I shit you not. An old hymn says "God works in a mysterious way his wonders to perform." Well, my higher power's name isn't "God", it's Harold. (Our Father, who art in heaven, Harold be thy name.) And Harold is nothing if not mysterious. But he loves me, and he has some pretty weird ways to show it.
Harold wanted me to get sober. But I'm stubborn, and Harold knows that, so he had to get creative(which he is, naturally, quite good at). Harold also knows I'm a "fixer", so when one of my friends was in trouble, he got her to ask me out for a drink to talk about it. I didn't usually go out to drink because I didn't want to drink and drive. But I have a hard time saying no to a friend in need, and back then, when it was coupled with drinking, there was no way I could say no.
We drank, we talked, she went home with her designated driver, and I got behind the wheel of my truck. Harold then put my neighbor, a local police officer, behind me on my way home. And Harold got me arrested for drinking and driving. Coincidence? I think not. It was the only way he could get my attention, and by Harold, he got it. Within two weeks' time, my stubborn butt was in an AA meeting and I was on my way.
Now, you'd think that, having gotten me sober and completely committed to my recovery, Harold would be satisfied with that. But no. Harold wanted to make sure I got to a meeting every day, so he broke my arm. You see, Harold knows I don't like to exercise. So, when he saw my plan to ride a bicycle to my AA meetings every day, he laughed. He knew full well that it would be hard enough to get me there every day without me relying on bicycle power and good weather. Plus, I was working, so I probably wasn't going to give my full attention to my sobriety. So, he broke my arm. Yup, he put me on that hill going too fast on a bicycle I'd barely ridden and let me ride myself right into a ditch. Voila, instant two month vacation with nothing to do but go to meetings.
Again, you'd think Harold would be satisfied. But Harold didn't just want me to get sober, he wanted the friend I went to help that day to get sober, too. And he wants me to be a Cowboys fan. Why? Well, there are millions of people who will tell you that Harold is a Cowboys fan. And so is my friend.
So, this week, my friend decided to try to get sober and she called me. I gave her what encouragement I could, and she checked into a hospital. All this week we've been talking, and I've promised to help her in any way I can. All this week in meetings I've been talking about my friend and asking for help in order to better help her. And all week people have been asking me if I have a sponsor.
Until today, I was between sponsors. Today my friend is getting out of the hospital. And today, of all days, the one woman I really thought would be a good sponsor for me showed up at a meeting with *her* sponsor, who lives in Texas. And the woman I wanted as my sponsor told me that she came to the meeting today because she wanted to see me and introduce me to her sponsor. So, I asked her, and now she's my sponsor.
My sponsor is from Texas, and she is a lifelong Cowboys fan. Her sponsor is not only a Cowboys fan, but, without breaking her anonymity, she knows the head football coach of the Dallas Cowboys extremely well. Now, I don't know how many of these sorts of coincidences have to happen for it to stop being mere coincidence, but for me, it's not this many. My sponsor, my grandsponsor, and my newly sober friend are all Cowboys fans, and I'm without a team. Harold clearly wants my friend to get sober and me to have a sponsor. And he wants it to happen with the Cowboys. So, go Cowboys! And go Harold! You're an amazing guy.
No comments:
Post a Comment