ASCENT: a LADDER of CHRISTIAN RECOVERY from ADDICTION By
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1 ASCENT: A LADDER OF CHRISTIAN RECOVERY FROM ADDICTION By Peter C. Venable, M.Ed., LPC, LCAS This book describes the process of Christian recovery from substance abuse and addiction. © 2015 Peter C. Venable 2 CONTENTS Introduction 1. The Kingdom 2. Despair 3. Power in Weakness 4. The Church 5. Prayer 6. Meditation 7. Word of God 8. Confession 9. Bondage of Bitterness to Forgiveness 10. Temptation and Vigilance 11. Obedience 12. Addendum on the Addicted Brain 13. Notes 14. Bibliography 15. Acknowledgements 3 INTRODUCTION This book is intended primarily for Christians struggling with substance addiction. Some of you may have had considerable biblical and church experience; some little. You may or may not have had Twelve-Step experiences. Undoubtedly, the title caught your eye, so I assume you have interest in a Christian perspective and solution. In addition, this is also addressed to their families and loved ones by a Christian, who through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, decided to believe and accept Jesus as the Messiah February the 18th, 1978. His power enabled me to eventually cease my addiction to a substance. Furthermore, I have been blessed to have worked over twenty-five years in the addiction field and interacted with thousands of clients and dozens of gifted clinicians. Such has been the genesis of this book. When does addiction begin? The National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) estimate that roughly 50% of those with the disease of alcoholism have a genetic predisposition and vulnerability. While no alcoholic gene has been isolated, it is clear alcoholism runs in families throughout their generations. Then, there are a statistically rare, but tragic minority of moms who drink alcohol during their pregnancy. Even if their babies do not suffer Fetal Alcohol Effects or Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, it is predictable that if they drank alcohol, they would be more susceptible to alcoholism since they absorbed it in utero. The same occurs with smoking or other psychoactive substance us, prescribed or otherwise). Also, social influences are obvious: we learn by copying and imitating peers and the media. Nature and nurture combine. BEGINNINGS In my case, I began by mimicking my parents. I was a 1950’s kid. Mom and dad had an elaborate bar in the den, complete with shelves stocked with liquor and mixers. Cocktail lunches and parties were customary events in this era. Some weekend nights, I knew that it was party time when they had friends over. Usually I had the TV set and a bowl of popcorn all to myself, and as the evening progressed, their conversations crescendoed as alcohol deadened their hearing. Cigarette smoke billowed through the hallway and fogged Bonanza from the television set. 4 One morning I noticed an empty vodka bottle, diamond shaped with a flat base and screw-off cap. Captivated, I concealed it under my bathrobe and sneaked upstairs. Later, I filled it with water, closed my bedroom door, and pretended to get drunk. Really drunk. I drank, swooned and staggered about the bedroom, talked gibberish, and watched myself get drunk in front of my bureau mirror. I had conversations with that drunken kid, holding up the bottle for a toast. It was bottoms up until my bladder swelled proportionally and I peeded profusely. I knew I might not successfully return the bottle to the den wastebasket. So, I figured it would be a good idea to hide it in my toy box. (The bottle did not disappear as I might have imagined). A few nights later, mom picked up my toys at bedtime. I was reading a comic book, and in horror, I recalled that the bottle was—you know where. I prayed for God to temporarily blind her sight, as He did to St. Paul on the road to Damascus. No such Divine intervention occurred. As she lifted the lid to dump a handful of army men, there it was, and she picked it up. “What is this?” she said, puzzled. “Nothing.” Now, in the history of every American child, whenever he or she is in some trouble, such as being caught with a crib sheet, and the teacher begins with the interrogation, whenever asked the “What is this/that?” question, the kid will always respond, “Nothing.” This did not serve to appease mom’s grilling. “What is a liquor bottle doing here?” Now, again in the history of every American child, whenever he or she is in some trouble and interrogated, the other predictable response is a sudden lack of comprehension, a profound bewilderment. “I don’t know.” “Have you been stealing our vodka?” “No,” I denied. “What’s it doing in your toy box?” “I was just playing pretend with Rinny” (my dilapidated raccoon). “Well,” she concluded, “it doesn’t belong here. Don’t do this again.” I heeded her advice. Their drinking continued. Years later, one weekend, dad had a father-to-son talk with 5 me. “Your mom is an alcoholic, you know.” “Huh?” He motioned me to follow him into the kitchen. “Look behind the kitchen window curtain.” Brushing it back, there was a Dixie cup partially filled with a clear brown liquid, which matched their liquor bottles. Nothing more was said about it. Mom was a functional alcoholic: she always fulfilled her parenting and homemaking roles. I had no doubt when she was tipsy, as was dad after their parties. Dad’s drinking progressed, but I will never know the outcome: he died of cancer at forty-four years old, probably smoking related. Alcohol was normal in our household. I first tried to drink beer at eighteen, but it tasted nasty. I was determined, and persisted. I tried Colt 45, which was more agreeable. At that time, one can was my tolerance limit. (I improved with diligent practice in college, and eventually could drink seven-eight cans). In high school a new era arrived: I began to sing in a high school band, The Sorts. They hired me to sing harmonies and beat a tambourine rhythmically (in theory). The drummer enlightened me to the fact that I could not walk and chew gum at the same time. I was to sing at their next job at Christ Church in Millburn New Jersey, which sponsored Friday night dances. My first gig. My God! I trembled as I anticipated standing and singing into a microphone in front of a room full of teenagers! There were college bound students, hoods, and a smattering of pseudo-Beatles. Stage fright? Terror was a better word. That historic evening of my first gig, mom was out. Out of my dilemma, a childhood memory emerged, and I opened her liquor cabinet. There, in all its glory, stood a bottle of her gin, winking at me. I took a mouthful. “Firewater” came to mind from old cowboy shows. It tasted like turpentine mixed with ammonia. Nevertheless, I persisted, and drank about a 1/5 of a bottle. A band member picked me up. “Man, what’d you drink? You reek.” “A little of mom’s gin.” “Did you replace with water?” “Sure,” I lied, “how dumb do you think I am?” The show went on. Inebriated, I sang my first harmony to the Stone’s “It’s All Over 6 Now” and actually grooved with the music and dancing. Alcohol and I became fast friends. It gave me the courage to dance! Three years later, I met my other drug nemeses, which I shall make known in a later chapter. Hence, there is always the addictive interrelationship of the person (genetics, health, history etc.), environment (friends and places) and substance(s) consumed. As we shall examine shortly, all three factors must be present for this disease to develop and destroy the substance consumer. TERMS AND METHODS When “you” is written in this book, it addresses Christians who are misusing or addicted to substances. “We” pertains to both you and me, or Christians universally. At times I will use God’s Hebrew names to challenge our familiarity with “God” and also to remind us that regardless of what He reveals to us via Himself, the Bible, Church, and through others, He is infinite, transcendent, perfect, and Absolute Being. The four most popular one-word biblical names are YHWH (Yahweh) (6,800 times); Elohim (2,600 times); Adonai (439 times); and El (238 times). I also introduce some common Greek terms, for your reference. I am sensitive to gender and strive to use both masculine and feminine pronouns but remain faithful to biblical texts, knowing they include women as well. I know that in recovery through Twelve-Step programs, individuals assume a new identity: “I’m an alcoholic” or “I’m an addict.” Such a dramatic acknowledgment is necessary to shatter the delusion of denial. It is more accurate (which I promote), to say “I’m a recovering alcoholic or addict.” I prefer to categorize you as someone “diseased” with alcoholism or addiction, or having the disease of addiction. (The disease model shall be described shortly). The issue is one of identity—who we really are—which we will explore in Chapter Three’s section, “Identity in Christ.” The point is, does anyone say, “I am a cancer?” No, “I have cancer.” You are not a disease; you are not your disease. You are a child of God. I honor the traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous, and throughout this book I am careful to keep distinct and separate AA recovery from what I describe as Christian recovery; I have been vigilant about keeping AA and Christianity separate entities. AA always wants to be anonymous 7 and autonomous, as they should.