My Story, Pt. 2

One Friday evening, at home after a long week, I found myself crawling from my bed to the kitchen looking for anything with alcohol.  With no prior knowledge of alcoholism or recovery programs, I dialed the operator and said I needed help.  Instead of 911, I was connected to the local Alcoholics Anonymous hotline.  After explaining to the nice gentleman on the other end of the line that I couldn’t go to a meeting tonight because I was exhausted from my important work week, he laughed and said he’d meet me the next day at a meeting—and then he hung up!  On ME!  I was so angry that I didn’t drink any more that night and I showed up at the meeting the next day just to show him who was in charge.

Those of you who are familiar with Twelve Step programs can imagine the ups and down down downs of getting and staying sober.  That something ‘out there’ became a Higher Power and then God.  I continued to talk (pray?), tried to listen, mostly did the next thing that seemed right and didn’t drink.

One of the slogans is “Fake it ‘til you make it” and I faked it for years.  Sober, involved.  And terrified.

I faked my way into a relationship with a man who was deeply involved with his church, a 1928 Prayer Book Episcopal church with gorgeous stained glass, glorious music, chanting, incense, elaborate ceremony and vestments…  I was hooked.  No more relationship but oh, learning about church and Jesus and God was wonderful.

Not that I really believed any of it (still faking it).  But Christianity connected me to a larger and acceptable community; gave me some new rules to structure a better life and somehow I felt safer.  And so I was baptized, confirmed, and I am now an Episcopal priest (who now believes and isn’t faking much of anything any more).

When I try to figure out how it all happened, my conclusion is “God got me.”

Hey folks!  Several of you have been emailing in response to these blogs. You can respond to these blogs on the blog site.  Click on comments.  That way others can see your thoughts and maybe we can have a conversation.

My Story, pt. 1

I don’t remember a time when I felt safe.  The rules seemed to shift continually and I remember searching for quiet hidden places.

And I remember talking/thinking to whatever/whoever ‘out there’ who could love me and teach me.  I just knew that there was somehow a creator-lover-something beyond what I experienced.

It took a lot of hard years to name God and to begin a relationship of listening and praying.  I was a lost soul (we were called hippies way back then…).   I didn’t know much about right or wrong except by instinct and I tried anything that looked remotely interesting.  Addiction, mostly to (red) wine finally conquered any sense that I had of being in control of my life.

People from my past often describe me as adventurous and courageous.  I traveled a lot, left Ohio and landed in the San Francisco Bay area, and made a financial success of a career in insurance and finance. And I learned to drink better (red) wines in the name of good client relations.

My life looked good—a house in a wealthy suburb, a successful career, nice car, world travel.  Mostly, though, what I remember is fear and emptiness and hopelessness.

And still I ‘talked’ or pleaded to the great whatever that was ‘out there.’

P.S. Hey folks!  Several of you have been emailing in response to these blogs. You can respond to these blogs on the blog site.  Click on comments.  That way others can see your thoughts and maybe we can have a conversation. 

May 6

May 6, 2012

Yesterday was World Labyrinth Day.  I appreciate and enjoy walking a labyrinth, but a celebration is NOT something that would attract my attention—or attendance.  Yet there I was, all day, at the event at St. Francis.

It was a holy and perfect day…  watching church members enjoying the results of their planning and hard work, noticing the changes in them as they’ve grown this past year, walking and talking with a colleague, commandeering a rocking chair in the shade.  Hawks nesting high up in a tree.  Laughter.  Silence.  Prayer.  Sunshine.  Blooming lilies orange and white, colorful flowers against green foliage, trees lush with leaves and wildlife.

The best part of ministry is observing and sharing what I see—watching as others learn to observe and share.  God/Holy Spirit moving, guiding, shaping.