Month: July 2018

I am guilty! One of the residue affects of a long life of addictions is the demeaning sense of self-worth. I am not sure I can blame all my issues with this on addiction or if it is one of those chicken or the egg situations. Did my lack of self-worth come from being an addict or did my addictions stem from a deep-set insecurity from my childhood? I don’t think I have an answer for this.

What I do know is that guilt has been a major factor in my life as long as I can remember. I can say for sure that part of it stemmed from my upbringing as a Catholic in a family where sin was treated like an illness or maybe a plague that was to be avoided at all cost. I still agree with the idea of the avoidance of sin but not for the reasons I was taught as a youth.

Lessons about sin were given from a catechism which had a lot to say about it. There were ‘types’ of sin some more serious than others. There were venial sins and mortal sins. As I remember a venial sin was something that did not entail the damnation of the soul. That would be like telling a fib. Sure, it was lying but not serious enough to keep you out of heaven. Then there were these grievous sins known as mortal. These were the big ones leading to eternal damnation if you did not confess them to a priest. I am sure murder would be one. Probably just about anything that would be considered criminal.

The problem was certain sins might be mortal if intent was involved. And here is where some of my guilt issues started I think. I was what we might politely term as a precocious child. I had a real pension for getting into trouble. In Catholic school most of the teachers were nuns. And with kids like me they used sin as a weapon. If I was disobedient or unruly, I was often told, “John, you will need to see the priest and confess what you have done. Such acts can lead to damnation of your soul!” Then I would wonder, ok is throwing spit balls at Billy a mortal sin? Like I said it could get confusing and I would find myself feeling guilty but not sure what to do about it.

After puberty if got even worse. My mother had warned all of us about the consequences of masturbation. I think even resorting to ‘wives tales’ about things that might happen if we weren’t careful. But for both her, the nuns, and priests, it was a sure thing that this was a grave mortal sin. I must admit in my teens and later years I struggled with it and guilt always piled upon guilt.

As I failed in my adult life, no longer a Catholic or able to believe there was a God who categorized our wrongs against him, I found the one thing I was left with was guilt. Failed relationships, addictions which led to sins that I could not face. I found no other answer than to run and to hide deeper into the very things that were causing this anguish. It was a vicious circle.

If you have read this blog, you know that was my life for way too many years. And it is only through the grace of God that I am even coherent enough to write and share today. It was not easy for the Holy Spirit to break through that cycle I lived in. But He has tools which can break down walls so thick it can only be termed a miracle and I live because of such a miracle.

The Apostle Paul wrote this, “But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) This is what the Holy Spirit was able to show me, that in these words were the secret to breaking my cycle of guilt.

I was able to admit I was sinful, be it venial or mortal, sin is sin. It is an offense against God, and I am an offender. But here is the revelation I received, there was nothing I could do to break the cycle, I was too weak. But if I could turn my weakness over to Him who conquered sin, His grace would be sufficient. He triumphs were I fail. My guilt wasn’t needed!

Today I would pray that those guilty feelings are gone for good, but it was proven to me again yesterday that I can fall right back into the old pattern piling on the guilt even when it is not mine to carry. It is my prayer today that I would be free of this and its burdens by trusting in the words of Jesus, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) His grace is sufficient; His rest is sure.

Blessings John,
7/18/18
Note: Publishing two days in a row to get back on my regular writing schedule. All good vacations must come to an end. It is good to be home soon.

We are back in the airport after a week of traveling together. A week ago, we left Georgia and flew to Chicago. After picking up our rental car we headed north with no schedule or exact plan for our travels except that we were going to start in Chicago and end up here again when we were done.

We did have some ideas that guided our route such as visiting a few homes of RuthAnn’s youth both in Chicago and in the Milwaukee area. Then to visit Lambeau Field in Green Bay Wisconsin, as any loyal Packer fan should. Heading to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan catching glimpses of my past in and near Ishpeming, Michigan. Seeing and traveling over the Mackinaw Bridge and spending time on Mackinaw Island. From there heading south along Lake Michigan and visiting as many light houses as we could.

Our days were full as we did all these things. But some way or another we were able to squeeze even more into this week. An amazing Sabbath Saturday sharing worship with the Battle Creek, Michigan Tabernacle SDA Church and visiting the Pioneer Heritage Center, where we could absorb early Adventist history and so much more. With Sunday dawning we still had two more days to wander.

Ever meandering southward, we visited more lighthouses and spent time at the Indiana dunes. Back in Chicago yesterday. I had an urge to find my seminary high school and was amazed to find it no longer existed and an entire housing complex in it’s place. The only trace of it was a street named St Vincent’s, which was the name of the seminary. Finally, we searched for RuthAnn’s grandparents house, which we think we found but are not completely sure.

It feels like we have seen so much we are both on overload. We certainly have slept in enough strange beds and spent enough time eating bad breakfasts at motel complimentary breakfast bars. We like most of you loved to be on vacation but are longing to be home.

As I sit here with another hour before our flight leaves I am left with one thought that has struck me repeatedly on this journey, you can never go back. Here is what I mean. At almost every stop along my nostalgic path either everything I once knew over forty years ago was completely gone or was so altered that I could not recognize it. I searched for the first home I ever owned. RuthAnn and I traveled up and down this short road in Champion, Michigan. But no matter how hard I tried I could not find the home I lived in for over four years.

Later that day I stood in an empty lot that was once our family restaurant. Not a clue that it was a vibrant lively business in my youth. It continued place after place. Culminating in the missing high school I spent four years living and learning in. As I said, you can never go back.

As I get older I think I have spent more time reminiscing over the years gone by. Most of it these days, is seeing all the times God worked in my life and I didn’t have a clue. And, I see all the times I hurt or damaged another person with my addictions and self-absorbed life and I wish I could go back and fix them. In most cases, like my recent vacation there is no way to go back to that time. Or ways to reach out to that person who was hurt or damaged.

For sure Jesus told us we have a duty to try, “Therefore if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering.” (Matthew 5:23-24) Yet we also cannot live in the past knowing our sins our forgiven at the cross. So, we might not be able to go back and correct everything, but we can take the lesson we learned and share God’s grace with others.

The Apostle Peter says it this way, “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” (1 Peter 4:10) In my case that means never forgetting what and how I was saved, but also to remember not to live in the past but live with the hope only Jesus gives.

As we head home today, I am blessed. RuthAnn sits next to me and I have once again been reminded that going home is nothing to do with this world. The places where I once lived, worked, and struggled, might now be gone but all this will soon be gone only to be replaced by the kingdom of God. That is my real home and I do not need to wait in an airport to get there, just believe in He who saved me. I pray today that you are on this journey with me. If not, why not join? Your past might not be changed but your eternal future will be.

Blessings John,
7/17/18

“I do not believe a word you say!” I spoke in anger at the man standing in my doorway. He raised his hand plaintively and said, “John, come on. You know I will figure a way to get the money back.” I knew nothing of the kind.

Tom had already gotten our truck impounded. Sold company tools and now claimed he had been robbed when $1000.00 of company funds had disappeared from a deposit he was supposed to take to the bank. So many times, I had trusted this guy who had been my partner and friend for the last two years.

It had all started well enough. Four guys had gotten together and decided we could form our own Ironworking company. Each of us seemed to be skilled in certain aspects which would benefit such a partnership. Paul had business connections in the construction community, Tom had knowledge of book-keeping, Joe and I had been superintendents and years of experience to get the work done. How could we fail?

It hadn’t taken long to see that good intentions and talents were not going to be enough. We were getting jobs but Joe and my addictions for alcohol and drugs were making life rough for Paul who had most of his business connections through his church and most of them didn’t think they could trust people like us. Tom seemed to be taking care of the money but signs that he might be ripping us off started to surface. But we had commitments and there was nothing to do but keep moving forward.

For two years we struggled on. Money was always tight as Tom added to the woes with his dishonesty. Paul found less and less doors open to a company that allowed drunks and druggies to run their work. And Joe and I were at each other’s throats on how to run the little for we had. We no longer believed in our dream. We lost faith in each other.

By the time I came to Jesus, I had lost all faith in humanity. It seemed around every corner there was someone waiting to get over on me. It had infected everything, including my relationships. My friends were few and I really trusted none. My marriages continued to fail and I was always ready to blame everyone and anyone. Something was missing but I was sure it was in everyone else not me.

As I started reading the Word of God especially the New Testament something kept jumping out at me, the word faith. It got so apparent that I googled it. And depending on the version you read it can be from 336 times in the King James to 521 times in the New American Standard. No matter how you look at it that is a lot. But the problem was I had lost the meaning of the word in my life. I mean, how could I ‘have faith’ when the only one I could trust was me.

I am sure some of you are saying, “Wow, no wonder this guy took 45 years to get past his addictions! He spent all those years trusting in the wrong guy!” If any of you thought something like that, to you I say “Amen!” It took me a long time even after I filled my mind and heart with the word of God to get it. In fact, it took a miracle. It took un-numbered prayers of others and the Holy Spirit’s power to open my mind to see what so many find in a minute. There it was in front of me in the book of Hebrews, a book I had listened to and read literally hundreds of time. But one day only a few years ago my eyes were opened through this passage, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that has been set before us. Looking to Jesus the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider Him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or faint hearted.” (Hebrews 12: 1-3)

I had read about the witnesses in Chapter 11. They were called men and woman of faith. But it had not come together in my mind until I saw why I could have faith in one who cannot let you down, Jesus. Did you see in the words, “…who for the joy set before him endured the cross…”? I finally knew that the joy being spoken of was me, was you. Jesus died with the weight of our sins, lost to the Father, but did it with the joy of my salvation in his broken heart. How could I deny Him my trust, my faith?
And when I did, I found I could begin to trust others. No not because the world was any better but because I realized it was not about me. I understood better what Jesus tells us, “to love our neighbors as ourselves” and we can only do that when we see ourselves through a holy God’s eyes. Sin tainted but saved by nothing we do, but in the cross. That changes everything.

Those many years ago my company blew apart. There were years of repercussions. Mostly that I found myself increasingly isolated from the world and more enveloped in my addictions. I can look at it now through eyes not my own and only see the forgiveness God has shown to me. I pray today my faith in Jesus is stronger today than yesterday and ever stronger each day until the day He returns. Will you trust him today? Where is your faith?

Blessings John
9/20/17 (reposted 7/15/18)

The courtroom was full. Lawyers and clients filled the rows and as case numbers were called each came forward to present whatever defense that was they could but mainly were there to plead for the best sentence possible. The bailiff called “State versus John Weston, case number MC66090. Drunk and disorderly, and resisting arrest…..” I rose from my seat along with my court appointed lawyer. Coming before the judge he asked, “How do you plead?” He never looked up from the file in front of him as I said, “Guilty, your honor.” At that my lawyer then tried to convince the judge that I was sorry and seeking to be allowed to do community service instead of jail time because I had a family to support and they would have to be dependent on state aid if I was incarcerated. When he was finished the judge finally looked at me, his face was stern as he spoke, “Mr. Weston, the charges against you today are serious and I see this is not the first time you have had issues relating to drunkenness. Sir, do you believe you have an alcohol problem?” I tried to answer with a steady voice but had a noticeable tremor as I said, “No your honor, I believe that I drink only occasionally and not to excess.” I could see He wasn’t having any of it and said, “After conferring with the city attorney, I am going to sentence you to 6 months of probation and community service. Also, you must enroll in a state recognized alcohol rehabilitation program and pay a $4000.00 fine plus court costs…” I was in a daze as I left the courtroom, my life was a mess again.

Within two weeks I found myself enrolled in AA again and assigned to a community service program that was associated with a local church. I begged my lawyer to try to get something different, I did not want to work with ‘holy rollers’ but he advised me to not only show up but do everything I was instructed. Failing to do so could lead to serious jail time. I knew this was true and accepted my fate.

It was then that I met Tom, he was the community service coordinator for the Bethel Baptist Outreach. We met at the church offices and he was going to explain the work I would be doing. As we shook hands, I felt very uncomfortable. I had not been on any church grounds for many years and being here to meet with this straight-laced Christian was the last place I wanted to be

As I entered the office, he rose from behind an old wooden desk and came around to shake my hand, “Hi, I am Tom Wilson.” I shook his hand but did not return his warm gaze. As we sat he began to explain the program, “Our mission is to work with and feed the poor of this area. I understand you have a food service background. We are asking that you join our kitchen staff. You would help cook and serve the dinner meal which is served twice a week, on Wednesday and Friday nights.” He looked at me expectantly but I said nothing, just shook my head in agreement. We made arrangements for me to for me to start the next week. As I was leaving Tom said, “John, I can tell you aren’t happy to be here but all we ask is that you work with us and treat all our visitors with respect, can you do that?” I answered, “Yeah, I can handle it.” He smiled warmly as I left.

Over the next 6 months, twice a week I worked in the church kitchen. My attitude never changed toward the people I worked with yet never once was I shown anything but what a now recognize as Christian love. Tom often came to my home and he knew the financial hardship the sentence had put on my family. Often, he brought some groceries with him and maybe something special for my son.

At the time, the best I can say is that I endured those months and when they were over returned to my lifestyle without much to show for it. We moved on not long after and the people of that church including Tom were soon forgotten.
But God has a way of using all things for our good. Almost 5 years ago I heard that our church was starting a soup kitchen. The head of our community service was attempting to expand our outreach to the needy of the city. I decided to volunteer.

Again, my food service experience came into use. For a few years the kitchen struggled but eventually it took off and we were serving sometimes over a hundred people every Tuesday.

As I found myself in charge of the kitchen the memories of Tom and his people became my model. Their unfailing love shown to all that came through the door was my goal for our outreach. In fact, it was Tom’s prayer that I prayed every Tuesday before we opened the door, “Lord do not let us forget to treat every person who joins us today as children of Yours, deserving of the same love you have shown us…”

God had a plan for our lives before we are even born. He told Jeremiah His plan for him in this way, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you. I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” (Jeremiah 1:5) No He does not appoint all of us to be prophets but he does give us gifts and provides ways for us to use them. We just need to be willing.

Many years ago, I was sentenced to work for the good of others and I did not see that if I would have opened my heart at that time God would have been waiting. I sometimes regret that but know His timing is perfect and today is a good day to do His will. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways submit to Him, and He will make you paths straight.” (Proverbs 3: 5-6) I have learned to trust this and like the old saying says, “Better late than never.”

I know Tom and most of those who worked with me are now gone but they are certainly not forgotten. The love they showed continues to grow. May we all be able to say that before Jesus comes again.

Blessings John
6/21/17

Am on vacation this week so reposting a few of last years! Back writing after the 17th of July

When I awoke my mind was muddled. I thought, “Where am I?” As my eyes adjusted to the dank light I could see I was in some sort of a holding cell and it was crowded. I had been sleeping in an upright position leaning against a cold block wall. Next to me I saw that Glenn, Bobby and Gerry were also in the cell.

As I attempted to stand Glenn said, “It’s about time you woke up, I think we are going before the judge soon and I want to get our stories straight.” My mind had not cleared, and I could not comprehend what he was saying, my face must have portrayed this because he looked at me with stern eyes and continued, “Do you know where you are and why we are here?” Slowly pictures, more like snippets of motorcycle rides, streets filled with people and a fight that had broken out, but it was all just a jumble.

Gerry stirred and said, “I doubt if that boy remembers anything! I know he drank almost a quart of that moonshine at the ball field!” At the mention of moonshine memories began to flood back. Yeah, we had been at the company baseball game. The Chilmon Ironworkers were playing the Bayless Carpenter team. The game had begun right after work at the field across from the nuke plant. Gerry and I had bought three quarts of ‘white lightening’ from that dude who sells it before almost every game. It was hot and cold beer and chuggs of moonshine had been my dinner. But how did we get from that ball park to here.

I must have still looked confused because Gerry said, “You were really out of it when we all decided to take a run to Louisville to get in on the ‘Derby Week’ party.” I remembered we had talked about making a run, but I still could not remember doing it. Just again some foggy thoughts of being on the back of someone’s Harley and muffled ideas of more booze and some kind of a brawl.

As I sat with my head in my hands the cell door opened, and names were being called. Little by little the cell emptied. Glenn and Gerry talked quietly about the story we were going to tell the judge. Bobby like myself seemed out of it, but I could see he was trying to listen.

Finally, our names were called. A deputy directed us to a long corridor which led to a set of oaken doors. As he opened them, I could see a large courtroom filled with people. Some in suits others dressed in street clothes standing in a line waiting to go before a harried looking judge. We entered and a small man with a rumbled suit came and stood next to us. He mumbled that he had been appointed our lawyer and not looking up from the folder in his hand said, “Just shut up when you get before the judge. I will answer for you then all you need do is say, “Guilty as charged.” Then you will go over to that bailiff and pay fifty bucks apiece. If you aint got cash, he will take a check or credit card. Y’all understand?” Glenn tried to argue about the guilty plea, but the rumbled man shook his head, “You were drunk, were you not?” Glenn shrugged. “You did get into an altercation with four men in the Sundowner’s Saloon?” Glenn shrugged again. “You did resist being cuffed?” At this Glenn began to speak. But the man held up his hand again. “Do as I say, and you will be home before lunch. If not, you will be eating rice and beans in county for the next couple months.” With that Glenn resigned and the rest of our gang, including me did the same.

Under the influence of alcohol and drugs I did many things I am not proud of. The incident I have just written was not the first or the last time I had gotten so inebriated that I lost all ideas of time and could not clearly know what I had done under the influence. What was worst than anything was the not knowing. Had I done something I would regret? Had I embarrassed myself in front of friends? Had I committed a crime, and someone was looking for me? I woke up many mornings wondering these kinds of questions.

The one thing that was sure, was there would be consequences, always. I would try to minimalize them or talk my way out of them, but the truth always came out. I had been out of control and done things, sometimes without memory. Either way there was a price to pay.

As a sober man now for nearly eight years. I look back on those days and still feel the regret and embarrassment of incidents like the one I am revealing. I know now the problem was I had no moral center. Yes, I could feel guilty but more because I wanted people to thing well of me not because I understood I had sinned and needed not only their forgiveness but God’s also.
It is only when I understood the price that was paid for me, this addict, this self-indulged man, that I saw the sins committed then and now had consequence beyond my own discomfort and even beyond the pain I caused others. “He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification.” (Romans 4:25)

I am praying today that those who still live under the sway of substances can know that there is a Savior who willingly took the consequence of our sin. There is no need to keep repeating the same old things over and over. Turn it over to Him today and He will help you make it right.

When I returned home from the Louisville debacle I had even more consequences to pay. A wife who was angry and unforgiving. A son who did not understand why we were always arguing and more. I have sought in my walk to make right the things I can from my lost years. But some things only prayer and the Lord’s power can fix. I am blessed today to wake up sober and most of the time knowing what I did the day before. Still needing many times to seek His forgiveness but now with the true hope in Jesus and the cross. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) Amen!

Blessings John
7/9/18