Metanoia

A spiritual experience

This is day 5 of my Lenten journey. If you are just joining me, welcome aboard.

Bill W., one of the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous, a group that has saved millions from the ravishes of alcoholism, described what he calls a “spiritual awakening.”

“. . . I fell into a very deep depression, the blackest that I had ever known. And in that desperation, I cried out, “If there is a God, will He show Himself?” Then came a sudden experience in which it seemed the room lit up. It felt as though I stood on the top of a mountain, that a great clean wind blew, that I was free. The sublime paradox of strength coming out of weakness.” ~ [Source]

From that experience, Bill gained the power to become free from addiction to alcohol.

Have you ever had such a powerful experience — one that catapults you from the depths of despair to the heights of elation? Many have. There’s a name for it: Metanoia.

Metanoia, a transliteration of the Greek μετάνοια, means after-thought or beyond-thought, with meta meaning “after” or “beyond” (as in the modern word “metaphysics”) and nous meaning “mind” (as in the modern world “paranoia”). It is commonly understood as “a transformative change of heart; especially a spiritual conversion.” [Source]

A while back a pastor friend recounted to a small group how he had gone to bed totally defeated only to arise the next morning feeling on top of the world.

Many can attest to such experiences and the power they have to transform a person’s life. Bill W. refers to God as his Higher Power. He leaned frequently on that power to avoid taking another drink and plunging back into that dark pit of insanity from which he had emerged. Back in the 30s when Bill was struggling there wasn’t much help or hope for alcoholics.

The best hope available revolved around having a spiritual awakening or conversion. Having such an experience can be the greatest gift a person can receive. Addicts cherish it. Most mark their recovery from that day.

However, for many of us no room full of bright light ever occurs. Still, we experience a gradual growing awareness. Little signs here and there along the path point to something we can’t see but which we can feel. We know some power greater than ourselves directs our lives. Things work out better. The road becomes smoother. We feel better. Depression lifts. We begin to see the beauty surrounding us. Other people matter more. Our loved ones feel closer. Hope flourishes. Painful memories subside. We have a new lease on life.

I don’t know if you’ve had an experience like that, but if you have, you know what I’m talking about. It happens and leaves you changed for life.

My awakening came twenty years ago as I lay strapped to my bed in the mental ward of a hospital twenty years ago. I’d been taking the prescription anti-depressant Zoloff. It produced extreme anxiety and my doctor advised me to stop taking it. He said he would call in another prescription. I went into a deep depression with hallucinations. It took me several days to recover any sense of normalcy. Everything seemed dark and threatening.

Lying on that bed with nothing to do but look up at the ceiling and ponder my circumstances, a verse from the Bible kept running through my head:

“Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10)

I had nothing to do but be still. In fact, after the torment I’d felt the last few days and being under some pretty heavy medication, I felt quite happy to just lie there and rest and ponder. It embarrassed me to have one of the nurses’ aides feed me, but what could I do? I’d never felt so helpless.

After a few days, in which I humbled myself and made some craft projects, my new doctor discharged me, and sent me home with a bag full of medications. Sanity gradually returned (by the way, you know the definition of insanity, right? Loss of contact with reality.) In other words, I got back in touch with reality.

That Bible verse kept popping up in my thoughts. Being still was not something my anxiety permitted. In fact, I went to the doctor once complaining about the muscles in my forearm aching. Tracing back to the cause I realized I had been squeezing a small relaxation ball hundreds of times a day. No wonder my arms ached. But it helped me keep calm enough to sit and get the therapy I needed.

My recovery began on July 10, 2001. On that day I found two dimes in the parking lot of the facility where I went to participate in group therapy. I took those dimes as a sign from God that I would recover. For years afterward, I’d often find dimes, some in very strange places, on the floor of a gym I was sweeping, under a park bench, on the floor of the local mall where my wife and I went to walk, by a log in the woods. At one point I had a small Baggie filled with several dozen dimes I’d found. They served as good reminders for me of where I’d been and how far I’d come. I looked on them as ‘God Winks’ (a term I borrowed from Squire Rushnell.

Even if we’ve had a metanoia, we need periodic reminders and encouragement to keep on moving down the new path.

For me, those reminders now come each morning as I sit quietly, read from a couple of daily devotion books, and do some journaling. Occasionally, I get other forms of encouragement. Lately, my wife has been finding dimes, too. She always gives them to me when she does. They remind us to be grateful for the day and the grace we’ve been granted.

Thank you Trista Ainsworth for inspiring this journey and to the many friends and fellow writers following along.

Blessings on you, my friends, this day.

Happy Reading, Writing, and Connecting.

The journey began here

The last installment is here