Happy Three-and-a-Half Year Sober-versary To Me!

Here's a crazy thought: I've now spent almost as much time as a legally-able to drink adult off the crazy juice as I did draining bottles.

Wild.

Today marks three and a half years without a sip of alcohol. I stopped writing about it a while back, thinking it a bit silly to keep documenting this part of my journey. Apparently I was wrong. 

The first reason I say that is because of the new clarity that the battle never really ends. Over the last few months, my resolve has been tested time and time again. 

The first big challenge was my international fellowship. Back in the day, my bucket list included drinking beer in Germany, French wine in Paris, Guinness and Jameson in Ireland, etc. Once this amazing trip landed in my lap, I had to deal with the reality of how I was going to handle myself there. I mean, come on. I was in Germany, a country where beer is legitimately cheaper than water most places, and during Oktoberfest, no less! Talk about a challenge! 

Before I left, the organization sent out a preliminary itinerary and seeing a brewery tour on the list was a punch in the gut. I'm not sure why I was surprised, but I was. I met with one of the pastors to run scenarios and try to come up with the best direction. I could argue either side of the issue, as is the tendency of my ENTP personality. While he eventually gave me permission to do the sampling if I was concerned about making a scene in Germany, he asked me one question before letting me leave the office: "What are you going to say when everyone goes to the bar after the tasting?"

Well, snap, crackle and pop. I see what you did there. It would be rather hypocritical to try to pull it both ways. He wanted me to think about it for a couple days and tell him my decision, but I'm a stubborn brat sometimes (ok, a lot of the time), and never did specify. I thought I'd feel it out.

Celebrating Oktoberfest at Alexander Platz.

I was pretty surprised at how supportive the other fellows were when I said I didn't drink. They asked questions, but never pressured me to join them. They were completely fine with me drinking Coke at the bars while they drained steins. During the brewery tasting, I would swirl the amber liquid and smell it like everyone else, then pass my glass to my buddy, Ben, and he'd drink it. We both won.

However, not everyone was so chill. The program director repeatedly tried to pressure me into drinking. It was never a subtle thing, either. From his inability to hide his disgust that I wasn't sampling the beer and asked to not be in pictures with it (so no one got the wrong idea), to constantly insisting that I allow him to buy me a drink, to blathering on that a sip wouldn't hurt, it got pretty uncomfortable. Again, my amazing fellows supported me and tried to divert the attention.

I can't tell you how many times I thought about caving overseas. It's not like anyone would know unless I told them, but I still could not bring myself to follow through. Deep down, I knew that God took that piece away from me for a reason. He set me apart with a purpose, even if that is just explaining how powerful and good He is.

Which brings me to the second reason I'm writing about my sobriety today: not everyone knows my story. I mean, there were 13 other fellows on that trip, plus three people from the organization, and countless contacts throughout those three weeks. They didn't all ask why I was sipping water at the same time. It was a continual retelling of my story and what God did for me to save me from my own stupidity. 

The whole "I'm in ministry school and it's not allowed" answer worked well enough for some. Others could tell there is more to the story and that gave me an opening to share my heart. Even yesterday, one of my newer co-workers asked if I was an alcoholic, so it gave me the chance to say no, it's a way of being obedient to God.

Once people know your story, they help you stick with it. I can't tell you how many times of late I typed the words "I want a drink." Life's been tough. Fortunately for me, I have sober buddies who don't hesitate to call me out. One guy is always supportive on that front. I really have zero business talking to him anymore, period, but sober support is what started our wacky friendship (after this post). He knows more than anyone else what it's like to not drink in our line of work, since he's a little further down the road than me. 

It's just another reminder that the battle isn't over just because you hit a milestone. He's at six years and still celebrates the markers.

Another of my friends fell off the wagon. I could have easily been me, especially lately. Being done with ministry school took the safety net away. I don't have that excuse anymore. I don't have a rule holding me back. It's now all on me. 

The last couple weeks have really tested that thought. It's a weird shift from being half my decision/ half rule, to this is all on my discernment now, especially when you're emotionally drained and hurting. It would be so easy to numb the world with alcohol, but who would I be on the other side of that bottle? Most likely, a person who holds a lot less respect and has less of a voice worth listening to.

So, today, I'm marking a milestone because daggum, the road is rocky and every step forward is a victory. It's not a win because of my own strength, but the Holy Spirit holding that valve closed for me and reminding me of those faces when I'm on the edge. Jesus is the victory.

Legalism Or Life: Questions After Two Years Without Alcohol

Yesterday marked two years since my last drink. Woo! I was pretty entertained to hear that Isaiah Saldivar will be in town on almost the same day I heard him speak two years ago and made the decision that changed my life. I have a feeling it means there is another big step around the corner, but we shall see.

Recently, people have been asking me when I'm going to drink again and haven't been so ok that it's not in my plans. One of my coworkers went so far as to say he was going to slip me some hard orange soda sometime because I said I didn't want to try it. (Yes, I lectured him on how absolutely wrong that idea is.)

This guy also said I was being legalistic by saying no, but I disagree.

During the drinking days.

It's a concept we talked about in Covenant class last quarter: is the rule designed to be oppressive or is it there to bring life? In my case, it's the latter.

The example Pastor Aaron brought up in class is telling little kids that they can't play in the street. The action itself isn't evil. As adults, we know that's meant to keep the child alive and without injury. It's designed to be life, not legalistic.

In starting to write the book, I had to spend some time dredging through my past, and not all of it is pretty. The majority of the ugly, painful stories involved alcohol on some level. If I hadn't been drinking, I probably could've avoided some situations that I now regret. While drinking might not be the worst thing in the world, creating this boundary for myself is meant to keep me from getting hit by a car [insert: distraction] when I'm playing with something unsafe.

My coworker said I'm missing out and limiting my life by this rule. Again, I disagree.

Now.

Have I skipped things because of I don't drink, sure. (But, honestly, what part of being the only sober person at a bachelorette party on a fake holiday where "puke and rally" is the mantra sounds like fun. I love my friends, but I do not handle vomit well. Sorry. Plus, I was cleaning up after a destructive relationship and pictures in a bar would not have looked like I was back on the right path.) That situation isn't every time. I went out to the bars after my friend's wedding just to be with her. I didn't drink, but I still went and the groom spent a solid 30 minutes thanking me for the gesture.



To steal Pastor James' line, I'm "squeezing the day" and living life to the fullness, but I don't need booze to do it now. Honestly, I'm enjoying life more now than I was then, by a long shot. Plus, there is the bonus of being able to be used for God in new ways. Heather said in class this week that you can't have a deep level of compassion for a situation until you've lived it. Conquering a situation opens doors to reach into people's lives. Your victory gives you credibility with those who are still in the battle.

God gives us guidelines so we can interact with Him and others without doing damage, not to limit our fun. Like Pastor Aaron said, "If love is boundary-less, it's not love." I choose to love my relationship with God more than a liquid. I choose to love myself enough to submit to a rule, not out of legalistic desires to be a "good girl." but to protect my future. I've lost friends and missed parties. So what? I'd rather lose those things than be disqualified for my mission.

Sticking With Sobriety After 18 Months Without Alcohol

Here's a sentence I never thought I'd ever write: Today marks 18 months of sobriety.

I never thought I'd write it because I never planned to drink alcohol in the first place. Once I got rolling on the river of booze during my senior year of college, I didn't expect to give it up. It was an easy way to deal with the stress and hurts that happened during my early 20's. (That's another strange thought... I'm not in my early 20's anymore! Eep!) I didn't realize I was self-medicating with alcohol until after I had cut it off.

I don't know if I'm more surprised at how fast this year and a half flew by or that I actually stuck with the decision to give up drinking.

There have been so many nights where all I wanted was a big bottle of Kraken or a six-pack of Boulevard Wheat so I could put the drama into a haze for a while and breathe. This year especially was filled with losses and such painful moments that had I picked up a bottle, it would not have ended well in the slightest. However, not all of the challenges were based on avoiding feelings. Several of my drinking buddies got married and had booze-a-plenty at the receptions, but I made it through sober. There were parties and concerts, but I opted for Dr. Pepper instead. I didn't even crack open the bottle of vodka a friend gave me or one left on my desk by a PR team. I stayed strong.

The questions that came up repeatedly were how and why didn't I give in.

Honestly, there were days when literally the only reason why I didn't was because of the contract I signed as part of the School of Ministry. That was it. I didn't want to break the rules. But then, during the summer and right now, I took some time off from school to rest. That means no more code of conduct, but I have still stayed sober. There is the obvious reason for that, which is I gave it up for God. In that moment at the Encounter Conference, I knew that He was calling me to give it up. I just assumed that the reason was because it's generally viewed as wrong in the Christian community.

Now, I see now that a bigger piece of that reason was to reach people. I've shared my story on stage to a streaming community around the world, through this blog, and in conversations with friends and strangers alike. I know my story has impacted at least two people to give up alcohol as well, and there is a third that I really hope will listen soon. The thought of impacting people's lives like that because I made one decision to follow a calling is a little overwhelming.

Plus, all that exposure keeps you honest. There is this voice in the back of my head reminding me that if I were to drink, I'd be just another hypocritical Christian. I try really hard to not add to that mess. I saw this quote meme online saying something along the lines of "God didn't give you the strength to stand up so you could run back to the thing that knocked you down." Standing strong is a battle, but one I can't afford to lose because I don't want to reflect badly on God and those who serve Him along with me.

The past 18 months have been a challenge, and I'm sure sticking with this in the months ahead will present themselves with similar problems, but it's a challenge I will overcome. I know where my strength comes from.