“To strengthen myself for this gory task I went into a bar. A few more drinks would give me the courage to commit this triple murder. As I entered the bar I saw a young man by the name of Carl drinking coffee. Although I had hated Carl from boyhood I was utterly astounded to note his immaculate appearance, and I was also astonished to see him drinking coffee in a bar where he had spent on an average of $400 a month for drinks alone. Also I was mystified by what seemed a strange light on his face. Being fascinated by his appearance, I approached Carl and asked, ‘What happened to you that you are drinking coffee?’
“‘I have not had a drink for a year,’ Carl replied.
“I was utterly amazed, because Carl and I had been on many drinking bouts together. A strange incident in this affair is that even though I hated Carl I was strangely moved. I could not help but listen when he asked, ‘Ed, did you ever want to quit drinking?’
“‘Yes, I have quit a thousand times,’ I replied.
“Carl smiled and said, ‘If you really want to do something about your problem, get sober and attend a meeting at the Presbyterian Church at nine on Saturday. It is a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.’
“I told him I had no interest in religion, but that maybe I would come. I was unimpressed, but still I could not get that light in his eyes out of my mind.
“Carl did not insist that I attend the meeting, but repeated that if I wanted to do something for myself he and his associates had an answer to my problem. After making that statement Carl left and I stood up to the bar to order a drink, but somehow it had lost its appeal. So, instead, I went home, the only home I had remaining, my mother’s home.
“May I explain that I had been married for seventeen years to a very fine girl, but being an impatient person and having no faith in me due to my drinking, she finally decided upon getting a divorce, so not only my job and all my material assets but my home also were completely lost.
“Upon getting to my mother’s home I wrestled with a bottle until 6 A.M., but still could not take the drink. I kept thinking of Carl’s appearance. So on Saturday morning I went to Carl and asked him what I could do to keep from taking a drink until nine o’clock that night when the meeting would be held.
“Carl said, ‘Every time you come to a bar or whisky sign or beer garden, just say one little prayer—“Please, God, get me past this place,”’ and then he added, ‘Run like hell. That will be co-operating with God. He will hear your prayer and the running will be your part.’
“I did exactly as Carl told me to do. For many hours, anxious and shaky, accompanied by my sister, I walked around the streets of the town. Finally at eight o’clock my sister said, ‘Ed, there are seven drinking joints between here and the place where you are to attend the meeting. You go by yourself, and if you don’t make it and come home drunk we will still love you and hope for the best, but somehow I feel that this meeting will be different than any you ever attended.’ With God’s help I got by those seven places.
“At the church entrance I happened to look around and the sign over one of my favorite drinking places glared me straight in the eyes. The battle to decide whether to go into that bar or into the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting is one I shall never forget, but a Power greater than myself pulled me to the meeting.
“Upon entering the meeting room I was utterly astounded to receive the firm handshake of my ex-hated friend, Carl. My resentment toward him was disappearing. A round of introductions began to many men in all walks of life—doctors, lawyers, bricklayers, millwrights, coal miners, construction workers, plasterers, laborers—all types were there. I had been drinking with some of these men for the last ten to twenty-five years and here they were all sober on a Saturday night, and, above all, they were happy.
“What happened at that meeting is rather vague. All I know is that a rebirth had taken place. I felt different deep within.
“Happily leaving the meeting room at midnight, I went home with a glorious air-lifting feeling and slept peaceably for the first time in more than five years. Upon awakening the next morning, I recall something clearly saying to me, ‘There is a Power greater than yourself. If you will turn your will and your life over to the care of God as you understand Him, He will give you strength.’
“It was Sunday morning, and I decided to go to church. I attended a service where the preacher was a man whom I had hated from childhood. (The author wishes to comment at this point how inevitably hate is associated with emotional and spiritual sickness. When the mind is emptied of hate, a long step has been taken toward recovery. Love is a tremendous curative force.) This preacher was one of those sedate, swallowtailed-coat-wearing Presbyterian ministers. I had no use for him, but that was my fault. He was all right really. I sat nervously through the singing and the collection taking. Then the preacher read his Scripture, and his sermon was based upon the theme, ‘Never belittle anyone’s experience—he had it.’ I shall never forget that sermon as long as I live. It taught me a valuable lesson—never to belittle an experience because someone had it, for he and God know the depth and sincerity of that experience.
“Later I came to love this minister as one of the greatest, most sincere men I have ever known.
“Just where my new life began is a matter that is difficult to determine. Whether it was when I met Carl in the bar, or wrestling past the drinking places, or at the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, or at the church, I do not know. But I, who had been a hopeless alcoholic for twenty-five years, suddenly became a sober man. I could never have done this alone, for I had tried it a thousand times and failed. But I drew upon a Higher Power and the Higher Power, which is God, did it.”
I have known the narrator of the foregoing story for several years. Since becoming “dry” he has had to face some difficult financial and other problems. But never once has he weakened. In talking with him I find myself strangely moved. It isn’t what he says or even the way he says it, but one is conscious of a power emanating from this man. He is not a famous person. He is an everyday, hard-working salesman, but the Higher Power is in him, flowing through him, operating within his experience, and it transmits itself to others. It transmitted itself to me.
This chapter is not intended as a dissertation on alcoholism, although I will use still another reference in connection with this problem. I cite these experiences to show conclusively that if there is a Power able to deliver a person from alcoholism, this same Power can help any other person to overcome any other form of defeat he may face. There is nothing more difficult to overcome than the problem of alcoholism. The Power that can accomplish that difficult feat can, I assure you, help you to overcome your difficulties whatever they may be.
Let me give still another experience. I narrate this incident for the same purpose, namely, to emphasize that there is a Power which can be applied, drawn upon, and used that mysteriously but surely gives to people who demonstrate faith the most remarkable victories.
In the Hotel Roanoke at Roanoke, Virginia, one night a man who has since become a good friend told me the following story. Two years before he had read my book, A Guide to Confident Living. At that time he was considered by himself and by others to be an utterly hopeless alcoholic. He is a businessman in a Virginia town and is of such ability that despite his drinking problem he was able to keep going with fair success. He had absolutely no control over his drinking, however, and evident deterioration was taking place.
Upon reading the book above mentioned, the idea was lodged in his mind that if he could only get to New York he could be cured of his difficulty. He came to New York but was dead drunk when he arrived. A friend took him to a hotel and left him. He recovered sufficient consciousness to call a bellboy and told him that he wanted to go to the Townes Hospital, a famous institution for alcoholics, presided over by the late Dr. Silkworth, one of the greatest men in the field of alcoholism—now deceased but never to be forgotten.
After robbing him of one hundred or more dollars which he had in his pocket, the bellboy delivered him to the hospital. After several days of treatment, Dr. Silkworth came in to see him and said, “Charles, I think we have done for you all that we can do. I have a feeling that you are well.”
This was not Dr. Silkworth’s usual practice, and the fact that he handled this case in this manner causes one to sense the guiding hand of a Higher Power.
Still somewhat shaky, Charles made his way downtown until he found himself outside the office door of the Marble Collegiate Church, 1 West 29th Street, New York City. It happened to be a legal holiday and the church was closed. (Other than such holidays the church is always open.) He stood there hesitantly. He had hoped that he might go into the church and pray. Not being able to gain entrance, he did a strange thing. He took from his wallet one of his business cards and dropped it through the mail slot in the door.
The instant he did that a tremendous wave of peace came over him. He had an amazing sense of release. He put his head against the door and sobbed like a baby, but he knew that he was free, that some tremendous change had happened to him the validity of which is attested by the fact that from that minute on there has been no turning back. He has lived in complete sobriety from that moment.
There are several features about this incident which mark it as impressive. For one, Dr. Silkworth seemed to have released him from the hospital at the proper psychological, spiritual, and shall we say supernatural moment, indicating that the doctor himself was the subject of Divine guidance.
When Charles told me this story in the Hotel Roanoke two years after it happened, I had a feeling as he related it that I had heard it before in precise detail. But he had never told me this story. In fact, I had never previously talked to him. It occurred to me that perhaps he had written the story to me and I had read it, but he said he had never written me. I then asked him if he had told the story to one of my secretaries, associates, or any other person who could have related it to me, but he said he had never told the story to any other individual save his wife and I had not met her until that night. Apparently this incident had been transmitted to my subconscious at the time it happened for now I “remembered” it.
Why did he drop the card in the mail slot? Perhaps he was symbolically reporting to his spiritual home, reporting to God. It was a dramatic and symbolic separation of himself from his defeat and the turning to a Higher Power which immediately took him out of himself and healed him.
The incident indicates that if there is deep desire, intensity of longing, and a sincere reaching out after the Power that it will be given.
In this chapter I have related victory stories out of human experience each in its own way indicating the continual presence and availability of a life-renewing Power, beyond but resident within ourselves. Your problem may not be alcoholism, but the fact that the Higher Power can heal a person of this most difficult malady emphasizes the tremendous truth related in this chapter and throughout the entire book that there is no problem, difficulty, or defeat that you cannot solve or overcome by faith, positive thinking, and prayer to God. The techniques are simple and workable. And God will help you always, just as the writer of the following letter was helped.
“Dear Dr. Peale: When we think of all the wonderful things that have happened to us since we first met you and started coming to the Marble Church, it seems nothing short of a miracle. When you realize that just six years ago this month I was totally broke—in fact thousands of dollars in debt—a complete physical washout—and had hardly a friend in the world because of my excess drinking—you can see why we have to pinch ourselves every now and then to realize that our good fortune isn’t all a dream.
“As you well know, alcohol wasn’t the only problem I had six years ago. It has been said that I was one of the most negative people you ever saw. That’s only a half truth. For I was filled with gripes, all sorts of irritation, and was one of the most super-critical, impatient, cocky individuals that you could have possibly met even in all your travels.
“Now, please don’t think I feel I have overcome all these obsessions. I haven’t. I am one of those people that have to do a day-to-day job on myself. But gradually, by trying to follow your teachings, I am learning to control myself and be less critical of my fellow man. And it is like being released from a prison. I just never dreamed that life could be so full and wonderful. Sincerely, (Signed) Dick.”