Lights

As I sat across the table from him, I could tell he was in deep thought about what we were reading.

He was internalizing the sentences, thinking back and reflecting on what the author was saying, and seeing the similarities in his own life.

I could see the lights coming on.

I could tell he was starting to see the grave nature of his illness as he read and considered the possibility of the truth written before him.

He's been sleeping on the bench in front of an office building for the last three nights, out in the windy cold. No food, no blankets, no money. Just him and God, vulnerable, but with a tiny flame lit in his heart - a determination to get better in spite of the circumstances.

When I met him three months ago, death was in his eyes. Dark and full of anger and cynicism, he talked as if the world owed him something. His ego was the size of Texas and he lived in the delusion that his life was the only normal one around.

But, here we sat, three months later, reading the words on the pages of the Doctor's Opinion.

My friend has successfully lost everything, and I believe he's finally come to the conclusion that the only solution he has is taking the steps of recovery. He realizes that he's gonna die if he doesn't.

The crazy part is that I get to see him rise from the dead, and get to share the information and the experience I have with alcoholism, and how I stood in his shoes and found a solution - one that works.

It's an amazing thing to watch as someone realizes their own hopeless position, but to know inside that death and misery are not the final answers. Yes, our minds and spirits may have to die, but there is resurrection if we choose to go to any length to let God raise us from the dead.

The writer is writing. The author isn't finished.

Normally, it would seem wrong to take someone to dinner and then drop them back off on the porch where they plan on staying the night. But, I know that God's not through with him. God's been writing this story for a very . . . long . . . time. I'm just a dude who showed up one night. I had no idea I would still even be in the picture. I had no idea that this dude who had rage in his eyes and meth in his bloodstream would one day be asking me to take him through the steps.

I need to keep my eyes, ears, mind, and heart focused on the Writer. As long as I do that, I'll keep my hands out of the direction of the story. I'll stay out of the way, and let the events unfold the way they're supposed to.

As for me, I really needed to work with somebody. It's been too long. I haven't had the chance to see that light come on in someone's eyes for awhile now, and it's so refreshing and energizing to witness.

What God's done for me is this: taken the thing that was once the source of my misery, and transformed it into something that brings life and purpose and healing.

And I believe he's doing the same for my friend.