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.

Remembering Betty Owens

     Church. Some love it, some hate it, and some are indifferent.

     In 1974 I was a 26 year old mother of five, moving to a new neighborhood. I was broken, flawed, and so shy, I hardly spoke. I hadn’t always been so broken.

     I had been attending Bethel Pentecostal Church of God since I was 14, but that year I decided to attend Victory Assembly of God, a small church closer to home in my new neighborhood. Attending Bethel and Victory were decisions that would be pivotal in my life. At Bethel, I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ for the first time. At Victory, the course of my life was set.

     Betty Owens was the pastor’s wife at Victory. She would become my friend, mentor, and family. Looking back, Betty was flawed and broken too, but she hid it well, having overcome much because of her faith. She took me under her wing, encouraging me to get involved and develop in ministry within the church.

     The church grew and so did I. Betty believed in me and pushed me out of my comfort zone. Whenever I told her I couldn’t do something, she’d say, “Of course you can. I’ll show you and help you.”

     Over my thirty plus years in that church, many things happened. In 1974 my oldest child was 9 and my youngest was 1. My children grew up. I remember Betty during times when we didn’t have enough food, or I couldn’t provide Christmas, or pay for my kids to go to camp. Betty would rally the church to help. I was embarrassed sometimes, and Betty would tell me that’s what church people do.

     Betty was there for me during some of the most difficult times of my life – times when circumstances almost destroyed me. My struggles in a bad marriage. My divorce after 22 years. My 15-year-old daughter having a baby, making me a grandmother at 32. Another daughter giving a baby up for adoption. Another daughter rebelling and leaving home. Betty was my shoulder to cry on, my encourager, and she never failed to pray for me and my children. Or give us a lecture and a piece of her mind.

     Betty loved to laugh and have fun. She was often the instigator whenever our ladies group pulled pranks or got into shenanigans, and I have pictures to prove it. She coordinated all my daughters’ weddings, and Pastor Leroy performed the ceremony. They oversaw many of my grandchildren’s dedications.

     Because of Betty’s and Leroy’s example and support, I have children in ministry today.

     We got older – Betty and I. It happens. Even as her health deteriorated the last several years, she always managed to look beautiful. She was a classy lady. It grieved me to watch Parkinson’s destroy her body. In December of 2016, Betty went home to the Trinity (God, Jesus, Holy Spirit) she had dedicated her life to serve.

     That last week of her life while her children, Becky, Philip, Sheila and I were talking about Betty going to heaven and what would she be do there. I said she would help Jesus set up for the marriage Supper of the Lamb.

    Has your influence made someone a better person? Changed the course of their lives? Brought hope? 
    There will never be another Betty in my life. I can never repay her for all she was to me and my children. But, I, and every one of us, can be a Betty in someone’s life. 

Hope

How many times have you read a book or watched a movie where the villain is described by co-workers or neighbors as, “Quiet, but so likeable, a nice person” – everyone was surprised that hidden inside the person lurked someone completely different.

It hit home this week with the suicide of actor/comedian Robin Williams. I’m not going to discuss the moral issues surrounding what he did. Only God can judge. Often those who laugh the most do so to hide or help cope with the pain within. No one truly knows what goes on inside someone except that person and God.

I love television crime series that deal with profiling people. The upbringing, culture, environment, and care a person receives throughout their lifetime certainly determine much of their behavior.

We all have secrets. We hide wounds. We put on a façade. In my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon the reader starts out disliking, maybe even hating, Jack. He definitely isn’t a likeable person. The second half of the book takes you inside the heart and mind of Jack. The readers finds they now care about him.

What wound are you covering up? Does your spouse do things that hurt you, yet you keep silent about it? Communication is key to success in any relationship.

I suffered for years with deep depression brought on by my circumstances. I was plagued with thoughts of “ending it all.” I just wanted free from the torment. I overcame by my faith in God and surrounded myself with loving, caring people.

Writers, portray the story behind your characters’ behavior. Then, as a Christian writer, point your readers to the hope that is found in Jesus. With all honesty, I wouldn’t be here today if not for Him. 

Attending Writers' Conferences

Ah, writers’ conferences! There seems to be a prolific amount of such things, and as aspiring authors, we are encouraged to attend as many as possible. For the record, I have attended two main conferences and one mini-conference, which was actually more of a workshop, conducted by a major literary agent.

The truth of the matter, at least for me, is that I can’t afford to attend most conferences. The conference fees alone, although reasonable when you consider what’s offered, is hard for people on a budget, but then when you consider the cost of travel (air fare or otherwise), hotel accommodations, meals, etc, it can add up to a hefty chunk of money.

Another truth is – are you ready – writing, or being an author, does not a wealthy person make. Unless, of course, you’re famous – Stephen King, Dean Koontz, James Patterson – or…well, you get my drift. These famous writers actually have their books turned into movies. I mostly read Christian fiction, of which authors I didn’t even mention – my favorites like Francine Rivers, Karen Kingsbury, Ted Dekker, and others – they have done well also.

What about us fledgling wannabe writers who feel we have a story burning in our hearts, a story that God inspired us to write? It is a lonely road to embark on that seems to require more time and money than we may ever get a return on. It’s hard not to struggle with discouragement and doubts.

I attended the FaithWriters Conference this past weekend in Portland, OR. I loved meeting new people, sharing stories, encouraging one another, learning new things. I won an award for an annual contest FaithWriters has, the Page Turner Contest, so perhaps you may be thinking I had a leg-up on some other the other conference attendees. Not so! I sat amongst these lovely people with my usual self-doubts and anxiety regarding if I will ever be recognized as having a gift the world wants to read.

It can, and probably will be, a very lonely road – this journey of writing. You have to ask yourself how badly you want this. If you want it, then don’t give up! Keep walking the path set before you. In the beginning, and throughout, your greatest cheerleader will be God Himself. If He believes in you, then it behooves you to believe in yourself.