My faith in a program of recovery was put to the test. I was on a 9 hour mission to pick up a fellow addict and bring him into treatment. It started well, picked him up from his home north of Houston and made my way to Austin. Half way there my tire exploded and I limped to the side of the highway. There was a storm, rain poured, and I had no tire unlock. I was miles from any town and had to get the man into treatment. All the businesses were closed close by to tow to and I was feeling anxious and powerless. Calls were made to my sober circle – men working a strong program that have my six. Billy answered the call and after just getting off a full day work shift came to my aid. Billy helped ground me and gave us a ride to drop the man off at treatment and took me home. A five hour late night mission. What a stud! Help is the biggest four letter word. A word I had difficulty grasping before I got sober. For a former Airborne Infantry bootstrapping self-willed man with a Ranger mindset, asking a man for help was a sign of weakness. I realize in sobriety it is a sign of strength; that and turning my life over to a Higher Power I call God. God has my six. Billy has my six. My brothers in recovery have my six.
One Response
It’s crazy, in addiction I was so alone. In recovery I walk shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters. When I falter they are there to support me and give me strength.