Thursday, July 21, 2011

1 = 4 + WH

BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ . . . What the hell is that?

BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ . . . Is the noise I hear in the sound track of my dream.

BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ . . . I can’t remember the last time I dreamt such a vicious and terrifying sound.

BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ . . . My eyes pop open, I squint and cover my eyes trying to escape the beam of sunlight that is piercing through the cheap Venetian blinds.  The sun is like a powerful laser that I can not escape.

BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ, BUZZZZZZ . . . There it is again, what a horrible sound, I quickly roll over to see my phone buzzing and vibrating on the edge of the nightstand, precariously close to tipping off the edge and landing on the carpet below.  I grab it, just in time, and quickly silent the noise that is shrieking from its small but incredibly loud speaker.

My God!

What time is it?

I can’t remember the last time that the alarm clock woke me up.

I can’t remember the last time that the sun was creeping through the blinds as I opened my eyes and welcomed the day.

Slowly, it all starts to come back to me.  Slowly, I start to remember the night before.  Quickly, I realize that I did it again.

I let myself drink too much.  My full intention was to drink one beer maybe two at the most but I ended up drinking 4 or 5.  And I drink the good stuff, none of this Budweiser crap that is 4% alcohol, I go for the heavy, tasty beer.  I usually opt for a good IPA which has a burly hoppy taste and a somewhat pungent smell.  Real beer, beer that tastes great, beer with a stout alcohol content of 9% and above.  One of my beers equals two of your beers.  So, I actually drank 8 beers, all in the span of about 3 hours.

I choose not to drink on most occasions because of the way I feel the day after, I always feel defeated and a little broken.  I feel like I have let myself down.  I don’t like trying to recall all of the things that I may have done the night before.  My memories are always skewed and are only really partially there.  I hate having to apologize to friends and acquaintances for my possible behavior.

Most of the time I can control how much I drink and be socially acceptable, even socially delightful, but here lately, more often than not, I am finding that my control and judgment are secondary to my urge to numb.  To numb the pain that I feel on a daily basis, the pain that I feel from the emptiness left inside of me since my wife left.  Most days the pain is controllable and I lean on God for relief but there are some days that I choose to battle it alone.  I mistakenly take God out of the equation and it's on those days that I always, ALWAYS, lose the battle.

I know that I must fully surrender to God in order to move on.  It is the only way that I will receive full healing of the pain of my broken heart.

It’s tough but I’ll get there.

Oh yeah . . . the equation: 
1 Beer turned into 4 Beers + a late night trip to Waffle House.
1 = 4 + WH

James 4:7 (TNIV)
Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

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