Brent Orr

On May 25, 1983, I was 21. I was driving 90 miles an hour down 4th Street in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. It was 2 a.m. My headlights were off. Three police cars were in chase with their blue lights on. I got a DUI that night. It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was coming. It was also the best thing that ever happened to me. The next day, I was in rehab in Jackson. Then I went to a halfway house in Omaha, Nebraska. Both places saved my life. I haven’t had a drink since. Nothing stronger than an aspirin. That was forty-two years ago. Back then, I didn’t expect to live to 30. If I kept going the way I was, I wouldn’t have made it to 25. I had given up on myself. But God hadn’t. That made the difference. I wish someone had asked me then to write down what I hoped for in life. Just a list. A few honest thoughts about what a sober life might give me. I’d love to hold that list now, the one 21-year-old me might’ve written. I know I would’ve missed the mark and undershot what life has gifted me. By a lot. Because this life—this clean and sober life—has given me more than I ever thought to ask for. Not through merit. Through grace. Not things. Not money. Not status. The real stuff. Love. Peace. Real friends. Faith. A clear head. A good heart. A way to live. The relational things. The spiritual things. The strength to show up, day after day. That’s what matters. Life still brings problems. That’s life. But I’ve learned how to face them. I do my best to live in the solution now. If you’re caught up in alcohol or drugs, there’s a way out. There’s hope. If it worked for me, it can work for you. Call me anytime. 601-270-7129. And if you’re new in recovery, sit down and make that list. Write it all out. Everything you want from life. Dream bigger than you think you should. Fold the list and put it away. Stay sober. One day—five, ten, maybe forty-two years later—you’ll open that list and see how small it really was. And how big your life became. God can. God will. If sought. Onward. RSJ