White Flag

I am standing in a room of strangers that are supposedly afflicted by the same dreaded disease as me; through big ol’ crocodile tears I blubber out loud (or was it in my head),” I can’t do this without Jose! Then, a short and nosey man without the gift of proper boundaries blurts in my direction:

“Jeeze, let go or be dragged, man.”

Let go? Can I just let go? And someone or something will take over for me? If I just get out of my own way? This “God” everyone talks about seems to help them. But, I guess I will actually have to let go for this to happen. Before that, I will actually have to believe that the damning God of my youth can help me. And why will he help me now if he did not seemingly help me then?

The bottle is my best friend, Senor Jose C., the magical serum drags that dark veil over the uncouth memories. So, without him, I will have to face what’s chased me my entire life. But before I surrender or pretend to surrender with the help of this visual, this fucking white flag I’ll acquire from some this free-spirit surrender loving moron at a Montecito seaside “meeting.” I guess I will have to test this new power out.

So I trudge down the street to Miramar Beach.

I need some perspective on the subject, my thought process on the “God Test” is this: on a normal beach walk, on a good day, I will find at least one rare blue piece of Sea Glass.

So today my test is this: I look up at the heavens and ask God, Hey! If You are real then You will show me lots of blue Sea Glass today.

Upon my first step towards my new faith, I see a yellow piece of glass as it peeks out from under a pile of nat-infested seaweed, but it’s not blue. After another two steps, I find a red marble-shaped glass sanded smooth by the turbulence of the sand and the sea. Three steps later I spot a light violet nugget, the color of twilight, then my favorite, a Chartreuse green, a magnificent old-fashion glass bottle top, its shape perfectly intact. Then, five steps later, I see a magnificent, light-blue-turquoise gem, pressed against a mollusc covered rock. I look down at my hands. I am awestruck by the magnificence of my finds as I hold this handful of jewels, a glittering jewel from the Kingdom of Heaven.

What just happened? I just asked for a great blue piece and received much more! Ok God, You might be able to help me but I am not fully convinced You can handle all of my troubles. You just showed me that if I trust in You the gifts will appear. So here is another test! Let’s see if You pass this one. So, God, I ask You my next question. I want a boyfriend, God. I am lonely. I need someone to help me through this journey. I look out at the sea. Maybe a cute surfer guy? What do you say? Show me a sign and then maybe I will believe You again.

I look to my left and on a berm of sand, I see two plastic legs protruding from the crusty heap. I walk over and pull on them and find G.I. Joe in all his glory, sand-worn and just right for me. Thank you, God, for You know this is all I can handle!

So I take my new found faith out into this world of change and they tell me I am on a “Pink Cloud.” I do feel radiant. And I glow from the inside out as the sunlight of the spirit works through me. Others are attracted to the light and join me on this journey of perpetual freedom. I attend the meetings with the “morons” who help save my life. I live life with an unfamiliar freedom for six and one months shy of seven years until yet once again my faith is broken by the death of my 27-year-old sister who suddenly dies of a brain tumor. The pain is too much for my mind to grasp and my lack of faith leads me to Dr. Smiley the weed doctor, and before I know it I am off and running again. Just one glass of wine with dinner leads to the bottle, which leads to screaming at my husband, to the loss my son’s trust. Now, my broken soul lies on a friend’s kitchen floor and surrenders to a God I’ve learned to believe in and trust once again.

Today, I am two years and four months sober. My unbreakable faith in a God continues to throw life’s little “lessons” and “teachers” my way to make sure I maintain a conscious contact with the Keeper of the Seaside Jewels on my path to this Kingdom of Freedom.

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