Because I drank secretly, I was able to fool people. In fact, I was a respected member of my church and even served as a deacon. And I could point back to the time as a teenager when I had turned my life over to the Lord through the influence of my dad. But our church did not emphasize discipleship or godly living, and as I grew older, I did not grow spiritually.
When I was old enough to enlist, I joined the army. I married and fathered three children. But as a career soldier, I fell prey to the occupational hazard of the military in those years: alcholism. Real men smoked and drank, and I was a real man. After 21 years in the service, I retired and joined a security company. I attained the number 2 position and was responsible for offices across the country. Life should have been great. In the world's eyes I had succeeded. But now, in my hotel room I reflected on my life. A verse I learned as a child penetrated my clouded mind. "For what is a man profited, if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?" (Matthew 16:26) Gaining the world was empty, I was a slave to the bottle. I had even gone to the funeral with a hangover. And now I faced the truth. I had lied to my wife, to myself, and to God. I had tried to clean up my act by sheer will power, and it hadn't worked. I fell to my knees beside the bed, and with tears streaming down my face, I asked God to forgive my failures. I surrendered my life to Him. "I've failed you, Lord," I prayed. "If anything good can come to my life, it has to come from You. I'm willing to renounce drinking today. Give me strength just for today." I got up and did something I had never done before. I took my half bottle of 100 proof vodka and poured it down the toilet.
I went home a different man. But I said nothing to my family and friends. Each morning, I read my Bible and prayed for strength and direction. Within several weeks, I approached each of the officers of my company and confessed that I had been a hypocrite. "I was a Christian," I told them, "But I was living like a heathen." I asked for their forgiveness and told them there would be no more dirty jokes or foul language. They were supportive and honored my new lifestyle.
My wife noticed the difference, too. For years, she believed that one day I would be serving God. So when I suggested, in a few months, that I resign from my job and complete my college degree, she was totally supportive and became my biggest cheerleader. God opened doors I had never anticipated. At 50, I graduated with a degree in elementary education. Eventually, I became a school principal, later, a pastor, and finally, a caretake for my wife until she died of diabetes.
(I finished Jack's story with these thoughts.)
It was September of 1975 when Jack had his "Chicago Experience." For the next 39 years until his death he never had a single drink. I was blessed beyond measure to be his wife for the last 14 of those years, and just as God gave Jack the strength he needed "just for the day," He continues to do for me.
And a couple more thoughts. Jack never got over the amazement of what God did in his life. He couldn't believe God would allow him to be a pastor. He was a transformed man with a big generous heart. In his words, "God changed me from being a taker to a giver." And I will be forever changed because I was part of him too.