Bryan, it has been an incredibly crazy hard road that we have walked. I am more in love with you today than yesterday. You have overcome so much by the power of Jesus and your desire to follow Him inspires me. Our kids will never know the “old Bryan”. They will never have to see their daddy so sad that he would drown himself with the bottle. I do not have to worry anymore about you drinking and driving.
Your decision to surrender your addiction has brought peace, love, honor, and contentment to our marriage.
Thank you.
B, I love you. I’m thankful that we are on the same side.
Shayla
#anguishedhearts
The first drink was a Coors Light in a dorm room in central Kansas. Nearly 10 years later, the last drink was a margarita on a catamaran boat off the coast of Cozumel.
Today I celebrate 9 years of being sober. 9 years of victory over something that controlled me for such a long period of time.
I couldn’t see the other side. From my point of view, I was drowning and only hoped that I could make it another day. I knew that I was hurting the one closest to me but I couldn’t stop it. The addiction was too much. I just kept telling myself that I would only have one drink.
I never stopped at just one drink.
I don’t have a problem. This was my response to Shayla every time she would bring up the topic of drinking.
I don’t know why you are so worried. I was a grown man. I could take care of myself and didn’t need someone worrying about me.
All you do is nag and always want to know where I am. I grew tired of lying where I was at and whether or not I had been drinking.
All Shayla wanted to do was love me and I wasn’t letting her. My selfishness and addictive desires built a barrier between the two of us. It was tearing us apart and I felt helpless as the train kept rolling down the tracks towards the dead end. I wanted to stop it but I didn’t know how.
I remember coming home from a day of drinking and the conversation was one we had hundreds of times. Shayla would ask me if I had fun. I would answer with one word; yes. I didn’t want to say much more because my words would become slurred and her disappointment and anger would set in. She asked me a few more questions and the more I talked, the more obvious it was to Shayla just how drunk I really was. She became angry. I became angry…so I left.
I put on a pair of running shoes, without socks, and began running. It was after 11:00 pm on a weekend night so there were a lot of cars on the road. There were no sidewalks where I was running. I had no idea where I was going so I just kept running.
As each car would pass, I thought about jumping into the oncoming traffic to end all of the pain and all of the sorrow.
Shayla didn’t deserve this. She deserved so much more than what I was giving her. I couldn’t see the other side.
[photo by: ANDY JANNING]
The last drink was on January 30, 2008.
I didn’t wake up in the morning wondering if this would be the last day. I didn’t even know if I would be drinking that day. We were on the K-Love Cruise and the day included a snorkeling adventure in Cozumel. To my delight, there was an open bar on the catamaran boat. I took it upon myself to continue to get drinks for us. The reason I did this is because I knew Shayla was counting my drinks. As I went back to get refills, I would take an extra shot of tequila and drink a beer as fast as I could. I would then return to Shayla with two margaritas.
I did this on numerous occasions. I became extremely drunk. I hurt Shayla once again. She was not going join me at the one concert that we had looked forward to the most.
All week we anxiously awaited to see Jeremy Riddle in concert. I would have to go by myself.
Because I was extremely intoxicated, I leaned against a pillar in the small venue to keep from falling down. As Jeremy sat on a bar stool with nothing but an acoustic guitar, I began to listen, truly listen, to the words of the song, Sweetly Broken.
At the cross You beckon me.
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered.
It was in that moment, that I heard Jesus beckon me. To beckon means to encourage someone to come nearer or to follow. Jesus was begging me to come to Him.