The following happened to me over a month ago. I haven't sat down and typed it all out until now.
I was getting ready to go to a friend's baby shower. I had been invited to a friends' house afterwards. They were providing food, and I was providing the beer.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and tell you what is right or wrong when it comes to alcohol. I'm only going to recount the events that transpired that day.
The night before I had bought the beer. I was excited to be spending the day and evening with friends. But as I was getting ready, I realized that I was becoming more and more uncomfortable drinking beer. I wondered if I needed to cancel dinner with my friends that evening, since I felt to uneasy.
I stopped brushing my hair and looked at myself in the mirror. "I am willing to do that, God. I'll come home after the baby shower."
I heard the Holy Spirit say, "No, you can go, but leave at nine."
I went to the shower. I went to my friends' place. We ate, played cards, drank beer. I was uneasy. I was taking pictures, and we realized that the pictures showed the beer bottles on the table. We didn't want to put those pictures on Facebook. We moved the bottles. I took more pictures. I became more uneasy.
I left at nine.
I arrived home, and walked down the hallway to my room.
Dad was suddenly walking behind me. "Jenny, I want to talk to you about something."
I could tell right away that he had been thinking a lot about whatever he was about to say.
I turned to face him. "Okay, what is it?"
He then talked to me, in the gentle and nonjudgmental way that only my dad seems to be able to say things, about my drinking. He said that he didn't think that it was a good idea, and that he didn't see the point in my doing it. He had been a drinker once, and he knew why most people did it and where it led.
I stood there and nodded my head as he talked, feeling my throat close up.
When he finished, he said, "I know that you have to learn these things on your own, but I wanted to let you know what I thought. I love you."
"Thanks, I love you too." And I quickly retreated to my room, and began to cry.
As soon as I made it to my room and let the tears fall, I knew that this was one of the things Mister Rogers had said in my dream. Being a man called to work with children, and therefore be an example for them, Mister Rogers lived to love and serve. I have the same calling, and I began to realize the weight of my actions. I knew why I was becoming more and more uneasy whenever I drank. The questions that I would ask myself...mainly, "Why am I doing this?" were instantly replaced with "I will not do this. I know that I do not need this."
The way that God orchestrated the whole thing is what made me cry, because I felt so loved and so taken care of after Dad talked to me. That morning as I was getting ready, my thoughts to stop drinking beer were all coming from a sense of obligation, which would have meant acting under a law, a spirit of death, believing I was a sinner who needed to repent, when I am already SO free.
That evening by leaving at nine and arriving right before Dad went to sleep for the night, Dad was able to be an instrument in my conviction to stop drinking. I felt no anger from God for not stopping drinking sooner, only a loving hand guiding me to stop at exactly the right moment. If I had not experienced that love and truth in that right moment, my reason for not drinking anymore would have only been an obligation to my unexplained guilt. Now I experience a freedom instead of guilt. I experience a freedom to give myself to my calling to children without resentment. I know that I want to be God's instrument in their lives as much as Dad is in mine.
