Can A Leopard Change Its Spots?
Part 4, Toward A Better Understanding Of Substance Abuse
Recently I journeyed about 2½ hours to a remote little town in the northeast corner of the state to spend some time with Tim. It was a nice drive along the blacktops and rolling hills of Appalachia, a reminder again that most of the world is not like this far-too-busy place where I now live. I zoomed past "smokey" a few times, and he generously granted me the grace of 5-10 mph over the speed limit. And I encountered more than a few oncoming drivers with the curious and slightly annoying insistence that I throw up a hand and wave to complete strangers as we pass. As usually happens when I venture to places such as I knew from long ago, I began to wax a bit wistful and homesick. Maybe, just maybe, I will move back to a place like this, one day…
Tim is residing for a few months at Penfield Christian Home . I have the greatest of respect for such a practical effort to make a difference in the lives of hurting people. In my opinion, this is something we as evangelicals do not do enough. Sometimes, we are guilty of trivializing everything else about a person in our rush to save his soul. Indeed, as I visited a little with some of the current residents, I found out that some of them were quite versed in the Baptist religion. Apparently, being Baptist did little to shield them from drug and alcohol addiction. Mamas and preachers did well the job of instilling the messages of fire and damnation, and little about practical matters like loving self and finding strength to say “no” to temptation.
These men, about 20 current residents, admittedly were on the brink of self destruction. They ranged in ages from 18 to 72. That’s right. At first I thought he was a Facilitator, but Tim told me the man was a fellow resident- 72 years old. I felt initial pity for this man whose life was now in twilight as he made this last clutch for sobriety. And yet there was also respect that he was willing to try, yet again. And I wished him well.
Tim had stories tell. The days were very structured, even regimented, which was an effort to instill discipline. Apparently, these men had allowed their lives to drift far from such structure. There was little privacy, for the rooms were always subject to surprise inspections. About a week ago, two of the residents slipped out in the middle of the night to purchase beers at the convenience store down the road. They were quickly dismissed. No second chances. And Tim sounded quite willing to admit his problems. This place was his last and best chance to find a different way of living. He was determined to make it work.
We interacted for several hours and I could not help but feel compassion for the man. This hulking man of bulging muscles and soft voice now seemed broken. But I continued to be a bit wary, for I also knew him to be a good salesman/con artist. I wondered if he had reached the point of true change, or if this was a continuation of an effort to bluff his way through life? Of course, in the final analysis, who knows such matters but God? So we had dinner together at Steak And Shake, which he said was a nice change from the cafeteria meals. I helped him pick out a Bible for his daughter. We ran a couple of errands. And we had a time of prayer together. I dropped him off with a prayer and a promise to stay in touch. And, an earnest hope that he would win this battle.
Where will this guy be, a year from now? I guess… it is up to him. And God, if Tim will so allow.
