Divine intervention
I have been lucky enough to have experienced divine intervention at least twice in my life. To be honest, it has probably happened far more than I realize. This is my story
I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I could barely recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror: mouth drawn down into a grimace, ashen grey skin, and empty eyes. Years of bitterness, anxiety, and stress had taken their toll on me.
Of course, it happened slowly enough that I didn’t really understand the full extent of just how far I had fallen.
I was drinking every night. It wasn’t a “problem”, or so I told myself. Best case scenario I was using it to numb my feelings. Worst case scenario? I don’t even want to know. Alcohol had become a coping mechanism for me.
The other coping mechanism I had, arguably quite a bit healthier, was going for walks at night. I often combined the two and would more often than not find myself walking down a dark country road while drunk. I used these walks as a way of working through my emotions. Well, that’s not true. I just used them to let off a lot of steam. I would vent all my frustrations, all my anger, and all my despair to the night sky. It was as if I was leaving a trail of toxic energy behind me as I went. I can only imagine what someone would think if they were walking that same road. They’d likely cross to the other side and pick up their step.
I had done this for many months. The night of my intervention wasn’t really any different from the others: Alcohol. Walk. Vent. As I came to my house, I was not ready to go back in. I don’t know why, but I stood outside and stared up into the starry night.
And then it happened: Something changed, something shifted, something seemed to give way. It was in that moment that I knew I had to change. There was only one truth I needed to know at that moment…
I needed to let go of bitterness
Without a moment of hesitation, I let go of bitterness. I won’t lie to you and tell you that my life instantly changed. What happened was a moment of space, an opening of a door, and an invitation to a different way of being. Many years of therapy, coaching, and more letting go would follow. A lot more hard work would be called for to banish demons, but it wasn’t enough to just let go of things. I needed to invite in love.
This took place 7 years after the first time. I had grown a lot, become spiritual, and developed a closer relationship with God, Spirit, or Source (you pick). I still had the habit of going for walks, but thankfully this time, I had been sober for many years.
The circumstances were similar: I went for a walk because I felt anxious. I was stressed about something that had happened the other night, and I needed to work it out. Less toxic energy came off me, but I still left a trail of discontent behind me. When I got to the end of the trail, it was time to turn around, but I wasn’t ready to go home.
So I just walked wherever I was guided. I found myself veering off the trail and into the woods. I had never done this before, as it would have gone against my best judgement, but I had given myself to a higher power.
At some point I came to a stop. There was nothing special about that place other than a sense to stop. I fell to my knees and called out “God, I don’t know what else to do…help me”. And then the second intervention happened…
The woods fell still and snow slowly descended
I was truly alone but somehow not alone. A peace settled into that spot and everything seemed to fall away. I stayed for some time, was visited by a squirrel, hugged a tree, felt unconditional love, and returned home a changed man.
Upon arriving at home, I felt compelled to write.
Birth to a poem
As anger faded into despair,
Snow descended in chilly air.
A blanket of peace fell soft and vast,
In the stillness, my troubles passed.
A squirrel appeared, spry and fleet,
the moment then, wholly complete.
Startled, it chirped and briefly stared
A short sliver of time we shared.
In that moment it spoke to me,
A language of the wild and free.
Unconditional love was the key,
“Go share this gift,” it said to me.
I pondered this, in quiet thought,
the message that the moment brought.
In time, I rose with a story to tell,
Leaving the woods where spirits dwell.
As I emerged with heart unfurled,
In harmony with nature’s world.
A gentle call seemed to say,
“Let love forever light your way.”