The Night My Husband Got Sober

The Years of Disconnection

Fortunately—or unfortunately—over the past two years, the boys and I ate our meals, attended church, camped, rode horses, skied, took vacations, played, and slept without Daddy. My husband and I had developed separate lives.

The boys and I formed community and friendships that my husband rarely participated in anymore. He lived with us in the big, big house without connecting.

You see, my saying “I don’t know” to the boys' question, Where is Daddy? had become a normal routine. The boys, then 4 and 6 years old, just accepted it. Spending several nights away from home with these dear friends also became a normal routine over those years.

As I sat breathing on Christmas morning, watching the boys open their presents with delight, I thought, We are warm and safe. My friends never let on that Christmas Day, my distressed now-sober husband was blowing up their phones with calls and texts. (His lawyer had promised him a Christmas visit with the boys, but that wasn’t communicated to my lawyer.)

A Somber Sober Christmas

While I sat taking air in, letting air out, smiling and watching my boys open the presents my friends had retrieved from the Big, Big House, God insulated me from the battle raging inside my husband’s mind.

A no-contact restraining order issued by the court on December 21 meant silence until after the New Year. Court systems shut down for the holidays, so there would be no changes to the judge’s orders until January. Ten long, quiet winter days to breathe.

I didn’t know that the night my husband got sober, he walked into an AA meeting and said, “I am not leaving this meeting without a sponsor.” That was his first clear action step toward saving his life and our family.

As I went through my days reminding myself to take air in and let air out, God continued to move mightily in my husband’s life, without me. Looking at it now, with a few years’ distance, I wonder if I hindered God from answering my most desperate prayers.

My Efforts to Create a Sober Family

Like someone trying to shore up a sandcastle with the tide coming in, I tried desperately to maintain a family life. For years, I had pressured my husband into family meals, family activities, and family outings—most of which failed miserably. I defended him and berated him, all in the same breath, before friends, family, and God.

I focused for years on making this marriage work—no matter the cost. Like a wind-up toy, I hopped around trying everything to create the family I wanted. God waited for my inevitable exhaustion.

Although I cried out to God for this dream family, I was unwilling—or unable—to get out of the way—to let go and let God. Then, God moved me out of the way.

He moved me to a place where just taking in the very gift of breath He placed in me became work. Performing the simple, automatic task of taking air in and letting air out now took so much concentration that controlling anyone other than myself proved impossible.

I simply let go.

My Husband Got Sober—My Recovery Got Serious

Take air in, let air out. I surrendered my marriage, my thoughts, my very being to the one who created me. I even surrendered my precious boys to the care of their heavenly Father. I had no answers, no plans, no desires those ten days.

My body moved through the automatic routines of work and home—helped by my dear friends—while my mind and spirit went to home base: to the pneuma, the ruach, the breath of God that lives in all of us.

Take air in, let air out. Separated from the turmoil, I now only needed to breathe. Even weeping left me for a time.

Breathing was seeking God.
Breathing was sustaining life.
Breathing was setting my husband free.
Breathing was me.

A Final Word

The night my husband got sober, I didn’t cause it; I couldn’t control it. Only God could transform him.

My dear friend, if you are in a moment like this, breathe. All my pushing, prodding, anger, and destructive behavior never produced any desire for my husband to get sober. Only God can transform another person. And even God will only do that if the person consents to the transformation.

God opened my husband’s eyes to the destruction in his life—not me. My efforts were vain and misguided—as the 11th step says: Seeking only for His will and the power to carry that out.

If I wanted the family I always dreamed of with a sober husband, I needed to trust God and get to work on me!