Drugs and Alcohol: The Insidious Murderers

* Disclaimer: names are changed for anonymity.*
I worked for almost 20 years at a faith-based residential drug and alcohol rehab. Some entered the program with other addictions, but the majority came in for drugs and alcohol.

I witnessed many being set free from their addictions. Redeemed, restored, and reconciled through the power of God's love. It's a beautiful thing to behold. But, there were tragedies -- those who went back to their old lifestyle. Some died as a result.

I usually incorporate the destruction of substance abuse in my books. Why? Because I've seen the results first hand and it'a not a pretty picture. While some can do the occasional drugs or alcohol, many only need one time to open the pathway to addiction.

Drugs and alcohol kill. I have a son who is an alcoholic. He can't have just one drink and then stop. He is a mean, belligerent, obnoxious drunk. I hate who he becomes while on alcohol. If that was the only reason for me to hate alcohol usage, it would be enough.

During my years working at the rehab, I encountered many whose lives ended because of their addiction. This is not to minimize the miraculous events that took place in those who successfully completed rehab.

There was *Mike. He completed the program and stayed as a worker. He wasn't bad looking, although his hygiene could've used a bit sprucing up. He lacked graceful social skills which played into his interaction with those of the opposite sex. All he wanted was to fall in love, be loved in return, and get married. But his come-on to women usually repelled any prospects. This went on for years until I heard he died from a drug overdose.

Another was *Warren. He completed an affiliate rehab back east and came to Phoenix to work in ours. He always had sad eyes. I pegged him as a lonely soul. After months of working at our facility, Warren was AWOL. Most workers live on the property and Warren had left and not returned. Several staff searched and found him across town in a cheap motel, having spent his time with drugs and prostitutes. They brought him back as a resident in the program, not as a staff member. Grace, mercy, and forgiveness were extended to Warren, but he never lost the look of shame and hopelessness. Within days, he left again and was found dead in a nearby motel with a heroin needle still stuck in his arm.

Drugs kill. Alcohol kills. The euphoric high or sense of well-being you initially get from drugs and alcohol will soon morph into a cruel taskmaster, sucking energy and life from you.

In my almost 20 years of working at the rehab, two individuals who came into the program committed suicide by hanging. One came in on a Friday and hung himself with a belt from the top bunk bed on Saturday. Another had completed the program a couple years prior but had fallen and used drugs a few times. He was a nice guy, a husband, and father involved in church. Despair over his inability to stay clean drove him to end his life.

I could relate more stories, but I think you understand why I base parts of my books -- meaning the characters in my books -- on tough issues. I have witnessed the destruction caused by substance abuse. I wept over each death. My heart broke.

I have also witnessed the power of God's love to set people free. But you can't force anyone to choose life. If you have a loved one or know someone with an addiction problem, encourage them to get help. One of the best resources available is Teen Challenge (not just for teens), a faith-based program.

Overcoming Failure

Reading a book isn’t like watching a movie. You get a visual image in a movie, but in a book, the writer strives to create a visual image for you through words. In a movie, you see facial expressions, what a person looks like, whether it’s day or night. A writer has to tell you those things.

So much can be determined about a person’s state of mind by their body language, the things they say, their facial expressions, and their eyes.

He gave so much away by all the things I just mentioned. It was easy to detect the despair he felt, the hopelessness. He was a co-worker when I worked at Teen Challenge – an international faith-based ministry that helps individuals with drug, alcohol and other life-controlling issues and addictions.

Although I wasn’t one that had, most employees are those who have previously gone through the rehabilitation program. This young man had come to be on staff in Arizona after completing a Teen Challenge back east.

A nice young man, he did very well for awhile. Then he was gone, just took off and no one knew where he was.  After several days, someone reported seeing him in a dive motel across town. Some of our guys went to rescue him. He had fallen – fallen to the lure of prostitutes and drugs. When they brought him back, he was a mess.

Teen Challenge is all about restoring people with God’s help, but this young man could not overcome the shame of his failure. It was a cloak he put on himself. Everyone was showing him love and compassion. I’d pass him several times a day. The slump of his body, his countenance and demeanor said it all. He was ashamed and discouraged. He kept his head hung and wouldn’t look you in the eyes when you spoke to him.

One day I said, “Why are you allowing your failure to beat you down like this? God forgives and restores. Accept that. We all love you. Others here have fallen. You're not the only one.”

Unable to overcome his shame, he left. Weeks later, our director received a phone call from a motel manager up the street. This young man had been found in his room dead from a drug overdose. He had been dead for a few days before they discovered him. I had already gone home for the day when another co-worker called to tell me. I laid my head on the kitchen table and sobbed.

Failure isn’t the final say in our lives unless we allow it to be. Are you discouraged? Do you feel defeated, ashamed, humiliated, desperate, hopeless? God is able to bring hope and joy and peace into your life. It might not be instantaneous, but if you allow Him to help you, it will come. 

There but for the grace of God go any of us. 

Always In His Care

God is always faithful, always at work in the lives of his children. Sometimes we stray from His will and plan for us, but we are never out of His care. If Jesus loves us enough to die for us, then He loves us enough to take care of us. He always, always knows where we’re at and what we’re facing.

While shopping this morning for half price Easter candy – admit it, we love to get a bargain on chocolate – I ran into an old friend, Jim. I met him and his family at church years ago. Their two daughters became friends with my daughters. His wife, Inge, and I became friends. The unique thing about them is that in addition to their two daughters and son, they always had several foster children.

Over the course of time, they adopted one of the foster girls, then within a few years, they adopted another foster child, a boy of different racial background. And they continued to be foster parents.

Inge has suffered with different ailments over the years, a brain tumor, and kidney failure. My daughters and I have stayed in contact with their daughters via Facebook. Last week Inge had a kidney transplant. The miraculous thing is the baby boy they adopted twenty seven years ago was a match, not any of her biological children. A decision years ago to change the life of one child by giving him a permanent family has had an impact this family never imagined. But God knew.

Last week Inge’s daughter and son stopped by to buy my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon for Inge to read while recuperating. When I saw Jim in Fry’s store this morning, I inquired how Inge and their son are doing. Among other things, he said, “Inge loves your book. So you’ve become a writer. That’s great.”

Had he stopped at, “Inge loves your book,” it would’ve been an encouragement. But, in the midst of his own storm with both a wife and son recovering from major surgery and the vigil to see if Inge’s body accepts this kidney, Jim began to speak life into my heart and spirit – about my writing and life in general.

Standing next to tables of marked-down Easter candy in a busy grocery store, tears sprang to my eyes. It felt like Jesus was breathing encouragement to my troubled spirit. You see, I have an alcoholic son. He has managed to destroy everyone and everything in his life. Whenever his name shows on my phone, I groan. He is so messed up and mixed up, it’s heart-wrenching for me to have any contact with him.

I have been praying lately, “God, whatever it takes, do SOMETHING!”  If you think of it, please pray for my son for deliverance, and pray for a speedy recovery for Inge and her son. If God knew twenty-seven years ago that a baby boy would be instrumental in saving his adoptive mother's life, then God knows and cares about whatever you may be facing today.