As I stated in the previous chapter, my utter darkness had turned into the pitch of night. My gambling addiction had become so bad, even to the point where I could no longer keep enough money in my pockets to keep my meth addiction afloat. This left me depressed a lot of the time. I also was not meeting my obligations. I was not able to keep a steady flow of income. I would leave work on my lunch break, if I had twenty dollars to my name, in order to go and try to win something at the casino. I was in such bad shape I took out a title loan on my vehicle, took the money down and played it all back; losing all the money. Now I was in danger of losing my truck and I would have no transportation to get back and forth to work. My dad also asked me to move out of the house I was renting from him, and to move into the house he was living in. He was getting ready to go to Canada on a vacation, and wanted to put the house I was living in on the market, for sale. I know that he was worried about me; I was still out of my mind, but not to the point where I had been before. Never-the-less, I was in bad shape to say the least. I did as he asked me; I got all of my stuff out of the house and moved everything into the house he was living in. I suppose that is when things began to hit home for me. Here I was, thirty-five years old, drug addicted, addicted to gambling, and practically homeless. Guys my age were all married with two or three kids, and here I was starting over with nothing. I moved all of my belongings out of the house, so that we could begin to make repairs and get it on the market. There was nothing left in the house but an old green couch that belonged to my dad. That is where I was sitting, late one night, just about to get up, cut the lights off and go to my dad’s. I had a moment where I experienced intense sorrow and loneliness. I am sure that the Holy Spirit was speaking to me every day, through instances, others, and circumstances, but as far as I was aware, I had not heard from Him in a very long time. I sat on that couch, and thought about my life and how I had ruined it. I could not even afford a cigarette, and had not had anything to eat in days. I had not been to the casino in about a week, because I was out of work. My dad was on vacation, and no one was going to give a gambling junkie any money. I was out of options, not only for gambling or drug money, but also I was out of prospects for even attaining enough money to get some food, or a pack of cigarettes. I felt like crying, but I did not have the emotional strength to produce the tears. I do not know if you can relate to the feeling of utter despair and hopelessness that I was experiencing, but I am betting if you have made it this far into this book that you probably can. That is where I was! I could not see any way out. I would turn to the left and be staring down meth addiction, and the depression that comes about from withdraws. I would look up and there would be alcoholism, rearing its ugly head at me. I looked to the right, out the front window of my dad’s house, and there was my truck. It may not look like much, but I know that it was a gift from God. How often we cannot come to this realization until something is about to be snatched away from us. How easy it was to forsake that little truck when I was flying high, but now that there was a good chance I was going to lose it, it began to take on a whole new significance to me. If I lost it that meant I could no longer work. I had spent the entire time I spent with Jill without having transportation and that hadn’t been all that long ago. I knew how that felt, and all those memories were beginning to rush in at once. It was not just the recent past that was bothering me; it was the entirety of my adult life. I do not have to go through all of it again; it was obvious that I was a lifelong drug addict. It was obvious that I did not have much hope. I think, at least for some of the harder headed and hard hearted of us, this level of brokenness is a necessity. I looked up at the ceiling of that old house and I did two things. I asked God a question; and I told Him the truth. I said:
“Why can I not lead a normal life?!” I had not heard His voice in my spirit, seemingly in forever. It sounded like the whisper of a long lost lover to my spiritual ears. I heard two words that I will never forget:
NO OBDIEDIENCE
Whether that voice in my head was the Lord, or whether it was my own mind does not really matter, because that was the absolute truth. I will always know that was Jesus; I do not care if anyone believes me. If you knew me then and know me now, my life speaks as a testament to the power of the risen Christ. I had tears welling up in my eyes. I told God the truth, and I believe He honored it; I believe He would rather have a confession than lip service, any day. I said:
“Lord, if I had anywhere else to go, that’s where I would go. If I had anyone else to turn to, to ask for help, I’d gladly go to them; but I don’t have anywhere to go, and I don’t have anyone else to turn to. Will you help me?”