Carolyn CJ Jones
As I clung desperately to the table, the storm raged, tossing the anchored sailboat in all directions while waves slapped loudly against the steel hull of the boat that was my home. Despite my numbed terror, I watched the rain through my tears and the closed portholes while I drank my last beer. After summoning up the courage, I wiped my eyes and suited up for the row into shore to get another six-pack.
My ability to reason had deserted me. Otherwise, I never would have contemplated rowing my ten-foot dinghy to shore in the storm; I could easily drown, just like other anchor-outs who had rowed into shore while drunk. Nonetheless, my reasoning powers were gone and that’s exactly what I did.
By the grace of God, I made it back to the boat that night. As I resumed drinking myself into oblivion, I exclaimed, “I’m dying from all the beer! Why are you killing yourself, Jones?!!!” As I considered this, I came to the deep realization that even though my life had been ripped apart by the devastation, shame, and humiliation from the rejection of an unrequited love, there was a sliver of me that yearned to live. Once that dawned on me, I cried, “God, please help me! I can’t do this anymore!” After this desperate plea, I crawled back inside and cried myself to sleep.
The morning following the storm, I rowed ashore under clear, calm skies to work in the onshore communal garden for people living on anchored-out boats. As I ran my fingers through the rich soil, I reflected upon my life and my drinking. I did not know how to live without the beer that was killing me.
As I troweled the dirt around the tiny vegetable sprouts, I realized how the growth of these budding plants was similar to my efforts to stay sober. Just as the tiny seeds needed fortified soil to grow, my sobriety needed the soil of love and self-respect to sprout. Just as the seeds grew and pushed through the dirt, I resolved to give up beer so my sober journey’s efforts could begin to poke through all that was heaped on top of my heart.
Two months passed without a drink. I returned to the garden to see my plants flourishing, just as my attempts to give up drinking were strong and steady. I uttered a prayer of gratitude for the fruits of my labor and the garden of new beginnings that was bringing me peace.
I thanked God for healing my need to drown my sorrows. I realized my betterment was due to His intervention, as well as my own actions in tilling my garden of difficulties. I understood the importance of grooming and caring for my heart, and its desire to cultivate a new sober beginning.
Twenty-two years have passed as I continue to till my heart. I learned the art of sobriety that brought a garden of new beginnings. “Thank you, God.”
Carolyn CJ Jones is a multi-award-and-medal-winning Author, Forgiveness Guide and Coach, and a Motivational Speaker. Having spent thirty years an angry, bitter, blaming, victim, she learned to forgive the resentment.