HOW IT WORKS....
I was so sick; soul-sick inside,
When I came tearing through those doors,
And two months later, I still ain't well,
But, I'm a helluva lot better'n I was.
I don't pretend to understand it all;
I doubt if I ever will;
But, when I stumbled and started to fall,
There was Walt, Jim, Arch, Al and Paul.
With understanding, and a kind of tough love,
You handed me from one to another;
Knowing that when I'd had enough,
I'd get down and get right with The Father.
And so, you pushed, prayed, talked and cared;
You knew I'd not make it alone;
You held on to me, until I got there;
Thank you God, for dialing that phone!
At six in the morning, Walt gave his all,
Then gave me to Jim who said, "tell it again";
And when I did, Jimmy stood like a rock;
Lord, bless forever those two of Your flock.
Three hours later when I couldn't but cry;
Here comes Arch like a hard-driving' wind;
I'd decided you see, that it'd be easier to die,
By way of my own trembling hand.
Maybe he'd been there, maybe not, but he knew
Dying was the next thing on my list to do,
He knew he had to think fast and reach deep,
And also, yell....very loud to get through.
"Pray for God's will!" he yelled in the phone.
"Ask for strength, and His guidance too!
Do it, damnit! You're not alone you know;
Pray for God's will to carry you through!"
But...? "Move lady! Get up off you butt!
Do something, anything! Pray while you do it!
I know it hurts. I know it's rough!
But damnit! You're gonna live through it!"
"And GET OVER HERE, for the six o'clock!
If you don't do nothing else," he ordered.
I said that I'd try, then hung up the phone
And realized, I'd forgotten the prayer offered.
I grabbed the phone, called back and asked again,
"Tell me please what I'm to say when I pray?"
In my state of confusion, I was a child just then,
And in a gentler voice I heard Arch say....
"It don't matter how you say it, girl,
Just ask for God's will to be done;
Say the words our loud, get busy, keep praying';
His strength and His guidance will come."
I moved; I prayed; I don't know what I did;
But I prayed for God's will while I did it;
And then in awhile, when it was slipping again,
Big Al called, with an insight I needed.
Al took me fact-facing, through another hour,
Then later, when I started dragging bottom again,
The phone rang, and there was Paul to tell me
He couldn't make the meetin'; needed a friend.
"I've gotta go to work. I'm late now," he growled,
As hurried and hassled as always,
"I need ya to come where I work, won'tcha gal?
I need a meetin', but can't go today."
I first said no, but he wouldn't accept it;
Though I told him I was in no condition.
"I've gotta go now, I'm late as it is!
You be there, damnit," his last admonition.
You selfish bastard! I thought to myself.
I'm hurtin', I can't help YOU now!
But, remembering the `New Beginning' he'd helped
Me have...I knew I had to get there somehow.
Cryin' mad, I headed for Grandpa's,
Where the workalcoholic asshole was working,
And together we walked the floor, me and Paul;
Him a`smiling', helpin' me...and hurtin'.
He laughed, called me `sweet motorcycle trash',
And tho', himself, an explosive of guilt and grief,
Gave me hugs, and a `Footprints' calendar at last,
And made me promise to head for Clark Street.
I made it. Then, hurt `til I near died inside,
When at noon the next day, his big ol' heart burst.
It wasn't `til then that I learned how he'd hurt;
All the while he'd helped me, HIS pain was the worst.
I was back; I'd found God; I'd been hurt but I knew
The love of my brothers was strong.
I'd reached out my hand; they'd stood true-blue;
Until God had righted the wrong.
Another day passed, then Arch disappeared;
Hell, he was hurtin' much as Paul and me.
And yet, he'd stood strong, calming my fears
On that day when I was in need.
We made it back, each with stories untold;
It's many days past now, and we al survived.
Paul's healing. Arch is back from his hellhole,
And of course, I'm still alive.
The A.A. way? This....is `how it works';
Don't let anyone tell you it's not.
It's truly just a buncha' damned ol' drunks,
Learning to live, between the hard-knocks.
Thanks Al, dear Walt and brother Jimmy, too;
I do love you each one of your separate selves.
And Arch? Remember...if not for you,
I'd a' been gone before Paul coulda' helped.
Boo