Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

I arch mine back. “I’m trying.”

“You know, Kennedy,” he says with a sigh as he leans back, “everything I’ve ever let go of has had claw marks all over it.”

My mouth slowly creeps open. “What?”

“My sponsor said that to me on day one of my sobriety.”

“Oh.” No longer trying to detangle the parable, I’m focused on his apparent admission of his adherence to the twelve steps. I’ve only heard the terms “sponsor” and “sobriety” used together in that context. “AA?” I ask, not wanting to dole out any more assumptions for a while.

Roland nods but doesn’t appear prepared to offer anything else. I make a mental note to research the steps. Then I cancel the thought. I’ve learned enough about Roland from Wikipedia.

“How long have you been in…it?”

“I’ve been sober thirteen years in March.” He looks at me pointedly while I easily connect the dots. He sobered up on the kitchen floor of his parents’ house the month I turned five—and has stayed dry ever since.

“Wow.” A brief silence falls over our table. “You didn’t call Mom till I was eight,” I remark.

He swallows hard. “I wanted to be sure I had enough time away from the alcohol to make sense. The first year I was so determined and I was flying on enthusiasm and adrenaline. Year two, it turned out, was…man, it was brutal.” He shakes his head and looks away as if he’s a soldier recounting stories from the trenches. “Anyway,” he continues after a deep breath, “once I had three years in, I was really finding my way. Dried out and flooded with Jesus.”

“Interesting word play,” I remark with a chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh. “That’s how Jesus works, Kennedy. He wants to get it so people can’t tell where you end and He begins.”

“Didn’t God destroy the world with a flood?” I reference the story of Noah from my Old Testament class. From the Bible, literally, but most recently my OT class.

Roland lifts his chin. “Sometimes…sometimes God has to take matters into his own hands. Sometimes he has to overrun the sin and destruction we can bring into our lives. Sometimes He has to wash us clean the most powerful way possible so when we come up for air, all we’re calling is His name.”

In the middle of my visual of a raging ocean storm and Roland bobbing and gasping amongst the waves, the alarm on my phone dings, indicating the end of my break.

“I’ve gotta get back to work,” I say with an admittedly shaky voice while forcing myself to my feet.

For the first time since setting foot at Carter University, I want to stay and talk with Roland. I want to hear about his flood and his resuscitation into someone that is a perfectly functioning human being. Someone who went from escaping parental responsibility to talking about the shame and regret surrounding the decision to millions of viewers across the world.

Moreover, I want the flood. Whatever it is that Eden has. Whatever keeps Bridgette smiling and Jonah honest and pure—I want that. I want to come up for air. To untie the expectations from Mom, Dan, my friends, and even the people around me. I want that air to be Him.

I want to be flooded.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Hope Now


It’s Parents’ Weekend!

Do I seem excited enough? Really, I truly am thrilled to be seeing Mom and Dan for the first time since the semester started. As the weeks have gone on, our every other day chats have moved to 2-3 times a week. Between studying, working, and praying, I’m busy. Honestly, I’m starting to feel a little burned out from the thrice-weekly church services, but I’m digging my heels in. I need it, I’ve rationalized to myself.

That’s the other thing. I’ve been feeling this tug, a tug I recognize as God. It’s really been all-consuming—much the way the Bible indicates it should be—and I don’t know how to tell my mom. Sure, she goes to church (she raised me Episcopalian) but spirituality is fluid for her. Go to church on some Sundays, but make sure we hit the important holidays, and say grace before those holiday meals. Prayer is something reserved for before bed or when someone is sick. There is church life and regular life. And, by the way, feel free to pull on tenants from other spiritual traditions outside of Christianity to get through tough times. You know, pray to “Mother Nature” when you need a sunny or rainy day, and count on Karma to take care of those who’ve wronged you. These were all things I’d counted as normal before coming to CU.