The way back for Ken

My mum raised me and my sister in the Catholic Church. My dad was an unbeliever until the bitter end. It wasn’t a harsh upbringing, but Dad was a difficult man to live with. He was a heavy drinker—what we’d call an alcoholic nowadays.

Surprisingly, I kept up my faith right up until I was in my late teens. I have always believed in God, but I had an unhealthy picture of him. I thought he was a stern headmaster, with a cane, a three-piece suit and a book of rules. I was scared of God, actually. But I never doubted he existed.

As soon as I could leave school at the age of 15, I followed my dad’s example. I got my first proper job at the freezing works in Hastings, where I was born and raised. That set the pace for me, working with older men. I was introduced to marijuana and a heavy boozing culture. The guys would use dope before work to get through the day and drink at night. My drinking rapidly went from weekends to every day. From the age of 15, I drank to get drunk.

I also had a love for motorbikes that I still have to this day, and got myself a good bike at quite a young age. So I rode with guys on the fringes of a bike club, and went to their clubhouse and partied with them. These older guys were my role models—they had nice cars, and all the stuff a young guy looks up to. I thought that drinking hard and playing hard was what it meant to be a man.

I still went to church every Sunday, even up to 18 years old. It was mainly a guilt thing, but the Lord was touching my heart along the way.

At that time, too, I met Barbara, who would become my wife. We met when we were 15. At 18 we started going out and at 23 we got married. To get married in the Catholic Church we had to do a series of classes. We both got a lot out of it, and the priest was a good guy who gave us great advice. My mum also died quite young, and the priest helped us through that. That had a big impact on us.

A new start

Barbara and I travelled around New Zealand on our honeymoon and ended up in Tauranga. We really liked it, so decided we would make a life for ourselves there. By this time I had my heavy traffic license and was building a career as a truck driver. It was a new start for us.  

When we had our first daughter, Barbara and I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this gift we had been given. That’s when we decided to look for a church that was Bible-based, so we started attending The Salvation Army Corps (church) in Tauranga. They welcomed us with open arms, and we just loved it from day one. We had two daughters by now, and got involved in children’s ministries. I drove a van around the ‘rough’ areas of Tauranga, picking up kids for Sunday school.

But I still had my vice. I took a nightshift job in trucking that gave me a lot of freedom, and my addiction got much worse. Some of the things I got away with would make your hair curl. It was part of the trucking culture. We had pubs that we called the ‘unofficial depot’, where we’d go between jobs. Sometimes you’d be waiting for five or six hours for your next job to come in—and you can imagine how much alcohol you can consume in that time! The older guys had been doing it all their lives and they set a hard pace.

Rock bottom

I was still an active dad and made sure I was home for dinner every night. We became adherents at church and even did a couple of soldiership (membership) classes. But, of course, I knew what was coming if I became a soldier—promising not to drink alcohol again—so I never went through with it. I was involved with Recovery Church, which is for people with addictions, but I wasn’t taking it on board for my own life.

The only way I can describe it is that the drink got the better of me. One time I had been up drinking and only had two hours’ sleep. I crashed my truck into the back of a trailer and damaged the cab quite badly. I went to my boss and said, ‘I need help.’ And he said, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it, you’ll be right.’ I was back at work the next day.

Although I always had a close relationship with my girls, I neglected my marriage. Barbara describes alcohol as my mistress. I spent weekends working on our lifestyle block, with a bottle in my hand. At night I would drink in the shed, while Barbara was inside. On more than one occasion I woke up at 3 am, having passed out in the shed.

I was always angry. Even as a boy, I was known to have a temper. And I don’t know whether anger made me drink, or drink made me angry, but I became a very bitter man. Many times when I got pulled up by the Police while I was driving, I got so riled up I would end up in handcuffs.

The only time I didn’t drink was on Sunday morning, because I knew others would be able to smell it on my breath at church.

My rock bottom came just after I got a new job. I got a supervisor’s position and I felt pretty pleased with myself. I had more flexibility, so one Friday afternoon I decided to leave at 1 pm, and went out drinking.

It was really stormy and I had decided to take my vintage bike—because as a drunk, my rationale was that the cops weren’t as likely to pull me over. By six at night, I was staggering drunk. I tried to get some fish and chips to take home as an apology. But some members of the public wrestled my keys off me and called the Police. I got processed and ended up spending the night in the cells.

Meanwhile, my wife and daughter were up until 2 am, desperate with worry—they knew I would be out drinking, and they knew I would be driving my vintage motorbike drunk on a stormy night. Finally they called the Police, who told them I was in the cells.

The sheer stupidity of what I had done finally hit home. And I felt horrible about how selfish I was to leave my wife and child sick with worry about me. I went home to Barbara and said, ‘This has to stop.’

The Way Back

I made contact with our corps officers, Stephen and Denise Crump, and revealed the secret I had been keeping. They were completely supportive and handled our situation with total integrity. They talked to us about the next steps—I was already involved in Recovery Church, which helped—and I asked for counselling.

The next Monday, I went to my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I knew straight away that I was with people who understood what I was going through. All I could see was a long life ahead of me without drinking—I worried about my sister’s 50th birthday coming up and getting through Christmas. But AA gave me some basic tools like ‘one day at a time’ and ‘don’t pick up the first drink’. I felt I could follow these basic rules.

It’s a journey and I’m a slow learner. But one day at a time, that’s how you do it. I could only get through the day by handing it all over to God every day, and all through the day. The Bible tells us to pray constantly—and that’s something I tried to do and still do today. My prayers changed from ‘God help me’, to ‘God, teach me how to build a relationship with you.’

That’s when God started to change my perspective of him. In the Old Testament I read about how much God loved the Israelites, and even though they kept throwing it in his face, God was still faithful to them. I felt like the Israelites. All my life I had tested God, and in his love for me he had been faithful, and even protected me from myself.

By doing it one day at a time, I was able to get through the early challenges. I hated going out with my biker friends and not drinking, so I gave it up and kept the bike in the shed for a while.

At my sister’s 50th birthday, I didn’t drink—but I still got up and did karaoke and had a good time. No one believed that I wasn’t drunk. I offered to drive the others home, but no one would come; they didn’t trust that I hadn’t been drinking.

I heard so much sorrow in AA from people who had lost their family and ruined relationships through drink. I could have been in the same situation, but God protected me from that. I could have killed people through drink-driving, but by God’s grace I never hurt anyone.  

Handing it over

The first year of my recovery was awesome. I had climbed out of a pit. I got involved in serving others, and became more involved in Recovery Church. After six months sober, I told my story at Recovery Church for the first time.

The second year of my recovery I was really angry. I didn’t want to drink, but I was really angry that I couldn’t drink. I realised that I had been ‘white-knuckling’ it—I had been trying to stay sober by my own willpower, and it was making me angry. So I started really working the 12 Steps of AA. I started making amends and ‘keeping my side of the street swept clean’. Each night, to this day, I reflect on my day and make amends where I need to.

Most of all, I realised I could not do it in my own strength.

I always—as soon as I wake up—hand my will and my life over to God. I can only remember once not doing that, and I had a terrible day.

Whether it’s a work situation, or a customer who is unpleasant, everything has become the Lord’s, not mine, to deal with. Consequently, life has got really good. I have found my peace, and I’m very rarely in a bad mood.

When I was finally ready to fully hand my will over to God, I signed my soldiership papers, meaning that I became part of The Salvation Army.

Barbara and I moved to Lower Hutt last year, after 29 years in Tauranga, to be closer to our daughters and two grandchildren. We have found a vibrant church family at Upper Hutt Salvation Army Corps.

After years working long truck-driving shifts, I’ve finally got a 40-hour-a-week job. I rock up to work and do my job, without resenting my employees. I’ve got this freedom—and the guys at work have said, ‘I want what Ken’s got.’

Not my will

In May this year (2016), I will be six years sober. I’m still a work in progress—there are still people I need to make amends to and I did a lot of damage to my family. But it’s improving every day. Barbara has helped me so much in my recovery.

I tell people at AA that you can’t get well just by following the rules. You have to surrender your life to God.

For me, when I think about Jesus, I think about his complete surrender to God. The word that comes to mind is ‘obedience’. It makes me almost weep when I think of Jesus, the night before his death, praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, ‘God, not my will, but yours be done.’

That kind of surrender to God is what brings life. Jesus had to die, to rise again and gain victory. It’s the same with all of us. I had to completely die to myself—my addiction, my will—to find freedom from the drink. And to find the personal relationship with Jesus that brings true freedom.

I used to try and earn brownie points with God, but now I know he’s always on my side.

• If you'd like help to get sober or come off drugs, contact one of our Bridge centres.

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as told to Ingrid Barratt (c) 'War Cry' magazine, 19 March 2016, pp 5-6
You can read 'War Cry' at your nearest Salvation Army church or centre, or subscribe through Salvationist Resources.