"And Never, Until I Did Cry Out"

This morning I had the grateful task of trading sobriety chips, trading 26 for 27. Yes, on July 31, 1989 I took my last drink of alcohol and my last drug of choice, and pleaded with God for help. It's a beautiful chip with the red AA triangle in the center, surrounded by gold sparkle and rim. It has flames of fire and reminds me of the fire of covenants.

A dear friend and member of my High Priests Group has purchased the last several chips for me. At first I objected thinking the cost of a chip is certainly affordable and the least I can do as a reminder of the blessings of a sober life. But the added meaning of someone doing such a thoughtful act of service is icing on the cake, and a reminder of blessings unattainable on my own merits. The chip purchased by another is like the recovery wrought out by my Savior in a garden long ago, and gift wrapped and given to me by His grace. My friend who purchased the chip is like a brother to me, and indeed he is my brother.

This year's chip came in a red cloth bag with a pull tie at the top. This morning I took it out, bag and all, and sat it on my lap as the sacrament was being passed. The Spirit prompted me to think of that little bag dyed in red. Gethsemane gets its name from two Hebrew words meaning "oil press." In ancient times olives were put in mesh cloth bags and crushed and ground between two round stones. The precious olive oil would then be squeezed out the tiny holes of the mesh cloth and would fall into a vat. The olive oil was a reddish-brownish color as it was first squeezed out. The red bag caused me to think of my Redeemer, who bled from every pore and trembled in pain to purchase recovery for me (see D&C 19: 18).

Alcoholics all over the world celebrate sobriety with "birthday chips" like mine. But as I partook of the sacrament today and was reduced to tears of gratitude for a loving Savior, I had to wonder how many recovering addicts would be blessed to partake of the emblems of His sacrifice that purchased newness of life for me and countless others.

With tears of gratitude I thought of the numerous blessings of the Gospel abundantly evident in my life. And thought back on that night 27 years ago after a battle with the enemy. Two weeks of AA meetings had not produced a single day of sobriety, nor had I seen such a thing in the seven years prior.

Sobriety seemed like such a long shot for me. Could I dare to dream of a sober life, let alone ask God for such a miracle? Today's Sunday School lesson covered Alma 36-39, and Alma intimately relates to his sons his own recovery experience. He speaks of being "racked with torment" (Alma 36: 12). A rack was an ancient torture device where the wrists and ankles were tied to wheels, which would then be turned in opposite directions, pulling the body both ways.

My addiction was like that. My body only wanted to be numb to escape the emotional pain. Alma wanted to become "extinct both soul and body" so he wouldn't have to feel anything (Alma 36: 15). Like Alma, I had a starved spirit longing for peace and the comfort and joy of the Spirit, but my body only craved alcohol and relief from the pain--a far cry from the exhilarating rush of those early party days when I was eighteen or nineteen.

Like Alma, I only felt exquisite pain and "never, until I did cry out unto the Lord Jesus Christ for mercy, did I receive a remission of my sins. But behold, I did cry unto him and I did find peace to my soul" (Alma 38: 8).   

I was actually afraid to pray out loud to the god I had invented. I had imagined a stern, punishing god, waiting to zap me at any moment for my terrible crimes against Him. But today, I see my Father as Someone very different.

I could not imagine having a life blessed with His Holy Spirit to comfort, guide, strengthen, and to fill my soul with joy. I could not imagine a sweet wife who would do anything for me (much like my Savior), a sweet daughter, and a wonderful son who tries so hard to do the right thing. I could not imagine the relationship I could have with my mom and dad and family. Nor could I imagine ever having the enlightenment and joy I get from immersing myself in scriptures or pondering on the marvelous works of God.

Like Alma, I wanted to be among the choir of "numberless concourses of angels, in the attitude of singing and praising their God; yea, and my soul did long to be there" (Alma 36: 22).

And then I realized that was what He had wanted to give me for a long time. His patience, mercy and grace overwhelm me. As another friend was explaining earlier today, God really does want everything to work out in the end.