I first met Jack (not his real name) several months ago. He had been referred to me because of his struggle with addictions and extreme anger. Practically homeless, he was in his early 50’s yet looked like he was in his late 60’s. The substance abuse had clearly taken it’s toll in very visible ways. I didn’t know Jack, I had never met him prior to his visit, but as his story unfolded, I began to connect the dots and realized I did know some of his family members. This was quite a surprise to me and I clearly remember the precise session that I realized my connection to his children.
I won’t belabor Jack’s story. It’s a familiar one for those who struggle with substance abuse. He was in and out of therapy, attempting to maintain sobriety through a number of support groups and therapists. I was struck by how remorseful and sorry he was for causing others pain. And like most people suffering from addictions, Jack had suffered tremendous pain himself, abandonment, abuse, low self esteem, depression. Yet he loved deeply. He loved his family and he loved God. He wanted to be reconciled with those he loved. He wanted to get his life in order and he was a man of strong faith in God. Yet, as true with those who struggle with addictions of any kind, there were two Jacks. There was the Jack who was in deep emotional ache reaching out to numb the pangs of darkness that would at times flood his soul. This was the angry, depressed Jack full of rage and discontent who was looking, searching for some way to wall off and block the awful pain. This was the Jack that could hurt those around him with his harsh words and his violent behavior. But, there was also the remorseful Jack, full of guilt, shame, and yes love. Always trying to improve himself, find his way back, and live a productive and fulfilling life. Jack was earnestly searching for restoration.
Recently Jack passed away and I was fortunate to attend his memorial service which was held in a beautiful, secluded wooded campground. The outdoor pavilion was filled with his friends and relatives. Amazing? Had he been forgotten? Did he die after living a meaningless life? Not at all. Remember, he loved deeply. His children are well educated, and very well adjusted and balanced from what I can tell. Somewhere in all this murky emotional pain and rage, he conveyed a strong sense of love, right, and wrong to those he loved. He passed those values and ethics on to friends and relatives. It was duly noted during the brief service. The speaker pointed out so clearly that there were two Jacks.
This was a sun drenched summer day that I will always remember. In the quiet solitude of the woods that Jack loved so well, sitting there on a rustic picnic bench, so much seemed to make sense to me. Not only did I come to understand more clearly who Jack was, but I also learned more about myself. I saw so much of Jack in myself. Jack is in all of us. You know, the other side of us that is sometimes panicked by fear, anger, rage, the walls we build, and various addictions that take hold of our life. Don’t be tempted to judge Jack. Addictions and seeking relief from emotional and spiritual pain come in many forms. But, I realized perhaps for the first time, that grace covers it all. Yes, sometimes there are “two of me” struggling within just as there were two Jacks. We continually bathe in his grace to cover our sins. Grace made the way where flesh failed time and time again. Jack’s final testimony was that he was ready to go home. He knew that he was forgiven and ready to accept the wide arms and embrace of his heavenly Father. There was a real spirit of peace that fell on the mourners that day. And I know that Jack is experiencing that peace at this moment; the ultimate peace that Jack had been searching for all of his life is now an eternal reality. And once again, Jack had touched lives by living his.
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