FUZZY NAVALS AND JESUS

Circa 1987

I was 12 years young but thought it was 12 years old. In the mind of a child, those are different things. I was not old enough for a boyfriend but I had one. Tragic. He didn’t quite have his license yet so his brother drove him to the house to deliver me a gift. Peach Schnapps and Orange Juice. He brought it in a brown bag and called it a Fuzzy Navel. I had no idea what alcohol was but I drank three. I hid the rest in some conspicuous place in my bedroom. I had a feeling it was not something I should have been drinking. Shortly after, he got his license and delivered more fuzzy navals as he convinced me we could have both. Fuzzy Navals AND Jesus. Tragic.

I was 15 the first time I drank so much beer I was unable to lift my head as I puked all over myself in the living room of that birthday party. A girl that didn’t even like me, held my head, cleaned my face, and covered my body as others walked by. I hated the smell of beer the rest of my life. 

Several years went by and I drank no more. I found it dangerous to be completely out of control of my own body and vulnerable to the intentions of anyone else around me. I didn’t fear everyone but I wasn’t naive enough to believe there wasn’t at least one I should fear. Until I sat down at the bar and ordered my frozen strawberry daiquiri light on the rum. As if I could control the alcohol. I wanted to fit in and in the heat of summer, it tasted as good as it was cute. 

I drank a little more and a little more until I could out drink nearly every single person around me. 

One afternoon, God graciously convicted me as I walked across the parking lot with the stark realization that I had been certifiably drunk every single night that week and the weekend had not even started yet. My fear of needing to attend AA slowed me down. I would love to tell you I stopped, but that would be a lie. 

Several more years went by before I found myself in a state of binge drinking a couple times a month until I am certain I got alcohol poisoning. So, I stopped. For years. 

I was a “good” girl. I was an honor roll student with an academic scholarship opportunity. I stayed out of trouble, for the most part, as the girl that grew up on a pentecostal pew. Sadly, however, I missed the message. 

As a young girl, I cried at the altar begging God to love me in spite of myself. As a young adult, I ran from God as I misunderstood that he loved me all along. As an adult, I struggled to know who God was because I knew a lot about him yet knew him none. 

I started attending a non-denominational easy going church that felt calm. If I attended once in a while, it was okay. If I attended faithfully, that was okay too. The cool Christians drank wine for dinner and with their friends. I did too. One, two, three glasses but never drunk anymore. 

I searched for a deeper meaning to a relationship with Jesus than I had in that time. Nothing to be said negative about the church or the people. I just didn’t feel like it was enough so I searched for more. Although I felt calm, I still relied on the things of the world to bring me peace and I remembered hearing of the Prince of peace as a child. I wanted to know him. Deeper. 

I found myself through a series of events laying my face on the altar of a Pentecostal church begging God to love me in spite of myself. A kind spirit filled truth teaching minister leaned over and gently told me, you do not have to beg God to love you, God has always loved you, stand to your feet, raise your hands, and thank him for his love. It’s a gift. You don’t have to earn it. God filled me with the Holy Ghost. Life. Changed. Forevermore. 

God graciously, once again convicted me as I poured a glass of wine for dinner. He asked, will this be a barrier between you and me? Will this wine keep me from doing all that I have in store for you? Do you need this glass of wine? Am I enough? I left the glass of wine at the edge of my plate as I finished my meal. I poured a few more glasses over the coming months but left them in the stemless glass untouched. I answered a lot of questions. Frankly, questions I didn’t know how to answer. People wondered if someone told me drinking wine was a sin and where was that in scripture. I fumbled through a few answers until I decided I didn’t really care what anyone else thought. 

Being drunk is sinful. Drinking a glass of wine may not be. Reality is, God asked me if he was enough and my answer was, yes. He is enough. If he asked me to put aside something, anything, even a simple glass of wine for dinner to please him, then with gladness in my heart, I say yes because the desire of my heart is to please him. Him, alone. People stopped asking. 

I share all of that to share this 👉🏻 it’s time we start asking ourselves not what is required of God but what is pleasing to God as we navigate our life including our heart which transcends into our external behaviors. 

Too young to know what alcohol was, it was introduced in my life. It brought no good, ever. Devastation and destruction of who I was came out of drinking to identify as the fun girl without a care in the world (in spite of the heavy burden I carried), status as a modern Christian (not to be mistaken for disciple of Christ as they are not the same thing), and calming of my mind from the woes of the day (not to be mistaken for peace as it is NOT peace). 

Ask, what is it, God you have for me? The prayer is simple. Search me O God, know my heart, examine my ways, show me anything that offends you, and set me on a path of righteousness. Use me Lord. As a broken vessel that your Spirit flows freely through. Let my testimony be one that shows every broken girl there is a magnificent God who created her for good purpose, your purpose, and it’s  beautiful. 💕