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MY GET-OUT-OF-JAIL-FREE STORY

Our family was of the Pentecostal faith. We were on-again, off-again churchgoers. My dad considered himself a preacher and would start a small church somewhere, and it would ultimately fail. Then no church for a while, then back to the Lucas Foursquare. Then no church for a time. Then start another church. That was our cycle.

I did not enjoy church when I was a child. I wanted just to grow up and get away from all that.

Well, I did just that. I left home when I was just seventeen years old. I met my wife in high school, and we hit it off right from the start. We both had pretty rocky childhoods and had a lot in common. We married when I turned eighteen, and she was still seventeen. Not a recipe for a long marriage, I know.

The drinking

I, of course, started drinking beer, and guess what? I liked it! I liked it a lot. It took a while, but I became a wild child, drinking and partying. I started hanging out in bars. I had much fun in the early years of my drinking career, but.....as time passed, booze became more and more important to me.

I became aware that the ONLY time I could relax and enjoy ANYTHING was when I was drinking. I did not like to do anything that did not include beer. We could only go to certain restaurants because the others did not sell beer. I had even stopped going fishing. Those who know me know that it is just not like me. I needed to get to the bar. It reached the point that I was drunk for at least six nights per week. It ruined my life, Julie’s life, my son’s life, and other relationships I had outside the bar. 

I would try to cut back and limit myself to just a few a day. It seemed that every time I tried that, it would not last long, and I drank even more. I would try quitting for a week, thinking I could wean myself off. When I fell off the wagon, I would drink even more. I was drinking, on average, a case of beer a day.

The Realization that I was in trouble

I realized I was in big trouble. I could not quit! I did not have booze; booze had me. I was miserable. I realized that booze would cost me my home, my wife, my family, my ability to make a living, and eventually, my life. (The doctor told me I had elevated liver functions-- not good). But I could not find a way out. I was desperate.

I cried out for help.

I would go home at 2:00 a.m. drunk, with tears rolling down my face, thinking, “Well, here I am again. This morning I promised myself I would not do it again today.” This went on month after month.

Booze was not fun anymore.

In desperation, I started asking God (yeah, the same God I could not wait to get away from earlier in life), to help me. As time passed and I became more desperate, my drunken late-night prayers became more frequent and fervent. I had told God I would give Him anything, everything I had, but please take this away. That was my tearful, nightly prayer for a year or so. I hated myself for what I had become.

He heard me, the conversation.

At the bar, I frequented most often, my friends and I would congregate at one end of the bar. It was our group, and we were all “regulars.” One evening I went in, and there were no stools open in the regular patron's corner, so I sat down at the other end of the bar. I was drinking my beer and watching my pals yakking it up in the corner. As I watched, a thought ran through my head, “What a bunch of losers!” As soon as that thought occurred, I heard a voice, “So, what do you think you are?” (This voice was not condescending or mean in nature, a voice I knew cared about me.)

I answered, “Well, I’m certainly not like them, hanging around in bars and sleeping till noon. After all, I always get up in the morning and go to work.”

“You are not only like them,” the voice said, “You are their leader.”

I answered, “Oh, no, you’re not pinning that on me. I do not lead anybody. They are old enough to answer for their own problems.”

The voice said, “Some of these wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here.”

That stunned me because I knew it was true. When you are in that culture, the bar is the meeting place where you would go to meet up with your friends. When one or two were absent, it was not as much fun. I knew I was guilty though I did argue a little more on that point.

After a pause, The Spirit said to me, “I will let you know that you don’t have much more time.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Am I going to die? Is it going to be too late for me to get out of this mess?”

No answer. I asked again. No answer. Finally, I said, “What should I do?” (Kinda sounds like the people Peter was preaching to on the day of Pentecost, doesn’t it?)

The Spirit simply said, “Get up and leave.”

I realized I was conversing with someone much more competent than I was. I immediately set my beer down, picked up my change, and walked out the door. A warm, joyous feeling came over me as I passed the threshold. I realized that I had just been freed! I was so happy that I woke my wife up when I got home and told her she would never see me drunk again.

She was not impressed.

It has been twenty-eight years since that night in June. The thrilling, joyful blessing I received that night has never left me. I will tell anybody this story who will listen.

Jesus told us it was better that He left so we could receive another counselor. He did not say a lesser counselor. When He spoke of the Holy Spirit, He placed him as an equal with himself. Aren’t you glad?

I am one boy who was in foul trouble, and I am very thankful that Jesus offered His own life as payment for what I had done, opening the way for his Spirit to convict and ultimately lead me to salvation.......WHAT A SAVIOR! He entered the prison where I was held captive and threw open the gates so I could walk out of there a free man, giving me a brand-new life. Hallelujah!

I know I will not be thinking about some distant God who offered blanket sacrifices for an obscure group of people. I will remember The One who gave his life so His Spirit could come into my own personal little Hell and rescue me. Thank you, Jesus.

By the way, I am still married to the girl of my dreams and loving Jesus! He does save!

Brad Brown