Being a drunk Christian is not a pretty site let me tell you. Not only do they have the same traits as the regular every day drunk but they are filled with self pity and remorse on a daily basis.
I myself was one of those people so you can be pretty certain that when I sat in at an exit corner bushes party with the fellas who hold the will work signs and I drank and started preaching to them... Well it didn't always work out so well.
Being allergic to alcohol, (most say alcoholic but that sounds to degrading to me and prefer allergic), for 30 plus years is very hard work and end the end you have nothing to show for said work.
You turn into a beggar, thief, con artist, liar and cheat plus many more unethical habits while telling others to repent and see the light.
I hated myself and my life and I hated it so much I did it for almost half a century.
Even though I was a pathetic human being God saw my true heart and how I longed to be like Him and He never left me the whole time.
Here are a few examples of proof He was there by my side.
I became a wayfarer early in the stages of my sickness just after loosing my wife and child in divorce and shortly after I got out of the army.
The humiliation and pain you cause those you love and who love you was to great for me and I could not be near them for fear of hurting them time and again because they cared.
I hitch hiked all around the U.S.A. back and forth several years just being a bum.
Drinkers like drug addicts must have money to supply their habit so I learned a trade in cooking, starting at Sambo's restaurant when they were still open.
I learned all shifts cooking breakfast, lunches, and dinners.
I now had the experience to go anywhere. People had to eat and restaurants and cafes are always needing help. Check your want ads and see for yourself.
Most Restaurants had a lounge and the help got a free end of shift drink. This of course would set my binge drinking in motion once again and I would never last for many pay checks. No worry's.
There's another place needing a cook in Alabama. My thumb was back up again until I was broke.
I did hold a sign once or was it twice but it made me feel so low that I just couldn't get money that way.
My dad passed away and I thumbed it back to Idaho to his funeral and he left me his pickup truck with a tall canopy on it and a fold up bed inside. Some good tools and a few odds and ends.
I was still drinking but now I had a home on wheels. I would drink and drive but always pull over and crawl in the back before I got to bad. Most of the time that is but more on that later.
Just before my dad passed away here is what happened.
I thumbed it to Medford Oregon to the little outskirt town of white city I believe it was called, but it was where the VA hospital was and they had an alcohol and homeless vet program there..
I know what your thinking. It's about time he got help with the booze. Wrong.
I went into the homeless program that after a couple weeks they let you go try find a job to help you get on your feet while trying to help you get on your feet. Instead of sleeping under an overpass or in some ones barn, you had a bed and a shower to stay clean and they fed you very well I might add.
I stayed sober until about the middle of the third week and I was walking a back road returning to the hospital and ran across a construction site with hundreds of cement round culverts littering the construction yard and there was no fence around the grounds.
