are, you find your way to give back to these people past and present…

Thank you, 




David Lewry 

A Changing Voice

Wow…another year has flown by, quickly fading from view as the days march frozen into 2014.

I feel the miles wearing upon the body more than in years passed…must be the phenomenon of nearing that mountain peak of forty mixed with a body that acts like it is nearing the ripe old age of eighty. If I am honest, there have been moments where I felt down right physically fragile. A feeling I am completely unfamiliar with…well, was unfamiliar with. 

The mind and spirit however, grow resilient and agile by comparison. What a miraculous and wholly unexpected ride this is… by the grace of God.

The year began in a usual way; schedule jam-packed with family, friends, church, service work, counseling, groups, and funerals. There is no doubt that I experienced some ups and downs throughout the year but that is expected, accepted and appreciated because without fail, life will always continue to be life. And if not for those ups and downs, I would most likely no longer be breathing so what a gift every moment is.

Whether I am sheltered within a developing faith or trying to grind out in the same manner I once did; the sun rises and sets every day, the river continues to flow, the Chinook winds furiously blow, and the incredible Rockies stand tall to the west. Today I choose a path which requires constant and steady faith building exercises.

Why?

I see the remnants and relics of the old self-will lifestyle coming back for closure. The reality of that existence in hindsight is beyond twenty-twenty and all too real. I am also blessed to see others struggle, sometimes capsizing under the weight of a selfish existence but often making choices to move forward despite the pain.

It is difficult to stand by watching while at the same time an incredible learning experience as to why we continue to put in the work each and every day. Working towards surrender even when we imagine we have surrendered fully. 

The Ego is a tricky devil but the devil does not have to get his due.

Although I can see the dangers of complacency, as clear as a blue sky day for myself that does not mean I perform the task of recognition and practice perfectly at every given opportunity. There is something wholly undeniable and obvious however, when you watch another human being make decisions based out of self and the resulting outcomes of those decisions.

Being able to see the self in the challenges of others and connect to them through the very human struggles with Ego that we all face is the key. What has brought me much closer to my fellows is this very fact. An obvious example is when I notice someone judging, I can see where I too judge and my mouth remains as closed as possible.

The most contributing factor in this psychic change was and remains working the steps whenever I need to and continually engaging their principles as best I can in order to strengthen conscious contact with God. However, this was not the only factor.

There is action and more action…as they say.

I had to purposefully stop searching for the differences between us and begin focusing on the similarities of the human condition beyond just my fellow alcoholics and addicts. I had to stop talking even though my answer was right recognizing it really made no difference. I had to stop trying to convince people of what I thought they should know. I had to stop expecting anyone to do anything beyond exactly what they were doing. I had to give whatever was asked without assuming or expecting the recipients to do anything different. 

Once the process started, this stuff really started rolling and coming together.

It is as though the consciousness is being opened in many new ways to seemingly new things, but it is also being opened to what was already there in some form. In the old days, I simply took it all for granted. I expected there to always be duality even when the character defects started to wear down any and all positive attributes I may have carried.

Eventually we all fall off the fence to one side or the other…

Looking back over the year always leads me to the beginning of the journey. Back to where it all started in minute increments over minutes, hours, and days. The jumping off point when the light of day was prominently overwhelmed by the dark of night.

By the grace of God the obsessions to drink and use were lifted. 

As time goes by He removes more and more of my obsessive thought and behavioral patterns. There is not a day which passes now where I cannot find gratitude to God for removing the obsessive anger and the resulting judgment and resentment from my heart…this past year definitely provided the backdrop in furthering my understanding of what acceptance means in my life.

The biggest observation of this past year however, has been witnessing the changing voice inside my head. It is seemingly changing for the better, but when I sit to work on the written word it does not always feel as such.

There remains that voice, which screams to bludgeon the reader with explicit, stark raving mad nakedness and fervent experience. Yet at the same moment there is a slowly developing voice which cries for a reasonable and peaceful explanation. Trying to blend these two voices is difficult but not impossible and there is no doubt in my mind that both are necessary for not only writing but survival as well.

The duality of David so to speak; I thank God this duality has worn itself down to vulgarity within articulation. The old version of duality had a much different and violent transition point. The days where I would serve my community until the hour struck noon or five o’clock when I could slip away into the darkness of a completely alternate universe.

By the grace of God I go.

On the one hand preparing messages or prayers for a funeral or church service feels comfortable; well as comfortable as some of these things can ever feel I imagine. On the other hand I feel perfectly comfortable when not in those situations using the most brutal of descriptions to express a certain point. 

I.e. Trying to write a funeral service while also working on a section of The Book (how it is in my head now that it has been in the works for over a year and a half) where I am describing the depth of sexual depravity I have explored is a challenge. The mind simply does not appreciate the juxtaposition required to flop back and forth. It is an embarrassment of riches to be sure, but there are moments when I wonder, “Purple elevator monkey…”

I do not believe that there is anything wrong with either side of this coin; nor do I imagine God being displeased or angry with me. It seems to be simply a matter of balance and as most people know, things are much more difficult to balance than they first appear.

Let’s be honest, this is not limited to writing but it definitely is an easy way to express and argue the point with myself. Unfortunately all three of you reading this have to muddle through every word to hopefully find the point.

I hope you can as well, but no hard feelings if you don’t. I will not judge you. 

By the grace of God, I am not overly alarmed by anything these days and if that rush of blood to the head occurs, the feeling passes rather quickly. So I understand if it makes no sense to you and am not only aware of but comfortable with the possibility that you may want to figuratively burn this writ. Feel free, I have definitely been there.

What is happening is nothing more than a part of the life recovery process and I am grateful to still be walking the path on this side of the grass. Although it can be fucking annoying at times, it is what it is which is exactly as it is supposed to be.

2013 equaled not only another stage or step in becoming comfortable in my own skin…whatever that skin happens to look like. 2013 was also another layer in understanding what the idea of “comfort in my own skin” even means. The skin we are talking about goes far beyond the surface to the inner skin where our true being exists…thank God it is not skin deep, I would be in serious trouble.

By God’s grace I may get another year to layer pluck and see even more.

As much as things change there is still a part of me which exists that may neither change nor need to in any respect. I try and leave that to God. Some time ago, I recognized a simple truth; I have no bloody idea what parts of me He still needs intact or whatever purpose He sees fit to use my perceived weaknesses. All I really know is that His purpose lies far beyond anything clever I can come up with. My current action is to constantly surrender to these liberating ideas as best I can.

These characteristics, like the rest, are between God and I not you and I. This fact allows a certain comfort and acceptance with all that is…in the world, in you and within me. Imagine a life in which you understand this beautiful existence where all that you do and are is between you and whatever Higher Power you pray to. 

It was never meant to be judged by your fellows of any description…unless you commit crimes, then it is another matter altogether.

Perhaps we were meant to be free, autonomous creatures actually choosing to be useful and loving in our own ways. Where our mistakes became choices that either worked  out the way we planned or did not, but we were able to see that in some way it all worked out exactly as it was supposed to.

I endeavor to limit my negative impact on others, but of course this is not a perfect science. In order to work with others positively and not withdraw completely to avoid harm; we must engage. Thereby we become susceptible of not only being harmed but causing it as well. We can never control what others do to us, but we can control our reactions.

Limiting harm caused is made much easier when I pause before speaking or acting to not only pray but to recognize that for every moment I think I know what is wrong  in someone else there may be an individual thinking thus about me. If that is true then I am no different than anyone else trying to make a life out of this existence. Clearly it is not my place to make judgments on people any more than it is for them to indulge an Egocentric exercise of placing their own upon me or others; regardless of their perceived standing or position.

There is something tragically comic about listening to a person lash out on others behavior while attempting to keep their own closet doors firmly locked. Today, I see a huge difference between inspiring people by sharing the obvious rewards of living to the best of our ability a life of recovery and trying to commit ourselves to saint hood at the expense of the actual truth. 

I will continue to pray for all and hope that they too pray for me when I fall short of the ideal we collectively strive towards. Judgment only leads to more judgment while loving leads only to love.

By Your grace God, may I love more this year and judge less. May I pray more and let go of all that I cannot control. May I be a light onto the world around me that they can see Your works through my words, actions, and ideas. May I be an instrument for You God, just for today.

Amen

It is incredible to me when doubt is gone.

When the presence of acceptance flows and floods every particle of my being; when I can see the world as completely beautiful. It appears full of wonder and purpose amidst turmoil, disappointment and struggle. 

In fact, the very thought of turmoil and struggle quickly turns into thoughts of opportunity and growth. An amazing feat brought about by the psychic change they warned me about.
Despite how ego-centric I can become…the moments of freedom add upon one another over the course of time like bricks in the foundation of a strong fortress. 

But of course time is not all; there is action and more action, as they say.

There is surrender, which I must practice ad infinitum.

There was a time when I wondered how the design for living would work when push came to shove in my own life. In the first few years I saw what appeared to be people learning to live an abundant life built on faith. Whether this life was full of material wealth or completely devoid of it, they wore a sense of peace across their countenance that I had never known or imagined.

Yet I remained a tough sell on the ideas and concepts…until resistance gave way to surrender that is.

The last five years have taught me, time after time, that there is not only something far greater than I at work in the universe, but that my surrender to this power can leave me relatively invulnerable to the woes of life which used to haunt me…and they haunted nearly every waking hour… 

Several weeks ago I was told my back is broken. As the initial shock gave way to recognition, I clearly identified the moment of choice. 

I closed my eyes and surrendered as best I could though negative thoughts raced through my mind, fighting for control like an invading virus. I prayed and continued to pray as the doctor spoke; for this has become my habit in all situations. There was a flicker that all was going to be ok, even though I had no idea what that would look like. 

Even though I could not conceive of a life without certain realities being available to me.

There was no more lifting, there was no more golf, and the days spent walking for hours were out of the question in that instant. 

I listened to the reasoning and the explanations as to the dangers associated with continuing the activities which had brought me, not only joy but a sense of freedom and peace, and felt a sense of panic attempt to flood my system. I prayed intently, knowing it was going to be ok yet the panic resisted and tried to settle into a dark corner of my mind… I continued to pray without ceasing.

The symptoms were numbness in my right leg which was accompanied by a chronic, often debilitating pain in my right hip which extended to my groin and on bad days all the way down to my knee. The doctor explained the numbness as slight paralysis potentially caused by nerve damage from vertebrae fractures and splintering due to the absence of a disk.

In that moment my sick brain told me life had hit a very certain and conclusive end point, but by the grace of God I did not fully agree with my conclusion. There was a sense of doubt and fear, which was absolute and reasonable. Yet as I left the doctor’s office, that still, quiet voice whispered “it will be ok”, “it will be ok”.

As scared as I was; certainty began to push away lingering doubt.

It occurred to me that surrender and acceptance were and always will be the answer. 

So as fear crept in slowly, I gave in to prayer and went about working with others in the same way I had been practicing for years. Gradually, through moments of slippery faith that quiet voice began to win out.

“Stay the course, it is all ok…”

I have no better prognosis today than I did back then; in fact today I know with certainty that there is significant nerve damage from the factures in my vertebrae. Regardless, the physical side of things seems a bit less daunting and I feel as though no matter what happens it is exactly as it is supposed to be.

By the grace of God I go. 

I have never imagined that I would get off scot free for the life I lived in which I used my body as a weapon and treated it as though indestructible. For every action there is an equal or greater reaction…indeed. 

Today, the greater reaction to the action of prayer and surrender is peace, calm, and acceptance of all that is, whether I like it or not. And trust me when I say that I was not immediately overwhelmed by joy.

Then there was a girl… and a couple of fantastic months after we met, our time was done. Although it was sad to see and feel it end, it was exactly what needed to happen. I am not necessarily certain as to the reason only that one exists.

The oddest thing happened really; there was instant acceptance. Once the ending was initiated, it took a few days of prayer and talking it out with a trusted person to realize I was not fighting the flow at all. The acceptance of the end never gave way to thoughts and doubts of “maybe we should try” or “perhaps ending isn’t the right thing.” 

I knew, and it was ok.

I am not going to ruminate further on the affair because that is not the point, at least not today. What has happened is a very practical and profound alteration in my ability to process changing circumstances throughout my life.

God is doing for me what I could not do for myself.

Although I felt the sadness of loss and the sensation of loneliness which ensued, the bulk of these emotions lasted only a few of days. Even the old ego, which often beat savagely upon its own brow in loneliness and sorrow gave way without much fight or argument.

It is fascinating to me how things can change...what is more fascinating is the change God makes, which is often a profound matter of perspective, affecting me in a deeply psychic and spiritual way.

Fighting with the flow of things had become so tiring and frustrating in years passed that it barely seemed worthwhile to keep going. This steadily forming acceptance however, is a key to previously locked doorways, leading from the catacombs of the spirit to the sunlight instead.

What an amazing gift!

It often surprises me when people comment on my positive attitude; it surprises me for many reasons not the least of them being how dramatically different that is from the negative, defeatist attitude I carried for so long. The comment is rarely about specific things, but in general towards life. God is doing for me what I could not do for myself.

They sometimes ask what happened to allow for such a perspective change…

My answer is always the same… although I have completed several sets of steps, the major changes in my behavioral pattern over the past few years are prayer and being of service in any way I can to my fellows.

These simple yet definite actions significantly alter my psychic state and consciousness from one of fear to one of faith in every circumstance I encounter. Like most people, circumstances vary from experiencing death and health issues to the loss of jobs or relationships. 

These actions also work in times when I behave full of kindness and generosity and when I need to be pulled from the selfish darkness I can sometimes find myself.

I have been taught freely and often; in turn I have tried to practice and teach every day without exception. I try to illustrate a life of prayer leading to surrender, which always leads me to service and through these acceptance becomes the answer.

Service to man is service to God. 

Regardless of what name I put on the top of the prayer form…

I have no indisputable proof, but the life I live today in contrast to that I once lived, but I need no other proof… the argument is over. 

It is as true as the snow billowing and blowing outside my window at this very moment on this extremely cold and miserable December morning.

Whether the skies are tumultuous or clear, prayer has become a constant ally in my daily life. I firmly believe that a certain and eerie comfort with whatever happens is one of the results of these daily, hourly, and moment to moment practices. 

The very same practice I used to scoff at and ignore, thinking that more bullish effort on my part was the answer and nothing else would do…

It is liberating to imagine a life where no matter what comes down the highway, I feel equipped to maneuver through, not around, because I no longer have to maneuver at all. The “obstacles” break away becoming opportunity and opportunity creates new life. 

If I am honest, this strikes me as exactly the point of the whole exercise. 

Trying to change a life from that of debilitating fear and anxiety into one of calm acceptance and courage is no easy task. 

At least it has not been in my case.

I must be willing to face the facts; I did not know how to live free of fear and worry. I needed and need help to find new alternatives, and I need to put into practice new ways of addressing daily life. My responsibility to this is active participation in the process. This is the key to any lasting, sustainable, and life altering changes to my psychic and spiritual states from what I can tell.

By God’s grace I have another day…today. And just for today, I’ll pray more and give more to others than I did yesterday. 

Perhaps this will allow me one more 24 hour reprieve. 

Amen

David Lewry

 Wow… I can hardly believe it. I roll the
words around on my tongue when I am alone and sitting quietly listening to the
river flow by and it seems like a dream… “9 years, 9 freaking years… by the
grace of God indeed.” 

For some reason it seems impossible that so
much time has passed and so little in the same breath. It feels like I have
lived a whole new life in that short spittle of time…probably because in some
ways I have in so many ways. 

I try and look in the mirror today… there
was a time when I might glance at the reflection and look straight through it
for fear of what I might see, what I might recognize or how it would make me
feel to see anything at all. 

Today the looks are brief and seemingly
more objective; I am getting hair where no hair existed before, my eyes are a
bit heavier in my skull, and my skin looks a bit tougher than I
remember.

 I still do not like to take too long a look
however, but today I notice the absence of fear and the presence of recognition
and acceptance. Something I rarely if ever grasped in days long passed. There
just seems to be less reason to check things out these days and more reason to
smile, nod, and give thanks that everything seems to be in working order. 
 
I am extremely grateful for that
fact…

 Grateful for much that once never occurred
to me as a blessing, but in my selfish ways struck me as a right or
entitlement…how things have changed…how God has changed
  everything.

 I remember the discomfort I felt in every
situation when I first stepped into this new world; the alcohol and drugs
leaving my system in those early days left an impression that I hope lasts me a
lifetime. I recall feeling like my skin was burning, freezing, and tearing
sometimes all in the same instant, the sweat soaking my mattress as I detoxed a
little more every day, the frantic pace of my thoughts, and constant swift,
shifting of emotions as the physical detox pressed on through the mental and
psychological…and then I remember it getting worse once the physical symptoms
fully subsided. 

I kept thinking, it should be better now,
it should be much better… finding some semblance of serenity in the fact that at
least I wasn’t sweating constantly and freezing all at once while manically
thinking of depressed emotions. While being bombarded with those wicked memories
and nightmares. 

There were tiny victories in those early
days and I held on to each like a drowning man grabs for the life boat even
though he is only able to hold on for minutes, sometimes seconds at a time
because fatigue is real and the grip just fails. You hold on just long enough to
take a breath before being pulled under once more, breathing shorter and shorter
with each passing moment…or so it
seemed.

 The voices freaked me out, but no more than
the night terrors, which lasted well into the second year. Of course they
lessoned in frequency as time wore on, but I never got used to them. Each time
they came it was like the first time all over again and I was paralyzed with
fear, guilt and regret. 

Why guilt and regret you may be asking? 
 
Well in my case with each night terror came
the flooding of memories from years and deeds gone by. At times the vividness of
these memories caused me to wake and question whether I had consumed again and
had been involved in the behaviors earlier that night. 
 
Whether those men who took my childhood
away were lingering in the kitchen or the other room, hiding and waiting until I
was vulnerable again…in the beginning everything rushed upon me like it wasn’t
20 years ago, but 20 seconds…

 Thank God for being able to retrace my
steps with a relatively clear mind after a few long, dragging moments of
terrifying panic and muttered cursing. Then cleaning up the sweat and laying a
towel down on top of the sheets… 

After speaking initially to a doctor about
the symptoms I was experiencing, it was suggested I consider medication. I
considered it of course because I was almost certain that I had developed some
type of severe mental illness from the years of drug and alcohol abuse in
combination with whatever trauma I had suffered early as a child. 
 
Thank God again for the dark and dingy
anonymous meeting rooms I was able to attend where I was able to listen and hear
people who told similar versions of my story. I may have jumped on the
medication train as fast as I could and ridden it for as long as I was allowed
otherwise.

 Of course I did not drink the Cool Aid
immediately upon walking through those doors so of course I suffered accordingly
for my constant internal resistance and disobedience to the kind suggestions
provided to me free of charge. 

I learned quickly in these rooms to keep
quiet and listen unless you were relatively certain that you knew something
helpful if not altogether true. Besides I had no information to give people who
had remained sober using this method for years counting into the 40’s. 
 
My initial sharing consisted of short
blurts about the obvious struggles I had which related to other people’s but not
much more and certainly not about the proper way to work their program because I
was not doing much of a job in my own
life.

 I heard that if I did not drink or use
between meeting attendance that I would not get drunk or high… I hung on to that
simple yet profound statement as though it was the only truth I had ever heard.
Honestly up until that point it was the only truth I had ever heard about the
problem I was facing.

 I made so many mistakes in the early years
I cannot even recall all of them with accuracy in such a short missive, suffice
to say that a good deal of my behaviors ceased once the chemicals were gone…not
because I was a better person all of a sudden, but because they simply no longer
made any sense.

 There was a suggestion to avoid
relationships (opposite or same sex romantic) for the first year; I did not
listen and in fact I am not even certain my brain actually allowed me to hear
that one. They suggested not to make any major life changes in the first year;
new jobs, new house, major moves, et cetera. I ignored or conveniently forgot
that one as well. 

And I suffered the consequences of not
listening to my elders in those moments; those which I suddenly began to realize
were the same consequences I would always receive if I continued to live a life
based on selfishness and devoid of
  patience.

 The poor decisions did not cause me to
drink or use drugs; they did not cause me instantly to lose my family,
apartment, car, career, or my physical health. What they caused was the
extension of emotional, spiritual, and mental anguish beyond what I could safely
express in many given moments. 

That was life lived the way I always had
before I sobered up…only now there was no numbing agent. That is what I was
experiencing every time I swallowed or smoked something to calm my nerves; I did
not outwardly show or internally comprehend what was happening exactly because I
had gotten into the habit of numbing so it never seemed strange or out of
place.

 Ignorance was blissful…for a time.

 The early years in recovery taught me that in fact I had no concept whatever of what hell I had been putting myself through on any level.


I was cognizant of behaviors and some
surface thoughts, but I was unaware of the intricate nature of the spider web my
subconscious mind had created in order to keep me in the dark.

 In order to follow my disease to its
natural end…which of course is death.

 …and deeply unaware of how powerful my ego
had become…capable of creating reasoning and excuses that my own mind could not
unravel by the time I sobered up. 

Between my third and fourth years of
sobriety, having resisted and fought the majority of time and concepts, I found
myself sitting all alone in a room contemplating what many have described as
“The bottle, the bullet, or the book...”

 In the spans of those short but self-made
difficult years, I had behaved on the one hand much differently than the person
I knew as David. On the other hand my behavior regarding sex and selfishness had
escalated to such a degree that I wondered how sober I really was. 
 
…The bottle, the bullet, or the book…

 Now, I truly believe everything happens for
a reason so today I look back with no regrets, but trust me when I say, “there
must have been an easier way from the start…and I am sure it has everything to
do with being thorough.” 

The amazing gifts of living purely in the
self are many; a handsome dose of self-pity mixed with an angry arrogance, a
constant fluctuation from mania to depression, the repetitive state of
instability and the list goes on… this has been my experience at any
rate.

 Stability was a pipe dream.

 Serenity, a word scribbled in books and on walls in basements all over the planet.

 Definitely not something I imagined to be true…despite people’s claims to the contrary…

 So I sat one night, on the ledge of the terrible hole I had dug and contemplated which direction to go… the bottle, the bullet or the gun… and for the first time in a long while I asked for help. It
was not the kind of asking a sane person might do, it was the type us desperate
sorts blurt out amidst terrible weeping, wracked with guilt to a power we barely
believe in let alone understand.

 Come to think of it, it was not so much
asking as it was throwing myself at the mercy of this God entity, or at the
time, empty space, crying, “I cannot go on like this, what am I supposed to do?”
Eyes closed tightly, the images of suicide and taking a drink flashing through
my mind…the words repeating, bouncing off the walls of my mind…”what am I
supposed to do?” 

Somehow I fell asleep and when I woke, I
proceeded to go to a meeting for the first time in weeks, maybe months. Someone
had heard my begging through the darkness and betrayal of my own thoughts;
something managing the light at the end of the tunnel.

 For the first time I really felt the
connection to something much larger than myself for longer than a few seconds.
Obviously it is difficult to explain the sensation beyond knowing deep inside
your being that everything was under control and that in fact everything would
be ok…

 I felt better than I had in months even though feeling better meant feeling like a
smaller bag of shit might. I re-entered the process with what felt like a new chance.
 I knew I had to start doing the work as it was laid out and although that meant I
 would have to straighten out the mess I made, I set out later that day to begin with a
colleague of mine. 

What I had paid lip service towards needed
to be done now. The old fear of dying if I went back out did not have the same
power over me it seemed and I needed something beyond fear to keep me sober. I
knew instinctively a drink meant death, but there was that sad part of me which
did not care.

 As the days passed into weeks, it was amazing what started to happen…change. 

I no longer felt ok about my dishonesty or my selfishness. The rationalization for it had
evaporated by working through the prescribed solution. My eyes, which I had thought
were completely open, actually began to open for the first time.

 I did not feel fantastic, I felt relief and
that was good enough. I felt like I had to live, like I wanted to live more than
anything and that if I was to live it would have to be on terms other than my
own.

 My life was not instantly perfect nor has
it become so, but at that point any change which caused me to start looking upon
the world with hope and a small semblance of faith was monumental. 
 
Even this minute psychic change led me to  be repulsed by the idea of both suicide and
relapse.

 Thank you God. 

  I was woefully, or so I thought, unaware as
to what God was or how the whole thing worked, but I knew then there was
something far greater than I at work in the universe. Far beyond my intellect,
this force moved in a soft voice, watching in hopes that we might reach our
individual potentials like a loving parent might with their children. 
 
This knowledge washed over me as the wind
brushed my cheeks, the river flowed before me, and off in the distance to the
west, I saw the beautiful Rocky Mountains standing tall, clear as day. 
 
Shortly after my fourth sober birthday, the
light started finding cracks upon cracks to seep into my consciousness… although
some changes began to take shape rapidly, the wholesale changes to certain
behaviors did not start immediately. I found myself floundering more often than
not some days, but what had taken shape was a desire to be accountable to my
fellow human beings and with that came a sense of responsibility for my
actions.

 I cannot fully express the impact this all
had on me, but to say that the world started to make more sense and not cause me
to constantly fight or find a way out would be simplistic yet somewhat
accurate.

 Then towards the middle of that fourth year
an elder looked at me one morning and said, “rule 62 Davey…” I stared at him,
laughed because I had no idea what he was talking about and thought maybe he was
just making shit up to make me laugh for a
change…

 “What’s rule 62,” I asked.

 “Don’t take yourself too damn seriously,
buddy,” he smiled and laughed, “you’re wound so tight you’re about to blow up…”
he said with a grin and a chuckle. 

Although I was unsure what the hell he
found so funny, I laughed, thought about a response as several ran through my
head and said, “You know what, you’re absolutely right man, I do need to lighten
the fuck up…” 

He smiled and nodded, “you’ll have a much
easier time if you do…” 

That was another light bulb.

 God, speaking through people moments and I
started down a path of learning how to lighten up. I figured if there was a God,
and I was pretty certain there was, He probably would not mind if I lightened up
a bit… 

I thought about it quite a lot… then I
sought some advice and was told that letting go and letting God would help with
this lightening up business…so I sought advice on how to do that…the answer was
simple. 

Learn to pray more.

 Learn to serve more.

I would learn to worry less.

 And I will let go as a by-product of these things.

 So I did. I turned what was daily prayer
into several times a day prayer and avoiding service work into being open and
willing to do whatever I could for others struggling with my illness. The
results were many, but the most obvious one to me was the softening of my heart
by God towards self and others. 

Which of course meant I was starting to lighten up… 

I was told when someone upsets you, as
people sometimes do, to pray for them and continue praying until the poison of
bitterness and resentment is no longer present. I began trying it with zeal; I
was tired by the constant running of vengeance and revenge in my head every time
someone disagreed with me or said something negative about me. 
 
Son of a bitch! 
 
It started to work!

I started to experience less and less
mental anguish about things I could neither control nor change. It was as though
my body, mind and spirit started to enter the flow and the resistance was
slipping away.

 What a relief…

 As I have said, I was desperate enough to
do almost anything and everything that was suggested to me in order to live.
Hence my previous “not interested…or no thank you…” became “absolutely and sure
will…” 

The simple act of becoming open and willing
seemed to make the world and my connection to it wide open, liberating and vast
versus the old closed and imprisoning one I had come to know…there was a freedom
I had never felt at any point in my previous life. 
 
Thank you God.

 It was not as though I had constructed the
previous world without reason; like many others in my situation; being closed
off from people, life, and reality somehow felt safer after all that had
happened and all that I had done in reaction to it. The larger the issue, the
larger the wall I had built and the more time and effort with God it would take
to smash through the granite and metal…

 But of course some of those circumstances
leave a lingering and often hidden pattern of behavior, thought, and emotion
long after they have passed. In some cases, long after they have been faced and
allegedly dealt with. 

There is something to be said about
engaging in this process for the long haul not the short term. Of course some
things can be addressed, dealt with, and moved from much easier than others. 
 
The trick of course is letting time show us
which ones are which.

 I say this is tricky because most of us
find ourselves in quite the hurry to be better all at once upon recognition of
the alleged issue…unfortunately this is not the general case, at least for
myself and those I have been blessed to encounter along the path. It is much
more common for us to whittle away at things while the master sculpture does His
thing…

 One of the amazing things about this
process has been watching as it works even if a person does not believe in
anything resembling a higher power. If their higher power becomes the process,
change is imminent. 

The scariest thing is to watch an outright
belligerent denial of anything and everything that is contrary to what I want to
believe…not only can I relate to the pain and anger this leaves in us, but I can
see the increased desire to escape these feelings as time wears
on.

 It was not the lack of belief which pushed
me away; it was essentially the lack of willingness and an open mind. For when
my mind closes, I become angry towards anything and everything not in agreement
with my own views and ideas. 

When I am angry I am more selfish than in
any other emotional state… and selfishness is what brought me back to the brink.
Selflessness is essentially what pulled me from the fire. And honestly it was
not my own selflessness either…

 It was that, which was held so honestly by
others; those who gave and gave of themselves and in most cases they did not
even recognize they were giving. They simply did what selfless people do and
kept being there giving. They walked me through the darkness with their presence
and quiet, helpful wisdom.

 I am forever grateful to each of them;
there is no doubt in my mind that without their kind, tolerance of me I would
not be sitting here typing this now. 

From this dark moment I started to see just
how often God had done all of the walking, carrying me on His shoulders. That in
fact He had done this when I was in my deepest denial of Him in my mind yet all
the while holding Him secretly and tightly in my heart. For as much as I argued
and denied His presence, power, and concern intellectually, there was always a
sense that something was beyond my ability to
see.

 I not only fought with this internal,
seemingly innate spiritual wisdom but I cherished the idea of creating the world
around me as I saw fit by drinking and using according to my imagined
fantastical ideas. Early on I continued to think I could construct the world
around me just as before, despite al of the evidence to the
contrary…

 …but slowly then, as the dark began to lift
I recognized there was no further argument. My attempts at control,
manipulation, and bargaining were useless against the wisdom which had always
existed.

 There was indeed a God and I was indeed not Him…

 I would love to tell you that with this
internal awareness came a wonderful description of what God was and exactly how
He worked…but that would be absolutely absurd. Unless of course you are like me
and can understand the only description that made and still makes any sense
whatsoever; God is everything.

 This is what started to turn the grinder off. 

This tiny phrase, which I found by
“accident” in our literature; “God is everything or God is nothing…” 
 
The worm had turned…and the darkness has
faded ever so steadily since those moments some years ago now. I did not fight
then with God and His existence; now I recognized that the fight was and always
had been with self. That bloody “I” which constantly stood fast and in the way
of any lasting change which was
  required.

 There were no targets outside of me; no
them or they any longer, who were out to get to me. It was only “I” who wanted
to make me suffer and what I needed to let go of were those parts of me which
caused the inability to connect to God and my fellows. 
 
Those parts of me which alienated and kept
me a prisoner of my own sick mind…of course I had to be able to see that in fact
my mind was where the sickness began and in no way can a sick mind cure
itself.

 What a mind bender that was at first…

 I wish I could say that everything was easy
from that moment on, but that simply would not be true…however, from that
awakening life did start to become simpler. The normal decisions, which at one
point may have caused me a lot of stress, confusion, and a whole lot of
rationalization began to require simple
  honesty.

 It was clear that honesty was the basis for
a spiritual life; making the choice to be honest with myself and to others about
myself as best I could in any given moment. The most interesting result of this
was forgetting whatever may be out of joint in someone else and keeping my side
of the street as clean as possible gradually became the
norm…

 Along with prayer, working through the
written process, and service work there are catalytic points along the way I
must participate in if I want to experience the whole benefit of the program. It
was not enough for me to sit back and be a bystander hoping everything would be
ok without making those different and often difficult choices. 
 
I was faced with three such choices; each
of which instinctively seemed important for the direction of my life and they
all came within the spans of 3 and a half years. 
 
I made the choice of being honest in each
of these pivotal points; not because I felt incredibly comfortable with the
consequences or because I am such a moral mountain, but because by God’s grace I
had a deep knowledge that everything was well under control and would be
ok.

 It was God’s presence in my life which
allowed me to move forward from each of those places with the kind of faith I
had never known possible. But with every choice, the foundation was being laid
by God to trust more and more and surrender even more of
myself.

 There came this inner whisper, which did
not dictate but gently suggest a direction to go. From the whisper and the
slightest step towards truth came the human representatives of God, who mostly
were unaware of the decisions I had to make. 
 
Each of them provided the strength I would
need whether they believed in God or not, they acted as representatives for Him.
I had no doubt inside and made the choices I would not have made otherwise…the
consequences seemed too harsh, too irreversible, and too obvious for me to
believe on my own I would have made the same choices. 
 
I lost friends and I lost jobs…and in each
situation it was the absolute right thing to do. It is always regrettable to
lose friends and injure people, but in no way shape or form were anyone’s
intentions or motives based out of spite. We all were doing the best we could in
those moments and despite the severity of some of these events I leave
everything to God as I am not the
judge.

 What is will always stand as exactly what
should be; regardless of whether I agree with it, want it, or have any control
over it… that is where faith has brought me. To a place where “It is what it is”
and this phrase says everything I will ever need to know on any given
day.

 Acceptance IS the answer to all of my problems today…

 The realization or actualization of this
small turn of phrase has brought me yet another kind of freedom I had not
imagined possible. I do my part to the best of my ability and at the day’s end,
I may be completely at odds with the outcome yet there is a profound peace given
me when I recognize that “it is exactly what it is” and could not have been
anything else. 

Most of you probably understand this deeply
and for that I am grateful, as I only began to grasp it in my 36th
year on this planet. The good news is that God has shown me, through other
people mostly, and not a God of any religion really but the universal power in
all things, how to build faith and continue in this life with something more
sustainable than all of the power or energy I could possibly conceive and
muster.

 This faith has worked when all else fails;
thinking back now, 9 years in, I am taken aback by how much energy I wasted
trying to control every part of my life when every outcome existed as it was
regardless. The time frames simply adjusted depending on my exertion of force
and will; the more forceful, outcomes were expedient and more indifferent I
became, the outcomes waited for me like a looming thunder cloud. 
 
Funny how even though I understand this, my
mind continues to get twisted up on how all of this is even possible; the only
answer I have today…faith. 

Whether it was a relationship or job or
whatever the fuck…all the control I tried to exert never kept anything from
reaching its natural  end…some
might say, “but what if you had learned to let go sooner and believe; would the
outcome have been the same?” 

I agree with the possibility of different
outcome…but then the process would have been altered for me long before those
situations arose and in that case my path would not have been the same that I am
on therefore would have been someone else’s
altogether…

 I know; the intellectual arguments go well
beyond the simplistic I have offered, but intellectual arguments for me are as
important as whether or not I have eggs or cereal for breakfast. This process
has taken a big giant dump on the action of wasted argument, instead replacing
them with spiritual pursuits that often disappear as you discuss them in any
form.

 This has become some serious next level
shit for me and there are days when I wonder what has happened to me…but because
the outcomes appear to be for the betterment of those around me, I just continue
to trust that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be…it is what it is
man… it is what it is.

 I wish I have engaged perfectly in all of
my relationships with people, but that has not been the case. I have failed and
quite often. Unfortunately that means I have hurt others in the process of
trying to figure out what the hell to do in this area of my
life.

 Although the level of destruction has
become smaller, I have not been happy about continuing to hurt others, as my
true nature is not to cause harm in any way. At least I feel that is my true
nature, so it pains me, not because I feel pity for myself, but because I have
caused others pain in a sometimes blind attempt to do
better.

 Unfortunately I have become all to accustom
to the sensation of failure in relationships with members of the opposite sex so
that self-pity does not get the chance to settle in. I have tried to become more
and more honest in these relationships because at the least I can do that, but
honesty without compassion is brutality and that has not worked. 
 
I recognize that I have absolutely no
control over the outcomes of relationships but for my side of things. There were
times through the past couple years where I allowed myself to live in denial and
thus affected the other people involved. Where I was so self-absorbed trying to
be understood that I completely failed to understand. There was denial of what I
needed perhaps, but more so denial of what I found acceptable to me and from me
in terms of relating to others.

 There was an old part of me holding on for
dear life and I did not recognize it until I completed another set of steps a
few months ago…

 …from the 5th step I wandered
out feeling rather numb, but also content. It had been far too long since I had
sat down and wrote out a set of steps and I knew it as soon as I sat to write
out the step 4, which at first I thought would be short. I started and I just
kept writing.

 The old and ancient part was in respects to
relationships and sex and issues I had imagined were resolved in earlier sets of
steps and counseling. Truth be told, all of the work I had previously simply set
the stage for a larger layer of the onion to get peeled. Through the wonderful
spiritual advisor who heard my 5th step came God’s gentle voice
telling me it was ok to be exactly as I am. For the true person I am is not
harmful, angry, and does not live in fear… the true self was being revealed to
me one day at a time and that indeed I had caused damage which I am responsible
for there was hope.

 And hope is what I needed…what I need.

 As I walked and worked, prayed and
meditated for the next couple of weeks; I started to see some definite changes
which needed to be made…

 There were so many people, wonderful in
their own right, who I stayed connected too in order to continue living my
ancient way of selfishness and comfort that I needed to part ways from. Slowly I
felt God pulling me away emotionally and spiritually; if not for my sake, then
certainly for theirs. I felt the need for the illusion of safety they had
brought me through the years slip away like smoke into the night’s sky and
finally vanish. 

In my prayers I had asked, over and over
again, for God to show me what He wanted me to do and in the same prayer I would
whisper “whatever you want for me God, I want to do, if I am not willing today,
may You make me willing for I wish only to do Your will…” 
 
…and the grip that had been clenched around
my neck started to loosen. I could feel it, faintly at first, and then wholesale
in other moments when faith was strong.

 Today it may not always make sense and it
definitely is not what I had planned, thank God, as the limits I had put on
myself were far shorter than a limitless future with the God of my
understanding. Yet there is something comforting in not knowing today and simply
trusting or trying to trust that the process is unfolding just as it needs to
unfold…

 …of course any missive shorter than a
novel, trying to summarize 9 years will inevitably fall short due to space and
time. I attempt to punch this out in time for the anniversary date of both my
sobriety and my grandfather’s date of passing; August 22, 2004. I cannot
however, leave out some items which have crept steadily to the forefront as I
worked through the pages here…

 In the beginning I lost a lot of
friendships I thought would last and although I struggled to let go of the
relationships I had with those people, gradually I surrendered and chose the
path I am now on regardless of what it may have meant. It was not that the
people were flawed; in fact many of them are marvelous individuals and most were
much better off without me hanging around being nuts. 
 
It was simply a matter of moving forward so
that each of us could grow in our own directions. At least that was how it
seemed as time passed; once the dust settled and I recognized my limitations
with the old ideas in terms of incorporating new
ones.

 I came in and I only had to change one
thing…everything. 

What did I have to do to accomplish this? 
 
Surrender and do whatever it took not to
pick up a drink or a drug. I had surrendered even though I fancied myself an
argumentative cuss. The levee broke when I walked through those doors 9 years
ago and in my weakness God carried me despite my
arguments.

 That is the God I have come to know…a
loving creator which is everything all at once. All He seems to ask of me is to
participate in the process and try to do better than my last…. By Your grace I
go God, thank You.

 When I sat teetering on the edge of sanity
three or so years in, Dominic was there. The only friend, who had been with me
from my drinking and using days who I still kept in regular contact and
association. 

He listened through every bit of my
insanity and his friendship never wavered. I am sure there were moments he
thought better of our relationship but he was always there. By God’s grace my
using and drinking life did not cross over to him and I as I would surely be a
lonely man, much worse for wear than I am today without
him…

 There are always too many people to
remember thanking each of them, but there are a few I would be remiss to leave
out because their impact has been so
great…

 Natasha, who gave me so much support in
every aspect of my life and made it possible to not only visit the mountains as
often I could get away for 4 straight years, but was always making my life
easier in so many ways. I am blessed to call her one of my best friends today.
There is no doubt that she is one of those few sincerely kind people you meet in
your life who is kind for no better reason than it is her nature. Simply put,
she is one of the good ones and my life is enhanced by her presence in it. Thank
you, Natasha. 

Of course, there is Tara, who made my books
and writing a reality when I had all but given up. Who constantly kept my head
in the game with her attention, friendship, and inquisitive nature; Tara is one
of the most selfless people I have ever met and without a doubt her strength and
tenacity towards me pushed me forward when it seemed like there was no reason to
keep going. Thank you, Tara.

 To all of the people I am blessed to call
friends today, and surprisingly there are many more than I would have dreamt, I
hope that my presence in your life is one of goodness and hope. I pray that I am
able to provide even half of the support and love that you all have given to
me.

 There are countless anonymous people who
have helped shaped my recovery thus far and to each of you, I am indebted. I
pray and hope that I can be as selfless and generous with what I have been
given, as each of you has been with me. Thank you all. 
 
And to my family, wow…there are no words to
describe the incredible blessing of a life I have today without acknowledging
the foundation of this life that is given by each of you, every day. My heart is
filled with love, hope and faith because of your love, hope and faith through
the years before and after August 22, 2004. My hope is that in this life,
however many days remain, I am the kind of man you feel proud to call your
brother, your son, and your uncle.

    May God continue to bless each and every
    one of you and may His abiding peace and love follow you throughout your days. 
    Amen.
 
Thank you, 
David Lewry

It is not every day I get to use “Vexations” as a title for anything and the very enunciation of the word causes absolute delight in my soul! However, it may not be the most suitable title for this by the end, as my hope is to turn vexation into mild musing and observation. 

As usual the best place to start is wherever the hell the tape worm tells me; it is quite the undertaking these days…

I started to say that it has been difficult to write, but the truth is it has been difficult to do anything the past couple of weeks… besides working with others. That appears to be exactly as it was described early on; the best way to get out of yourself and remain on the beam. 

It is also true that sometimes we can lose the sense of where we are standing while helping others find their way through the darkened pathways, hidden nooks and tricky crannies… thank God for the people in my life to remind me of the things I need to keep moving forward.

It has been a while since a mental malaise like this has set in and although it will pass and there have been flickers of wonderful beauty wrapped neatly within the fog, I do not necessarily enjoy the moment any more than someone else might.

By the grace of God it’s nowhere near as bad as I have felt through the years… progress not perfection. What a true statement, if I have ever heard one.

The past few weeks have been heavy and sad and eventually the weight and meaning caught up to me. The majority of circumstances was beyond my control and involved other people and their sufferings, but that does not mean I do not feel them creeping around in the back of my brain and heart.

I recognized when each friend began to slowly slip into their undertow and recognized as immediately how helpless I was to do anything but pray for them and offer suggestions when they asked. 

Beyond that, like everyone else in their lives, I am forced to sit back and watch the difficulties unfold before them. Even knowing the potential “next steps” for each of them, should their current paths continue unchallenged by their willingness and surrender there is nothing any of us can do.

Pray and hope.

It is like watching someone drown from the shore while having your ankles shackled deep into the earth; you pull at the chains and yell as loudly as you can, trying to teach through experience how to find freedom from that particular trap. 

I am painfully aware of how debilitating this disease truly is…

This funk began with the passing of a friend and simply stretched out in slow motion from that moment. However, even prior to that moment it had begun…one event interconnected to each other. The truth is, it is ceaseless and the beginning was most likely long before my recognition or awareness took place.

Regardless, I sat at his memorial prayer service wondering the usual “why him and not me” bullshit while knowing this question could not be answered in this life. I shook it loose from my brain and instead I tried to focus on prayer for his family and friends.

His death shook me like those before him, but worse somehow.

It was like the chain of deaths and relapse over the previous months and years had accumulated into a catastrophic moment causing the brain to finally catch up with what was happening all around us. It was suffocating. At first it was imperceptible but gradually the pieces of this macabre puzzle started to flutter into place and cause a complete shutdown of the system.

He was 32 and it is tragedy; before him it was a 19 year old, 20 year old, 24 year old, and a 43 year old. All taken by alcoholism and drug addiction within months of one another; these were only the ones I had known by name…

I believe in hope and cultivating faith through prayer and action. Having been in the position of sitting near, talking with, and listening to the families who have lost their loved ones to this disease; I cannot lie and say that faith and hope in those moments came from or through me. When I could feel God’s presence it was always through those family members whether they were aware or not or had faith or none at all…

From my friend’s passing I watched as one friend, then another, fell prey to the cunning nature of our powerful disease.

Some went back into the active world where the probability of survival gets closer to zero with each drink or drug they take. While others floundered and pushed the envelope of sobriety with the same reckless abandon as though they had taken mass quantities of their favorite chemical. Those of us who have found even a short amount of sober time know this can be a tenuous ledge to walk along on the best of days.

I hope and I pray for each of them and am in waiting should they seek me out at some point in the journey. This does not mean I am immune to feeling the sense of dread, as time passes and I watch them drift further and further out to sea.

And just as the others seemed to settle in to their chaos…

I watched as I drifted towards an old pattern. I had two options really; I could dig in and fight the current, which inevitably leads to more pain than is necessary or I could surrender and float my way free by doing the very logical things I have been taught to do.

By the grace of God, surrender feels much easier today. It was a quick trip to be sure and although it lasted days instead of weeks, that does not mean I made it out unscathed. It simply means I was able to avoid the old collection of calamity and disaster until I found myself in a teachable position once again.

But for the grace of God I go.

Under no circumstances do I imagine or profess myself a perfect character of recovery or sobriety; I fight for control over my world regularly. 

The saving grace has been the amazing teachers around me and God making me willing to listen, as they patiently show me how effective and practical prayer and surrender can be. If not for these amazing people, perhaps my foray into an old pattern would have lasted longer and potentially brought me back into the drink and drug. 

Thank You God; in Your grace I go… 

On a completely different note and one that is more along the lines of a humorous observation. The last few weeks have reintroduced me to the modern atheist and their condemnation and judgment of the spiritual path. I say this is somewhat humorous, but I recognize the potentially dubious nature of any stance containing bitterness and contempt in an attempt to remain sober and also find that ever elusive serenity as we do.

I have to be honest here of course, as I said to the individuals along the way; I did not sober up and immediately believe in anything other than man’s power to control his or her environment. What I had to endure in those early years of struggle because of lingering bitterness, intellectual contempt, and unwillingness to move beyond my old ideas of God was in no way pleasant.

In fact I had been able to control certain and specific behaviors and thoughts for short periods of time, which only served to convince me that in fact I could do it all on my own…until the bottom fell out and it did for me, each and every time. Once again I found myself sitting in those dark bedrooms holding my head in shaky hands and wondering where it all went so wrong when my resolve was so strong but hours before…and this was in sobriety even though it sounds bloody familiar to life with drinking and using.

The repeated frustration over these continuous self-induced catastrophes found me teetering on the brink of relapse on more than one occasion. And beyond the risk of relapse, it found my normal daily state of mind, body and soul in a state of hostility and agitation.

God, I needed no God and I did not know peace despite the chemicals being long since passed through my system…

To make matters worse and contrary to what I tried to believe; I was not unique in my brilliant arguments against or my anger towards this brand new idea of spiritual awakening, connection, and reliance.

I was simply one in a long line of individuals trying desperately to hold on to the world I once believed was real. As painful and difficult as my old beliefs and ideas made my life, I remained obstinate in my refusals and rejections of this God idea. To say I was skeptical would be less than a mild understatement…

I was that person who judged and scorned God based on what I had seen in religion and from that place of judgment and scorn I looked upon the people in the world with those same eyes. It took me years to accept the realities I have today. My intellect was such and the ancient pains were so deep within my system I did not even recognize that I was defiant of something which would inevitably save my life.

Looking back, and the well intentioned souls of recent weeks have helped with that enormously, I can see that my contempt directly related to my already monumental struggles and pain that are perfectly normal in early sobriety.

When I limped in to sobriety; I was judgmental, condemning, and terminally unique in every way. I had absolutely no faith or love for anything and the only belief I had was the loathing and deep contempt for self. 

I found it difficult to put faith in the meetings I attended because they were full of people I had pre-judged and condemned in the way I normally did without understanding fully what I was doing. You could look me in the face and say how judgmental I was being and I would deny it because of how intricately my Ego had woven the lies.

The self, centered in my Ego, caused each and every character defect I carried with me to blossom and flourish within the ignorance I lived… we cannot know what we do not know. And we cannot learn if we believe we already know. It is by God’s grace that I remain sober and have been given the opportunities to continue to learn.

I wondered, listening to these men and women talk, how a smart guy like me could have been so blind to not see that all of my judgment and condemnation of things I did not like simply continued to keep me blind and sick. Not to mention how I had acted exactly like the church and its people I was condemning.

Thank You God for every new day You give; to learn and relearn what I may have missed in previous days. Thank You God for every person You put in the path… 

May you all stay long enough to know what it is you are destined to know and to become who you are destined to become, whatever that may be. May your hearts be filled with love and your minds be filled with peace and understanding. 

May God bless you all, 

David Lewry 

When I sat finishing up the Pathway manual in early December, 2011 I had no idea what waited for me around the corner in 2012… 

I had left a job with a treatment center in October, 2011; took a job in a women’s shelter and left there four weeks later. I hit the wall one too many times with agencies, which seemed to be heading in a direction I could not follow. 

God gave me acceptance of the facts and opened the doors to another path; one I could not see while banging my head against that old familiar wall.

I was invigorated when I hit the crisp air that November after my final hour at the women’s shelter. I did not even look back or wonder what the hell I was going to do; something deep inside of me understood that no matter how hard things might get, God had it all under control. 

The old pang of fear tried to creep up my spine and nestle into the back of my brain, so I lowered my head and prayed. After a few minutes, a smile replaced the anxiety and I drove off. That was over twelve months ago now and life has evolved into something I could never have dreamt…taking one small step after another in the dark and completely trusting for the first time in my life.

I suppose it was fitting that 2011 ended with me falling in love…

It was a shot out of the dark, a bullet in the head, and a serious kick to my nervous system because I had slowly started to believe that I could not feel that way about someone again. It seemed, prior to that first kiss with Selina, that all of my passion had been redirected and that part of me had ceased to be.

Late in the summer of 2011 I made my peace with the potential life without a significant other. I was not sad; in fact there was a serenity which came in that understanding. There was acceptance and it was felt throughout my entire being. When I thought of it, I simply shrugged my shoulders and gave way to whatever God wanted from me in this life.

Even though the circumstances with Selina were slightly mired in controversy, as they sometimes can be, the fact remains solid like a memory etched in a cave wall. I felt the overpowering sensation of loving someone and of being loved by them as well.

Some people think and others will say that it was not love because we are no longer together or that it was far too brief or maybe because of our individual defects of character; to those people I simply smile and understand that they may not have ever felt anything quite like it. And then I bow my head and pray that one day they will be blessed in such a way.

I had never seen it between us before that moment when we sat across the breakfast table, staring into each other’s eyes. We had known each other for over seven years, but that morning I felt all systems shut down, restart, and then sing like a hummingbird every time she looked into me.

And for the next two and half months her kiss, the scent of her, the touch of her whisper, and the feel of her skin sustained me…  for something to burn so intensely, I imagined the breakup would be bloody. However, we did not end horribly at all; we sat down and talked like two adults for about ten minutes and then we walked away.

It was the most mature split I had ever been a part of. The strangest things start to happen when you treat the person you loved as though you did in fact love them, despite knowing it is over. I am grateful for that moment just as I am for my time with her leading up to it.

I regret nothing of the time we had or of the time thereafter when it felt as though a heavy cloud had settled into my brain and heart. When other people happened to be around, the edges had been dulled and I somehow remained free of their prying words and jabs.

She was a true gift; I could not see how dark the spot in my heart had gotten until some light was shed upon it. I did not realize how far away from giving myself to another person I truly came. She was a light then and she still is; not in the sense of waiting for our time to come again for I cannot imagine that being the case.

No, she awoke something in me; desire, free of fear and darkness while being full of liberated independence and faith. Even though, I have walked in a slight fog since our breakup, the light has not faded out. I can feel it running through my veins and there is hope in a part of me that felt hopeless for a long time.

I have been blessed to encounter some incredible women, who remind me simply by their presence that all is not lost. This is not sexual or physical in any way, but of a spiritual matter altogether. It occurs to me now, as I write, that when I can muster the courage for surrender, this flickering light might one day turn into something else. Until then however, I find comfort in acceptance; that it is what it is and no matter how difficult or confusing it may get…

…it is ok because God has everything under control.

This past year has brought so many blessings that I am certain to leave something out. It is not because I do not value each one nor is it because I fancy these blessings are rewards for some perceived good work on my behalf. God performs miracles with His grace; if I got what I deserved, I would not be here. It is more a matter of the sheer volume of blessings on my ever extending gratitude list, which I have not fully caught up with yet.

I am blessed for the wonderful family God has placed me in. I watch them all in wondered amazement and continually am reminded of what I have been given. I am grateful beyond a few simple words. That may take more time and a few pages to try and sort through, but suffice to say, they are indeed the blood which courses through me.

It is much the same when I think of my friends; the true friends who are always here, those who God placed in my life for all matter and purpose, who keep me alive and living in hope. I have no doubt that without the few close friends and supporters I have, my life would look completely different today and I am certain it would not be pretty.

I can only hope that I enhance the lives of both family and friends in some manner reflective of how deeply I love and appreciate them.

I have to mention and it is no small placement in the list of gratitude to be sure, but there are moments when I still do not believe it… the day in late winter 2012 when I rounded a corner and walked head first into a long lost love, once thought dead. 

This was one of those days when the universe shook and things never quite settled down the same again.

Her face caught in the fading light and my mind went silent and numb instantly upon recognition. She had died. I had grieved years ago and her death had become a part of my history yet there she was; smiling, crying, and staring into me just as she used to do.

Wow, I will have to sort through that one in a different way, at a different place and time; I simply do not have the energy for that tonight. The witching hour approaches and I promised myself I would have this short recount of 2012 done by 1201 AM January 1, 2013.

Huh hummm… 

There are some intangible blessings which have come; I say intangible because they continue to evolve.

They are belief, faith and understanding. 

A much stronger belief in and idea of God; expanded and blown far past any notion of God I had ever conceived of. It is not of a bitter, aging, far away God but one of patience, understanding, and never ending love.

The process seems to be working.

From the point of belief, faith has solidified through following the new direction as it gets laid out in front of me one day at a time. 

When I pray, seek counsel, and provide service an understanding has given way. I am a part of something far beyond me and although I am but a small part of it, I am equally vital as the next man or woman in the whole.

I am eternally grateful to my Creator; for without belief, faith, and understanding I do not see the other blessings as being possible…

It was a leap to be with Selina and it made as much sense logically, as it did for me to walk out those doors at the women’s shelter into the realm of potential unemployment. That is the funny thing when you believe; when you act in faith despite the fear, which brings itself from the depths of your soul…

The gift is a stronger faith in spite of fear not the absence of it.

There is no doubt in my mind or heart that God has a plan and in His plan, all things will be exactly as they should be. 

Whether I like it or not. 

This walk of faith is the most difficult one I have taken, but in my experience thus far it has been the only walk which creates a lasting effect of light and love on my entire being.

I am far from perfect in any way and I often get caught in behaviors I am not proud of. I turn constantly and completely to prayer trying to surrender more fully each time to God; that through Him I may find myself walking more closely to the path He wishes for me.

God’s transforming power is remarkable and the full extent is impossible for me to know. However, seeing glimpses of what He wants me to see has only served to strengthen my resolve for a life of faith and spiritual deliverance over one of fear and material selfishness.

Despite occasional doubts about my own worth and function, I have no doubt that where God guides, God provides.

Work has become an extension of my dreaming all these years and rarely feels like work. 

For the first time in a long while, if ever, I feel as though I am exactly where I am supposed to be. There are moments when I engage in tasks and duties that I am not comfortable doing, but even then a part of me understands they are exactly what I am supposed to do.

If it is of service to my fellows, then it is of service to God.

Therefore I simply do the best that I can when asked.

The understanding of this perhaps is the greatest blessing of all; that I am willing to be willing to do whatever God wants me to do.

By God’s grace I go... 

May you all have a blessed 2013.

Thank you, 

David Lewry 

A Pathway to Freedom… a year in review

By December 12, 2011 “A Pathway to Freedom” was published and in print with the first group being prepped to start January of 2012.

The writing of the program was a side project of mine for the two previous years; what I really needed however, was the support of family and friends and six weeks of planning and writing to put it together.

The idea began when I took 2010 off work to write. I had the time to attend more meetings than usual, volunteer counseling services, as well as participate in literature studies associated to certain theories of recovery from alcohol and drug addiction.

On their own, the independent study groups appeared helpful and informative, but one thing I noticed was a lack of adjoining information from outside sources. If there were outside theories introduced, it was in a basic and specific way only in so far that the information presented would lend credibility to the main theory under review.

In almost every case when this “support” information was included, it had been altered to fit in to the original intent of the study. I say in almost every case because some of these literature studies did not acknowledge other theories at all as being potentially suitable for programs of recovery.

Upon further investigation however, it was not the theories so much as the presenters, who lacked openness, understanding, and awareness. I do not believe such things were done in malice, but the end result remains the same; the view being described was narrow.

The most troubling thing is how desperate individuals seeking recovery become when over and over again they attempt the same “narrow road” only to hit the same walls repeatedly with very little offered by way of alternatives. They often believe there is only one way to get and stay sober based on the information they are receiving, whether it is from one source or another. 

In my travels individuals were rarely directed to incorporate recovery models, instead they were generally told that it is either or.

This is troubling because some of these people are no longer present… their constant frustration and failure inevitably led them to our ultimate bottom, which of course is death. I don’t blame anyone for this, as the mere thought of blame is anti-climactic and irresponsible; however I certainly recognized my own need to broaden my approach to service delivery. 

Hence, A Pathway to Freedom was laid to paper 12 months ago. I wanted to do the best I could to ensure that at the least, I would keep an open mind to all manner of approaches, theories, and ideas.

I tried to ensure that my own ideas remained flexible and open, remembering that what worked for me after exhausting nearly every other avenue, may not work for others. 

I also needed to remember that what actually worked for me was a combination of theories and approaches from the start until present day; there is no wasted information, practical knowledge, or life experience once the final blend came together and God revealed the value of them all.

I did not shrug off everything I had learned up until that point of surrender into a twelve step method. The twelve steps are such that one can bring all manner of theories, as they work the steps to develop a very holistic one day at a time life in recovery.

This of course does not mean that A Pathway to Freedom has no solid core of information, but what the actual practice of the group work has taught me through the past twelve months is far different from what I had learned elsewhere… 

When I sat down to write the manual, I heard a constant and steady voice telling me to be flexible; always lending a sense of freedom to allow people to move the learning according to their need. The manual is simply a guide, one that is quite often the seed necessary to inspire individuals to move in the direction their Higher Power sees fit to take them.

Having been a part of this beautiful process for the past twelve months has shown me many things of course, but one thing which stands out to me as I write this; the information evolves as the group participants change and evolve each and every month.

Although the basis is a spiritual approach to the twelve step model of recovery, the practical application is far more complex, holistic, and ever changing. The result has been extraordinary and all due to God’s presence at every step of the way. 

Through the twelve months of groups; the participants have ranged from individuals struggling with their own recoveries, family members of people in addiction, and colleagues wanting to learn more about the disease of alcoholism and addiction from a wide range of human services departments.

The participants report to me that they are pushed in ways that whether happy or sad, joyful or angry, they each recognize that nothing will ever be the same again once they leave. 

They have identified that it is truly faith, which pushes them through the long days of emotional and intellectual upheaval. The faith they speak of is not always a faith in God, but it becomes a faith in the process… the process that they begin to inherently understand as an opportunity to a different life; one free of their individual prisons. 

This recognition the members of the groups discuss is not isolated to those struggling with addictions; the truth is, many of us are hurting and wanting answers to grow beyond and with the pain. For those members, who come free of addiction, they’ve identified the wonderfully open nature of not only the twelve steps but of the very practical application of spiritual principles in their own lives. 

I will say that each group takes its toll on me as well; I find that I am touched in all areas of my being by the end of the weekend and that I am better off for the opportunity to be in the presence of such amazing spirits. 

Watching people become more like the people they want to be has convinced me we are on the right path; not only in the Pathway groups, but at Central United Church as a whole. 

Thank you God for the opportunities to minister in whatever way You choose.

And of course witnessing the light of hope return to people’s eyes, as we sit close together for three days is an incredible sight; one that I would not trade for anything else I have experienced. It is the reminder to me that God is constantly at work and one hundred percent in control of everything. 

If there was ever a way in which I could bear witness to the unending love, power, and transforming energy of God it is through the glimmering hope in the eyes of my brothers and sisters. 

May God bless you all on whichever path you choose… when in doubt, act in love, for there seems no better way to live. 

Thank you, 

David Lewry 

I don’t know where to start…the keys feel  slightly foreign.

All I know is the pressure has built like a tumor  in the brain; the days go by and everything feels just fine then bam! 

One day there’s a pain punishing you from the frontal lobe like you’ve been shot in the head. I gathered steam and followed the avalanche down the mountain side finally crashing to the valley floor, as I lay in bed unable to sleep at 130 in the morning. Thousands of words floating through me like warm rivers…finally I smiled, shrugged and just got up. 

I lugged the now heavy laptop into the living room, switched it on and stared at the empty screen for a few minutes before the words started coming back to me. It has been a busy few months of work and the energy it takes to sit down to click-clack the keys to a point of satisfaction simply was not present. 

There is no frustration, just the simple realization that I have avoided the machine for what feels like years. It is far too long to stay away when it was the feel of the keys, which kept me alive through many thick moments that stretched into whole episodes of a lifetime.

My racing yet calm mind is the evidence that nothing whatsoever satisfies the blood, the brain, and the heart like digging in to see whatever there is to see when the mud is cleared away and the bottom is finally present…the first step is always prayer, then some deep slow breathing, and lastly keeping everything shut off for even just a short while to let the dust settle. The end result is always some kind of movement; the pausing and prayer sets the stage for the proper direction to start walking…

I have to go back a bit, as I often forget just how far away from this point in a spiritual journey I really was. This process has taken time to develop; the first five years in recovery seem to have been the tenderizing phase by own will, which brought me to a point of surrender where I was willing to enter the next phase. 

The next three years in the process took me far beyond the precipice of belief into the vast and beautiful valley of faith where I find myself today. This was not an act of “will” on my part, but through the action of practice, doing the work necessary, and continually giving everything to God.

The last action is the trickiest part for me; it is tricky because the ego convinces me I have already done this. Through constant prayer I have been brought to my knees and a brand new understanding every day of what it actually means to do give “everything” to Him.

Approximately 3 months ago, I neared the shores of being broke and I drifted in silence towards the jagged rocks and undertow. I knew I could not simply rely on what I always had because such things were not sustainable therefor I recognized that new directions were necessary.

So God had shifted prayer through the constant and steady action of my practice; they shifted from those of self into something I had never experienced. All around me I heard a voice inside my head asking, “God, whatever You would have me do, I will do…I know You have it all under  control God even though I do not know exactly what You want of me.”

 There was an instant feeling that no matter what came my way, I would do it. If it meant I gave up my apartment and moved into shared accommodations, I would. If it meant I sold my truck and took the bus or walked, I would. Whatever it was going to take, I was willing to do and still am today if it means I can continue to work in the recovery ministry. 

For the first time in my life I understood what it meant to sacrifice the ego to serve the God of my understanding and my fellows. I finally understood why I started on the career path some nineteen years ago when I enrolled in the social work program at Mount Royal University. 

Contrary to my original belief, it was never to climb some ladder, which I had done repeatedly only to toss the successes away  because the value was made arbitrary due to the inept men and women in charge of  such success. The men and women, who live in a distant land of ignorance underlined by greed; the same who treat people, as though they are nothing more than commodities and fodder for funding proposals to build their own empires.

I had enough of towing that line and I knew it; I made a choice over a year ago to live in faith and when my time seemed nearing its end, I had nowhere to go but inside and straight to prayer…and then, as though I could see a bit more clearly what God had been doing all along; it happened. 

I woke up, prayed, sat in silence for a while, and went through my meditation readings before striking out to meet with fellow alcoholics and addicts in hopes that I could share what experience and hope I had accumulated that it may help them find their way.

It was twelve hours or so after I prayed to God, asking Him to show me what He wanted me to do for Him when I felt a different kind of surrender than I had before…when I was offered some extra work as an extension of the Central United Church recovery ministry.

 The work was something I would have declined twenty four hours prior because although it had always seemed noble when I heard about my father doing it and other ministers; I had never imagined it for myself in any situation. 

For some reason, the “what” I was asked to do  feels awkward to describe here but suffice to say it is something I would have normally said, “thanks, but no thanks, I’ll find another way…” However, I could not say no of course; it felt as though God was speaking directly to me through the circumstances. The serendipity of it all was not lost.

As a matter of fact, the thought of declining His invitation brought raucous laughter to the inside of my head and the words in my very sarcastic inside voice rang out, “you asked for God’s will and it appears  you have received it, turning it down is unacceptable and like slapping God in the face…” 

I was not about to do anything even resembling a  slap in that direction; it felt wrong to do that even metaphorically speaking. 

I said yes to the request and although it was a  means to minister, the three months since saying yes have been somewhat  challenging for me. The biggest challenge is the adjustment process, which  apparently never gets really easy, but becomes acceptable at some point? 

I am still waiting for that part to happen, but I  do understand that without question God answers prayers; just not necessarily in  ways we understand or even like for that matter. It is at this point that I need  to focus on the acceptance of life on its terms as opposed to continually  fighting for what I think things should be and for what I “want”.

This is when the thought, “everything happens just as it is supposed too regardless of whether I like it or not or whether it happens as I think it should…” entered and repeated itself through my mind.

At first this idea confused me, but then as I  prayed on the notion, asking for clear direction to do what He wanted, a sense of peace and liberation seeped through my system and I grew steadily calm. The “need for control” fluttered into the atmosphere with any remaining “need to  know” the future and with the absence of this long held illusion a deeper sense  of knowing settled in.

Knowing that God certainly has everything under  ontrol; there was no longer any doubt whether conscious or subconscious. It simply is the truth, as I know it. 

I know for many this idea may have been easy to understand and most may have come to it a lot sooner in their lives, but for me, it honestly struck me like a lightning bolt on the inside of my brain half way through my thirty-eighth year. As I mentioned, I am a late bloomer with this spiritual path, but I am just grateful to be on it now. 

I can barely remember my previous life and how I  coped when I wasn’t high or drunk; I recall only the chaos, anxiety, constant fear, and bewilderment of early sobriety when I so feverishly searched for that anchor people spoke about all the time thinking somehow, some way I still had control. The first five years of my sobriety can attest to this very real struggle. 

Here in this new awareness, there was the absence of crisis amidst the presence of miracle after miracle. God had been doing what  He always did…that which I could never do for myself and of course so much more. 

He was changing me in ways I could not have  imagined prior to twelve months ago. 

There were many nights, laying in the wafting  memory and fevered doubt of my inability to change behaviors; recognizing failed attempt after failed attempt by my will only to hear the light, gentle whisper  of God’s clear voice telling me to surrender my weakness to Him that He may use  me to do His bidding.

 This too brought about a much deeper comprehension, not of what or who God was, but of what He was capable of doing  with all of my imperfections and my strengths. The reality for me is that I have  no better idea as to how to define God today than I did eight years ago, but what has replaced the tired confusion over “what He is” is the absolute knowledge that I do not need to define Him in order to surrender to His power  and watch Him do for me what I could never do for myself.

Prayer is the strongest action I can take; when  my will has brought me to my knees and when my strengths have seemingly brought  me to great heights, it is and always was God lifting me up from those bottoms I  had dug for myself.
Amen.
David Lewry

I wanted to take a few minutes to thank Jamie Derhak of "D.N.A" in Dauphin, Manitoba (Jamesthetailor@hotmail.com Computerized Embroidery, laser engraving and cutting, wood, glass, trophies, awards and more. Silkscreening, vinyl decals and heat transfers), who has agreed to provide nearly $500.00 worth of new clothing and labor (embroidery time and materials) for the His Will drive.

I need to thank Bill Richter of Calgary, Alberta for immediately stepping in with a sizable donation towards the cause! I know Bill very well and his generosity could only be outmatched by his awesome sense of humor and willingness to give back to the community however he can. I'm yet to see a person as happy as Bill is to pour coffee!

I need to thank Tara Aitken from Dauphin, Manitoba for her tireless efforts in putting the drive together and continuously trying to spread the word of His Will in whatever way she can. I could not do this without her help. 

Thank you Tara, Jamie, and Bill! Your contributions help us so much and I am grateful to you and all of the folks like you out there!

David W. Lewry