Crossing the bridge ...

One of the things I needed to do before starting HCV treatment was to get my bridge replaced. Not sure whether I have mentioned it or not, but there is a sordid sort of irony in that the reason I have HCV is probably linked to my previous lifestyle, and the bridge has similar roots ... no pun intended.

On Labor Day weekend, 1975, I arrived at Cecil Field Air Base in Florida after spending much of the summer in restricted barracks at Norfolk Naval Station. The reason: I had gone AWOL for just sort of 30 days. Interestingly enough, by the time the Navy picked me up from the federal tier of the Kannawah (sic?) County, W.Va., jail, I had decided getting out of the Navy would not be a good thing for me. So, among the scores of sad sacks in the restricted barracks who were being drummed out, I was one of only two people who were actually trying to stay in the Navy.

Incidentally, my stint in Norfolk included attending small-group therapy sessions. I knew I had an alcohol and drug problem, but somehow had managed to con my way through the sessions to the point that by the time I went to Captain's Mast (part of the military judicial system), everyone was convinced I was "squared away." So, instead of going to the brig, I was fined, given two weeks leave, a month's advanced pay and sent to a four-day work week and general aviation school at Cecil Field under the command of John McCain (yes, the John McCain).

My cohort who was also trying to stay in the Navy had been sent down to Cecil Field the week before. So, I surprised him and we spent a Saturday night at the base club drinking 50-cent shots of tequilla and shooting pool. I awakened sometime in the early morning on a hospital gurney with a commander slapping my face, asking me how many barbiturates I had taken. My mouth hurt incredibly ... and somehow I knew it was not from being slapped by this guy with gold bars on his shoulder. I truthfully told him, "I haven't done a barb in three months." It was then that he told me the barbiturate and alcohol level in my bloodstream should have left me dead. Instead, I had fallen dead drunk out of my bunk, flat on my face, breaking my two front teeth.

The barbiturate level remains a mystery to me, while the alcohol level is no mystery.

Now you know the story behind my bridgework.

It was also this point that the Navy decided to send me to alcohol rehab. at 19 years old. The counselor actually wanted to send me to drug rehab, but I was convinced that there were as many drugs there as on the street. So, I agreed to go to alcohol rehab.

More on that later.

Grace and peace ...

Lunch with Doug, and another visit to Lionheart ...

Had lunch with Doug Floyd on Thursday. It's amazing the way in which the Holy Spirit continues to reveal the connectedness of the relationships in my life across the years.

I talked with Doug about how I first met Milton Stanley, a mutual acquaintance, when Milton and I journeyed together to "Washington for Jesus, 1988." Milton and I met on a bus that had many people from Abundant Life Christian Fellowship in Alcoa. Doug said, "I went to Washington for Jesus, too! I wasn't on that bus, but I was there." (I meant to tell him about the old, tattered picture that sits in my office that was taken at one of the WFJ rallies on the Mall. I may scan and post it.)

As we shared various parts of our lives, there were other Spirit connections. It was a great lunch. I ate very little ... which means I probably talked too much.

Donna was busy shopping, so instead of having dinner with her Thursday evening I went to Lionheart and worshipped in the House of Prayer for about a half an hour. When I was leaving, I passed by the window of a small room and noticed that someone was being prayed over, and there appeared to be a laying on of hands. It occurred to me that the room may have been the acutal "Healing Room" that is part of the Thursday night gathering.

Funny, I thought the worship gathering that I experienced a couple of weeks ago was The Healing Room! In fact, that night of worship -- as well as tonight's time with the Lord -- was something of a "healing" experience for me. I say that because there are times when I engage in worship that I experience a change that may be to a healing of some unknown part of my spirit.

Before starting my Peg-Intron/Ribivarin treatment in January, I will visit the small room and ask for prayer. For I continue to believe that personal and corporate worship will be a key factor in my treatment experience, and ultimate healing.

Grace and peace ...