Nothing has scared me more than the idea of letting go of control, and yet there came a day when I knew I must let God take control of my life, or else I’d lose it. I’d been very close to losing my life. Too many times to count, in fact. Between the risks I’d taken and the people I’d associated with, I knew I’d flirted with—and even welcomed—the idea of death as a relief from all the chaos and despair. I’d reached that jumping off place where I couldn’t imagine life with alcohol, or life without it. But now, still very early in sobriety, I balked at the thought of turning my will and my life over to the care of the God who had kept me alive in spite of myself.
If you’d asked me, I would’ve tried to convince you that I’d done pretty well for myself. After all, I’d proven my worth in the career of my choice. I’d gotten sober, too, hadn’t I? Well, for a few weeks, anyway. Why did I have to drag God into all this?
In truth, I was pretty sure that turning my will and my life over to Him meant I’d be forced to become a missionary and live in some faraway country. I was careful not to give voice to this fear, of course, but I didn’t have to. My new friends knew very well the fear and trepidation that comes with giving up control.
I remember the woman who shared an experience she had while in treatment. “I told my counselor that I could handle things just fine, and didn’t need any God or any man telling me how to live,” she said. “And then that counselor patted me on the knee and said, ‘There, there, dear. Do I need to remind you that you’re sitting in a treatment center? You’ve done such a great job of handling things yourself so far, now haven’t you?’”
That one stung as it hit home.
But how do I turn my will and my life over to God? I wondered.
I didn’t wonder for long. Others had gone before me and knew what to do. First, they convinced me that a life run on self-will would never get me far—especially since I was spring-loaded to get drunk over every situation or emotion. I desperately wanted to be free of the obsession to drink, and it was driving me mad. The only relief I seemed to find was to keep coming back to those meetings and being around others who had found a peace and a joy I’d never dreamed of—sober.
Although skeptical, I finally admitted I’d probably be better off turning control of my life over to a Power greater than myself—and for me, that Power was God. No doubt about it. Luckily, the more experienced members in my support meetings also shared a prayer with me that had worked for them. It seemed rather formal, but they assured me that I could put it into my own words, so long as I expressed the same sentiment. I was to say that prayer with another person who understood and would stand in as my witness during this life-changing moment.
After a few days, I realized my grace period was running out. I had no other choice. Did I want to live, or did I want to die? I knew I’d soon be drinking if I didn’t keep growing.
Hopeless and helpless, I trembled and struggled to be sincere when I finally took that step of surrender, and I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life. I expressed my complete willingness to have God build and do with me whatever He desired. I asked Him for release from the terrible bondage to selfishness, so that I might better do His will. I even offered myself as a witness to others, allowing Him to show them what He could do with a completely surrendered life. Then I added these words, “May I do Your will always.”
As I finished, I kept my eyes closed, relishing the peaceful feeling that had crept over me during those moments. My friend joined me in recommitting himself to God, as well. Then we both fell silent.
Finally, we opened our eyes, and it seemed like something had changed. Something had shifted. The world looked different, and yet I couldn’t describe what I was feeling. On the way home, I realized what it was. I had been reborn. Born again! The words of 2 Corinthians 5:17 came to mind, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
I was a new creation! All my life I’d wished for a do-over. If only I could do it all over, knowing what I know now, I used to say to myself. And now I could. I could do it all over, using what I’d learned from bitter experience.
A rush of gratitude welled up in me and spilled down my cheeks. I was glad I was driving alone as I sobbed, and laughed, and cried out to God, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Such hope flooded my mind. I was no longer fighting. I had surrendered. I was born again. I believe that the moment we surrender can only be rivaled by the moment we’re baptized into Jesus Christ. In a very real way, I had let Him into my life and asked Him to mold and shape me into the man He’d always wanted me to be.
I will never forget the day I made the decision to live. But much more needed to be done before I experienced complete freedom. Like a business on the verge of bankruptcy, I needed to take stock and survey all the damage I’d done. I needed to make things right with all those I had harmed. The cost would be high. My old way of life had to be forsaken. But for that day, I was confident that God would take me, imperfect, broken, desperate, and willing. He smiled on me, and I felt His presence reassuring me that He was well pleased. As I look back on that day, I know that Heaven rejoiced. The angels sang a higher note and their joy matched the outpouring of love and mercy from my Father’s heart. I have never doubted the sincerity of that moment, and I have never forgotten that mighty grace that flowed into me that day. Throughout the ages, I will never tire of sharing my story of how God saved me and changed me. My life will never be the same.
