This I Believe

Courtney - Muncie, Indiana
Entered on December 8, 2008

I believe in the power of prayer. I did not realize how real this could be until this past September during my freshman year of college. I received a phone call in September from my mom telling me that dad was put into detox that afternoon. I first started screaming and yelling at mom, but then I let out a sigh of relief to know that he was finally under professional care.

My father had been an alcoholic for as long as I could remember. He never listened to anyone about getting help and was the most stubborn man I have ever known. It wasn’t easy being told you couldn’t get into the college you wanted, or that you would get nowhere in life; however, that’s not what hurt. What hurt the most was seeing someone you love drown a perfectly wonderful life down the drain with a bottle every night. It hurts trying to put a drunken fool in bed or driving him home when you are only fourteen.

I prayed every day. I’m not much of a churchgoer, nor am I a deeply religious teenager. I knew my dad needed help and I did the only thing I knew how to do…pray. I had stood up to him time and time again, but it got to the point to where I couldn’t even stand to be at home. I spent my time out with friends or staying overnight at my boyfriend’s house on school nights. Somehow, my grades remained the same and I became a stronger, more responsible person. I did not give up on my dad. I continued praying for him everyday. As things worsened, it became harder and harder to keep that faith.

When I received word that dad was in the hospital, I couldn’t believe it. My prayers, and I’m sure the prayers of other family members, were answered. The next struggle was getting him to talk to someone. I called and he cried; mom called and he hung up; my brother called and he just sat there, not saying a word. My sister called and he talked up a storm. He wouldn’t talk to his own wife, which upset all of us. Come to find out, alcoholics turn away from the one they love most…another sigh of relief to know everything would be okay.

The power of prayer, I believe, helped begin the recovery process. My dad will always be an alcoholic. His reputation will be the same throughout town. It’s hard seeing him struggle every day to carry through with his goal, his life. And it’s rather annoying seeing all those nosy people and listening to all the gossip through town, everyone wanting to know where Kenny’s been. I can honestly sit here today and say that I am proud of my dad and I could care less what any other person in town has to say. My family is strong, our bond is strong, dad is strong. I believe in the power of prayer that led to my father’s success.