This story, the second in the series “Life Lessons,” begins 6 months ago. I was in one of those low-energy troughs, only this was far more pronounced than usual. So much so that I actually made an appointment with my doctor for a checkup.
The good news is that he didn’t see anything really wrong with me, even looking at the blood test he had ordered. Over the next month, my fatigue gradually lessened until I felt nearly normal—well, what passed for normal with me. The doctor surmised I may have had some low-level infection.
I wasn’t as certain that nothing was wrong. I read the blood test myself and it referred to some reading in my liver that was higher than it should have been. Hmmm. The doctor didn’t mention that.
However, even though I didn’t see myself as having a problem with alcohol, I thought this could be a warning sign and I should cut back on my alcohol consumption. After all, we all know there is a relationship between the liver and alcohol.
Both Dave and I set out to cut back. We skipped the wine with dinner but had a nightcap. We didn’t have a plan, just a vague notion of cutting back. Those rules went out the window when we went out to dinner or were with friends.
I noticed that I was really good about this cutting back thing a lot of the time. That, of course, suggests that there were times when I wasn’t. I needed some help and I turned to God. I prayed that he would assist me in resisting.
I have to admit, some of the nudges God gave me were hilarious. As I wandered along my path, I saw lots of billboards he erected along the way. Billboards with notes about “best foods for liver health” and, alternatively, “foods to avoid .” Some of these billboards had buttons to click that would take me to a video. And when I say billboards, I hope you understand that I’m talking about pages I saw on Facebook.
Some of these nudges were really easy to incorporate—like changing a few things in my diet. Others I found just as easy to ignore.
I have come to understand that when you ignore a nudge God gives you, you are in rebellion. I discovered how difficult a place that is.
In the middle of Month Four, we had a lot of our family come visit. The occasion was a concert at Field Hall put on by a group Dave sings with, Peninsula Men’s Gospel Singers. Most of the family had never heard them perform in person before and they came from 3 states plus Central Washington for that purpose and, of course, to spend time with us. It was very exciting to have them here.
I spent a lot of time the afternoon they arrived preparing a charcuterie dinner. I figured that would not require us all to sit down at a certain time. Flexible dining hours. As I was putting some finishing touches on it, my granddaughter (the one working on her doctorate) came to help me assemble the charcuterie. It was great fun working with her. She was terrific and had good ideas.
Dinner was a celebration of being together. Given that we don’t live near each other, this doesn’t happen very often.
The wine flowed liberally. We had two bottles from Camaraderie with the Field Hall label and two from Coppola Winery with a label touting a movie one of my sons had written, “The Argument”. (I always hasten to tell friends that the movie has nothing to do with our family.) All in all, lots of laughter, lots of stories, and plenty of wine.
After I finished cleaning the kitchen, I joined the gang in the living room. By then it was late in the evening and I sat in my favorite chair and had a night cap. Then, evidently, I drifted into sleep. Dave came over to take me to bed, stopping at the bathroom on the way.
That is officially all I remember of that night. I am told that I walked into the bathroom and fell. Well, that’s not quite descriptive enough. I did a faceplant. Neither my hands nor wrists were injured, so I evidently didn’t try to break my fall. Really, I have no memory of the fall or all the blood that covered the floor or the trip to the Emergency Room. There is an account memorialized on MyChart that details what I said during my stay in the ER though I don’t remember any conversations. My son tells me I didn’t know him while in the Emergency Room or riding home (he drove).
I know that between the fall and waking up in the morning I had one conscious thought: “Ok, God, you got my attention.” While I didn’t think I had a drinking problem, God did and needed me to face up to it. So he punched me in the face. He wants me to become more like his child and less worldly.
Let me hasten to add at this point that as gruesome and painful as this sounds, there was no pain involved. A few days later, whiplash showed up with some pain in my neck, but that was very manageable. The goal was to get my attention, not to scar me. Weeks later, people are still commenting on the pain I must have felt. None of that happened with the minor exception of whiplash.
But the effects were a bit gruesome. When I looked in the mirror I saw a portrait of me painted by Picasso or Chagall or anyone else who used technicolor paints. I didn’t leave the house for almost a week. As the bright red, blue and green splotches started to fade, a light brown line ran from the right corner of my mouth and ended in a darker brown pool on my chin. It looked like I was drooling. Of everything that happened, that was the only thing that embarrassed me a little. Drooling? Really?.
Here’s something else that I find equally remarkable: there was no real embarrassment. At least not on my part. This happened in front of a large part of my family. There was no hiding the problem.
One of my grandsons wrote to me a couple weeks later that instead of being embarrassed, as most people would be, he was proud of me that I was taking this as an opportunity to make positive changes in my life. Gotta love that guy a lot (he just finished a cross-country quest for the best barbeque in America).
Since I retired 5 years ago, I have much more time for bible study and introspection. I am very aware of God’s presence. This event taught me that God loves me enough to correct me the way a parent corrects a child.
Several people have asked me if I’ll drink again, if I’ll ever take another drink. Are you kidding me? I don’t want to find out what Level Two of Getting Pili’s Attention might look like. No thanks. I’ll be grateful for this Life Lesson and enjoy sobriety.
In reflecting on this, two passages Paul wrote to the Philippians come to mind. Starting in Philippians 4: 4: “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say, Rejoice!”
I know what you are thinking. You rejoiced when you did a face plant, and a lot of your family witnessed it? Well, not at the moment. I was pretty out of it for the rest of that evening. But as time went by, I realized again how when God executes a plan, he does it for a good purpose. I can rejoice both in this new sobriety and the fact I am mostly undamaged physically. There were many examples of plans going awry during COVID. I would have what I thought was a great plan only to see it crash in flames. In the aftermath of the fall, I could see that God had a better plan and that was cause to rejoice.
But Paul goes on later in the same chapter. “The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
God clearly communicated his message about alcohol to me—it’s over. And that gave me peace. Which led to a cause for thanksgiving. All this exceeds my ability to understand. I have tried to make sense of it here, but now, my choice in response to this Life Lesson is to Rejoice and Give Thanks.
Wow Pili—God works in some pretty bizarre ways!! I actually see His wisdom in having all this happen in front of family. No one will be tempting you with, “go ahead, one glass won’t hurt”. It may not hurt physically but when God says stop, the last thing we need is temptation to disobey. Good for you to be firm in your convictions!