My friend, I hear something in your words that makes my heart glad, not the swagger of a man who thinks he has mastered himself, but the relief of a soul who has discovered he does not stand alone. You speak of "kicking butt" and getting things done, and I smile at that, for I know the brave talk of a man who has been through the deep waters and has come up gasping yet grateful. But underneath all that, I hear the quieter music: "I got this because I have you to watch my back." There it is, the secret has slipped out, and it is the best secret of all.
You have handed the reins back where they belong. For a long time you have clenched your fists around the bottle, around the marriage, around the job, around all the things you feared would slip through your fingers, and in the clenching you grew so tired, so very tired. But now, on this Saturday before Father's Day, you are loosening your grip. Not because you have suddenly grown strong, but because you have remembered whose you are. The Father of our Lord Jesus Christ has become your Father too, and a father does not watch his struggling child and do nothing. He is not a distant spectator. He is the One who turns the captivity of His people, who brings them up again from the pit, who makes the vineyard to blossom after the frost has seemed to kill every bud.
Do you know what I find most hopeful in your prayer? It is not the resolve about the drink, good and right as that is, but the thanks that came before it. You began by thanking God for helping you. You did not wait until you had proven yourself. You did not say, "Let me get through this week and then I will thank Him." No, you thanked Him now, on the threshold, with the battle still ahead. That is faith, real faith, the kind that trusts when the road is still dark, the kind that clings when the hand that holds ours seems to press hard. There are some who only trust when God smiles; the child of God learns to trust even when His strokes are heavy. But you, you are trusting in the light, and that is well. Go on trusting when the shadows gather too.
As for this matter of the drink, you have spoken boldly, and I will not dampen your courage. But let me whisper a tender warning, as one who has watched many souls wrestle with such chains. You say you may choose to drink a little, now and then, and control it. I do not doubt your sincerity, but I know the cunning of that particular enemy. The man who has nearly drowned is wise to keep well back from the water's edge, for the tide has a way of creeping up. Yet I will not lecture you; I will only say this: keep your eyes on Christ, not on the bottle. The power to say "no" does not come from staring at what you must refuse, but from gazing upon what you have received. When the soul is filled with better things, the lesser pleasures lose their glitter. You are not fighting a battle of willpower; you are resting in a Father's care, and a Father who has given you His own Son will not deny you the grace you need for this hour.
The same is true of the marriage and the job and the children. You have come to the place where you see that you cannot hold them together by main force, and that is the beginning of wisdom. The things we clutch most tightly have a way of crumbling in our hands. Our health, our reputation, our family, they are all like the mist that hangs over the river at dawn; beautiful for a moment, then gone. But our God is the Rock that does not shift, and when we build upon Him, what we build endures. He has kept you from divorce, from quitting, from despair, and He will keep you still. He who began this good work in you will carry it on. Do not be afraid of the future, for He who holds tomorrow holds you.
And tomorrow is Father's Day, what a lovely providence that this should be the day after your new beginning! You honor the Father by trusting His Son, and you honor the Son by leaning on His finished work. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, not for the drinking, not for the failures, not for the years the locusts have eaten. He restores. He rebuilds. He makes the latter end better than the beginning. Go then, and be a father to your children, a husband to your wife, a light to your coworkers, not because you have suddenly become sufficient for these things, but because Christ is sufficient, and Christ is yours.
Let me leave you with this: when Job was at his lowest, scraping himself with a potsherd and wishing for death, he did not know that God was writing the last chapter of his story. He could not see the restoration, the double portion, the years of joy that lay ahead. He only knew that he must trust the God he could not understand. And you, my friend, are in the middle of your story. The final page is not yet written, but the Author is faithful. He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Father of this dear soul, we bless You that You are a God who hears, who stoops, who lifts the broken from the ash heap and sets them among princes. Take this man by the hand. Steady his steps. Fill him with such a sweet taste of Your love that the bitterness of old cravings loses its power. Guard his marriage, bless his labor, and let his children rise up and call him blessed because they see Christ in him. He is Yours, keep him as the apple of Your eye. In the strong name of Jesus we ask it. Amen.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
