Corking the Bottle

"Faith, without works, is dead." Luke was awakened from a deep sleep by his son. "Dad, I smell smoke!" "It must be a bad dream. I don't smell anything. Go back to bed." The son couldn't go back to bed because flames and smoke filled the hall. "Dad! Wake up! The house is on fire!" he called back over his shoulder. Luke stayed in bed and prayed. "God, you know I have faith in you. I love you and you love me. Nothing can happen without your will, as long as my faith is strong. I have great hope and believe in you." The boy escaped safely outside because he took action. Luke coughed, gagged, and was consumed by flames. Moral of the story: Faith, without works, is dead. See also my blog post on March 6.

"What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can faith save him?...You  believe that there is one God.... But do you want to know, O foolish man, that faith, without works, is dead ?" --James 2: 14, 19-20 I wanted a sandwich for lunch today. I prayed for it and, because I feel like I have a close relationship with God, I had faith he would deliver me my sandwich. But no matter how much faith I have, God is no Jimmy John's. I had to rise from my chair, find my keys and wallet, and drive to the store. I told the man at the counter what I wanted, and he gave it to me. I had faith that he would and he did. But I had to take action to get that sandwich. Yes, someone would have delivered it, but that would have taken a phone call. Again, faith, without the work, doesn't put lunch in my belly. Are you praying for sobriety? Keep praying as you walk past the liquor store. Without action -- without attending A.A. meetings, wi...

Happy Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for. One gratitude is, of course, for the gift of sobriety. This is my second sober Thanksgiving since drinking became a problem for me. I was sober other Thanksgivings, but drinking before and after caused problems on those other days. I am thankful for every day I don't drink. I have to be thankful for fear of complacency and relapse. Faith in God brought me to this point and I can never let my faith waver. If you are reading this on Thanksgiving, may God bless you with the joy that comes from sobriety. If you are reading this on one of the other 364 days, give thanks to God for whatever it is you have to be thankful for on this day. Even active drinkers should have a long list of gratitudes. God loves us all the same.

I know them, and you know them too: those bible-thumping, scripture-quoting, righteous-feeling people. Some of them talk the talk without walking the walk. The last time I went to church religiously (pun intended), I became disillusioned when the new pastor, a righteous-feeling married man, resigned in disgrace after an affair with a woman in the church. We've become nauseated by a stream of reports through the years of priests molesting underage boys. Did they think God was napping when they committed these atrocities? I hear a few people at A.A. meetings quoting Big Book passages but doing nothing. Are they living those passages or grandstanding? Cynthia said at my home group meeting that she knew a man who attended A.A. meetings for 20 years, but did nothing for A.A., other members, or his own sobriety. He died drunk. "Faith without works is dead" (Big Book, page 88). The Daily Reflection for February 15 reads: "One of the most important things A.A. has g...

We are getting into the time of year when Mom used to warn I better be good or Santa Claus wouldn't come bring me presents. I don't know if those warnings made me better behaved, but it sure didn't hurt. I was taking no chances. Mom wouldn't lie. Somehow, Santa was at the North Pole making a list and checking it twice, monitoring me all day, and then deciding if I had been a good boy. Something similar happened all year in regard to church. Sunday school teachers, preachers, Bible readings, and parents all warned me I had to be good if I wanted to get into heaven. It wasn't clear if that meant not stealing or murdering, or if picking up my toys made me good enough in God's eye. St. Peter was like Santa, keeping a check list to show to God when I died and appeared at the pearly gates. Could I stay "up there," or would I be sent someplace underground to burn in eternal damnation? Scary stuff, for sure. When I got older and found that Santa didn...

The Bible says, " For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." (Ecclesiastes, 3:1) My season is winter. It's hard for me to run anymore. Or go down steps without a handrail. My daughters are approaching middle age. It's still summer for them, but autumn isn't far away. My hands are stiff with arthritis. Even interesting TV shows put me to sleep. I forget stuff, but I remember when we had no personal computers or cell phones. Or blogs. Yeah, winter is setting in all right. I was in just 32 when the Bangles sang, "Look around. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter." Now I know what that means. But now doesn't have to be the winter of our discontent. (I tinkered with Gloucester's quote from Richard III.) This season has given me a new look at life. I found God, and then He led me to sobriety. That changed everything. I have an opportunity to influence alcoholics and others. I'm pleased w...