Hope for Alcoholics, Addicts, Inmates (and Those Who Love Them)
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
Gary L.
9-16-08
Dear Matt,
I prayed for you this morning.
I need to start at the beginning. I was born November 8, 1939, in Marshfield, Oregon. some years after my birth, the people voted to change the name to Coos Bay. I had a sister who was 19 months older. I have several memories from early childhood as if they happened yesterday. The first was when I was 3. On Sunday morning Mommy and Daddy, as we called them then, would lie in bed and read the newspaper. My sister Shirley and I would join them when we awaoke. We would frolic with them while bouncing on the bed. I still remember the glee and joy I felt. I didn't have a care in the world. I felt loved and was one happy child.
After our fun, we would have breakfast that included hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.
I still remember the beautiful home we lived in. It had an elevator to the basement that was used to bring up firewood for the fireplace. It was a real treat to ride the elevator.
Another vivid memory is of me standing near our driveway eagerly anticipating Daddy's arrival from work. We had a ritual that was the highlight of my day. After he pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, I would run and jump into his arms and we would hug. What a great feeling it was as he held me.
I have strong memories of the first day he didn't come home from workd. I felt great disappointment that day and the days that followed. Mommy would not tell us why he wouldn't come home. I believe that was the first time I felt fear.
One day mom came home with some boxes and began to pack our belongings. I was terrified. Where was Daddy? Why wouldn't he come home? After packing was completed, we moved from our beautiful home into a one-bedroom cottage. Shirley and I clung to each other during that time as we wondered what was happening. this was during World War II. Mom had met a U.S. Navy sailor who she fell in love with and divorced Daddy. There was a new man in our lives.
Our Daddy had visitation rights, but more often than not when he was supposed to pick us up, he would call and cancel. We would be devastated. I have vivid memories of pacing the floor in my Grandma's kitchen waiting for him one day. He never arrived, nor did he call. I went to bed that night and cried myself to sleep. Why hadn't he come or called?
Shirley and I took matters into our own hands several days later. On a Sunday afternoon, we slipped away from Grandma's and took a city bus from North Bend to Coos Bay where his Bowling Alley was. The distance was about 3 miles and we had ridden the bus many times. We walked to the bowling alley from the bus station. I was so excited as I fantasized running and jumping into his arms. He saw us when we entered the bowling alley and a scowl appeared on his face. He immediately went to phone and called Grandma's. She and Mom were frantic with worry. A short while later, we were picked up and taken to Grandma's. I beleive something was broken on the inside of me that day. I never saw or heard from him again until I found him when I was 17 and a member of the U.S. Navy. I often wondered as a child, "What is so awful about me that my Daddy doesn't want anything to do with me?"
Following is part of a meditation by Dale Ryan
If one or both of our parents were some way absent from our formative years, it will be easy for us to imagine that God will leave us as well. We may experience silence and distance. And we may find ourselves longing for Him. Just as it is good for a child to protest the absence of a parent, it is good for us to protest when we experience God's absence. It is good to give voice to our longing for God. It is good to write, pray, or talk about our deep need for God's presence and love. We can call out to Him.
Prayer
OGod, do not be silent. Do not be distant; I miss you when you seem so far away. I long for you to be close. I long to know that you care about me. Nothing can replace you. No one can be God but you. Do not be silent. Do not be distant. Come. Speak. I need you. Amen.
For years, I looked for people to fill a role in my life that only God could fill.
God's blessing to you,
Gary L.
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
When author Gary L. began his recovery journey from alcoholism at age thirty-one, he was emotionally, mentally, and spiritually bankrupt and had been contemplating suicide for about a year. He had everything to live for but was unable to see it. Hopelessness and despair were dark clouds over his life. Early one morning, while in a drunken stupor, he cried out to the God he’d turned his back on at age ten. Gary said later, “Early in recovery I discovered that God had never turned his back on me.”
In Hope for Alcoholics, Addicts, Inmates (and Those Who Love Them), Gary, through a series of letters to a prison inmate, shares his story of recovery and a renewed relationship with God.
Gary’s daily letters to Matt describe the journey out of the darkness into a life he never thought possible. The writings interpret, translate, and synthesize the pain, disillusion, anger, and rebellion of his own early life into a present-tense testimony of praise, glory, and gratitude to God.
Hope for Alcoholics, Addicts, Inmates (and Those Who Love Them) discusses Gary’s experience with the Twelve Steps of AA and how they have influenced his life. Accented with scriptural passages, it shares discoveries he made about himself, God, and life.
About the Author
Gary L. was born in 1939 and married his wife, Patsy, in 1963. They have two married daughters, four grandchildren, and one great-grandchild. His journey of recovery from alcoholism began March 2, 1971.