Life with Dad pt 2

After we confronted my dad about his drinking problem, things rapidly began to unravel. Perhaps having been caught gave him the freedom to stop hiding. Maybe he thought that since he had already let everyone down, he might as well stop trying to maintain the image. Really, I have no idea what was going on in my dad's heart and mind in the days following our intervention. All I know is that it brought about the events that would eventually destroy our family beyond the point of reparation.

I was only fourteen at the time so I can't say that I remember exactly when certain events took place. There are probably many things I have forgotten or do not remember with absolute accuracy. But there are certain times throughout my teen years that I am able to recall as though they happened yesterday. Once the truth was out, I quickly began to realize that I couldn't bring my friends around the house until I knew what kind of state dad was going to be in. Not because I feared his actions, but because I feared their reactions. I rather enjoyed being the one who was envied for the money and lifestyle we had. I was perfectly happy allowing everyone to continue thinking my life was perfect.

Regardless of what my friends thought, however, I couldn't run from what was changing inside of me. I was never a perfect Christian kid. I did and said things that I knew were wrong in the name of fitting in. I hated church. I wanted to know God but not as much as I wanted to be popular. When things at home got ugly, I started to see my hope of being well liked and happy begin to slip away. Up until that point I had always placed God on the back burner. He was there if I was desperate, lonely or bored. I knew that if I needed to I could turn back to Him and buy my ticket into heaven. I was okay with Him as long as he didn't interfere with my life. Now that I was the daughter of an alcoholic, I was no longer okay with God. In fact, I didn't understand what my mother's problem was.

Things got bad. She prayed. Things got worse. She prayed harder. All hell broke loose. She held onto her faith. I remember thinking 'what on earth is she doing this for? Doesn't she see that God is not answering her prayers? He doesn't care about her marriage or our lives or our family.' That was really all it took for me to go from lukewarm to freezing cold. No way was I going to have anything to do with a God who couldn't care less that my life was falling apart.

Turning away from God completely gave me some sort of mental license to allow myself to do the things my "God guilt" would never have allowed previously. Before, I would sit on the deck of the pool of sin, just getting my feet wet. Now, I decided it was time to dive in. After all, God didn't seem to honor my mom when she tried to live a holy lifestyle, so why not have some fun.

It was fair to say that I rejected God. Add to that my need to fit in and I was a disaster waiting to happen. I looked at what everyone around me was doing and I took it one step further. At the age of fourteen, I was already living a promiscuous lifestyle. I started smoking, drinking, and experimenting with drugs. I began to lose not only the conviction of breaking God's law, but moral conviction as well. I hurt my friends, I broke my parents' trust. I became a totally different person. To this day, I cannot explain fully why I chose to go that way. I was miserable. The things I was doing in the name of gaining acceptance were really just causing me to lose friends and develop a reputation no young girl wants to be stuck with. But I kept doing it anyway. For 8 years I continued down that path. Had anyone told me that the events of those 8 years would end up with me on my face before God, I would have refused to hear them out.

Nevertheless, my actions during that time, the consequences of those actions, a praying mom and the grace of God turned me from a cold hearted young girl into a redeemed child of God with purpose, hope and faith that any life can be restored.