Emily Howard, Writer

Growing Girl: Searching for God, Finding Myself

Sample Chapter: Well, Well, Well

Once, I was in the dark.

It was September 2019 and my face was on the giant projection screen at my church. Projection me was telling everyone in the congregation that I was an alcoholic and have been in jail.

How do I get myself into these situations? Let’s back up a bit.

The time my giant face was on the projection screen was actually my second public testimony about being an alcoholic. The first had been three years earlier, when I was on my first church staff. We were trying to find ways to ignite our sleepy congregation, to awake the sleepers into a living, dynamic faith. Having just returned from my mission trip to Rwanda, I was filled with courage and holy fire. Apparently. I decided it was time to finally share my story, embarrassing bits and all. With my sweet husband beside me I sat on a stage, in front of about 40 people and a video camera, to share about my deepest, darkest secret.

My dad was an alcoholic, so it’s the genes, I suppose. Since I spent most of my life suppressing real feelings and avoiding hard situations, drinking was a logical step. It aided my avoidance quite nicely. High school parties led to college parties let to young adult parties. Before I knew it, I was married and had two small children and the same drinking habits I had had as a college student. It wasn’t pretty.

Let’s take a brief stroll down memory lane, shall we? Watch your step, it’s dark and muddy with lots of potholes.
Ten years ago, I was on a work trip on a sunny May afternoon. While driving home, I decided it would be a good idea to stop at the nearest convenience store for some alcohol for the ride home.

Swerving. Blue lights. Handcuffs.

That’s how I found myself spending the night in a drunk tank. They gave me an orange jumpsuit to wear and a hole in the floor to pee in. Terrified, embarrassed, and humbled, I waited for daylight and for my husband to come pick me up. This would be it, surely. I expected yelling, shame, maybe even threats of divorce.

The next morning my husband walked in the room where I was waiting. I had a headache. My breath was terrible. He looked at me and my face crumpled. He walked toward me, put his arms around me, and hugged me. Oh God, that hug. He whispered in my ear, “God loves you, and so do I. We are going to get through this.”

No judgment. No yelling. No shame.

Just a hug.

I stopped drinking for good in November of that year. As of this writing I have been sober for ten years. I do not know what finally made it click that night. I really don’t. I’ve tried to explain it to others who are struggling, and the best I can do is that one day it can and will stick. You might try a thousand times to quit whatever it is that is hurting you. Don’t give up. It might take one thousand and one. I think people see the deep divide between where they are and where they want to be and think it’s impossible to breach. It’s not. But you won’t get there with a giant leap. You will get there by building a strong bridge, slowly and painstakingly.

When I think of this chapter in my life and where I am today, I always think of the story of the woman at the well in scripture. There are many ways to interpret this story, but what I remember best is that society shamed her for the choices she made in life (her many husbands) and Jesus did not. He knew everything about her life and still sat with her at the well when no one else would. When I think of that gentle, companionable conversation between her and Jesus I think of my husband’s hug. True acceptance and grace is to be fully known, flaws and all…and fully loved not only in spite of those flaws but also because of them.

No one is past saving. The difference between that homeless guy on the street corner and the man in the business suit who ignores him is a few bad choices and lack of support. You are not better than that person. Grace puts us all on the same level. I think the world would be a much better place if more of us understood that.
And if you are struggling and taking even the smallest steps forward, this is me standing up and applauding you as hard as I can. Baby steps are still steps. Keep finding places where you can shine a light into the darkness. It doesn’t have to be a big spotlight, not at first, it can be a tiny match. But it will light the way for someone else, which in turn will make yours brighter. And brighter and brighter until we are all shining together.