Fusion

Nine times out of ten, my self will acting on its own impulses will get me into trouble. Add alcohol to that, and my self will is completely out of control.

Two Fridays ago, we'd just finished hiking twelve miles on an extremely difficult climb up the South Rim of the Chisos Mountains. Although the view from the top was breathtaking, my wife had developed an excruciatingly painful urinary tract infection that had her stooping over in pain. Seeing her in that much pain scared me because I didn't know what we would do if she couldn't continue. So, I silently prayed as we went along. I prayed for a doctor to show up. I prayed for her pain to go away. I prayed for help getting to the end of the trail. Not to mention, it was dark, and I've heard these little kitties called mountain lions like to come out when the sun goes down. It seemed like every time I thought we were at the end, another hill popped up out of nowhere. It was frustrating. 

But finally, we did make it to the end. 

But, it wasn't the end. 

Because, the nearest hospital was 100 miles away. 

So, we got directions from the guy at the store and sped off to the hospital. Along the way, as my wife was in agony, the border patrol decided to search our vehicle. They held us for about an hour as they searched for some evidence to use against us. 

Then, as we inched closer to the hospital, the streets began icing over due to the fog and sub-freezing temperatures. So, I had to slow down to about 35 mph. It seemed like the universe was throwing everything in our way to keep us from getting to the dang hospital. 

But, we got there. 

By the time we got out, we were beyond exhausted, probably to the point of delirious.

Neither of us thought it'd be safe to drive all the way back to the park as tired as we were and as bad as the roads were, so we got a hotel for the night. 

And so, when I reserved the room, I told the guy it was just me. I was afraid of having to pay extra for my wife and the baby, so I lied. It was just a little white lie. Everybody else at the hotel had probably done the same thing. 

But all throughout the night, the baby would start crying. 11:00, 1:00, 3:00 . . . and I just couldn't sleep. I was in a perfectly warm bed for the first time in a week. I had a bathroom. I had a heater. But I couldn't sleep. Every time Harley would wake up, the thoughts of lying to the owner of the motel would come up. And for some reason, my conscience wouldn't stay clear about it. 

We'd spent way more money on this trip than we expected, and out of my financial insecurity (or, lack of trusting God), I tried to take a financial shortcut. But in this case, the financial shortcut involved ripping off the business owner, or, stealing from him. 

As far as I can recall, I always told little lies like this one. They came naturally, it seemed. All the times I'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, I always had a lie to back it up or rationalize it or make myself look less stupid to others. 

But for some reason, the lie didn't work this time. 

And so, that next morning, I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette. I knew I had to go talk to the people at the front counter, but I was scared. As I looked out at the country surrounding the hotel, I had a small but peaceful moment. Everything was white with ice. It looked like a winter wonderland. The trees were draped in icicles, the roads were smothered in glass, and the green grass was now glimmering crystal. 

I took a deep breath and took it all in. Perhaps it was the first time on the trip that I'd gotten to actually breathe in the beauty. Perhaps I hadn't let the clean mountain air enter my soul yet. But it was happening then. I felt renewed. Fresh. Ready to do whatever it took to make it right with this hotel owner. 

So, I said a little prayer, walked into the lobby, and stepped up to the front desk. 

My name's Jon Tucker. I just wanted to say that I lied to the man who was working last night about how many people were staying in my room . . .

After I told her how many people were staying in the room, she punched some keys on the computer to see if the rates changed at all. She said the price didn't change, and so I asked her if there was anything else I could do to make it right. She smiled and said not to worry about it.  

It felt good to do the right thing (after doing the wrong thing). It felt good to fess up. It felt good to throw my financial insecurity to the side, and trust God with the results. 

When my self will is acting in its own interest, these little white lies add up. In addition, fear will start making my decisions for me. The possibility of trusting God in whatever situation comes up will take a backseat to my overpowering and shortcut-taking self will. And string up enough days of my self will running the show, and the thought of a drink will turn into a real drink. And one real drink will turn into multiple real drinks. And multiple real drinks will turn into physical, mental, and spiritual oblivion. 

The Big Book says that when I try to carry God's will into all my activities, a sort of spiritual fusion happens. What used to be my will on its own now becomes fused with God's will. The question that once sounded like, How can I best serve me? now turns into How can I best serve Thee?

And isn't it beautiful that we even have the possibility of fusing these two wills together? That we can live and love life? That we can do anything and go anywhere when our will is fused with the will of our higher power?

May you experience the fusion today and go to any length to keep it that way.