Keep the Change

Sometimes the improvements we make in our lives are the result of years of focus and hard work. But at other times even drastic changes can feel almost effortless because they happen naturally and easily; everything lines up just right to create a situation where change is almost inevitable. I had an experience like that several years ago. I was up late one night when my wife, who had been sleeping, walked downstairs and said to me, "I just had a dream that you died in a car accident." Then she went back to bed, and the next morning she didn't remember the dream or getting up to talk to me. I could have dismissed her words as the mere ravings of a somnambulist, but somehow they sunk deeply into my heart and I began to ponder my own mortality. During the next several months I made some important changes in my life, and I became a better person as a result.

Some time later I read something in the novel "A Perfect Day" by Richard Paul Evans that caught my attention: "...there's a case history of a man who got the wrong test back from a hospital lab. His doctor told him that he was dying from a rare disease. This man was a well-known business executive who had fallen off the moral deep end. He was cheating on his wife. He had a college-aged son whom he hadn't seen for years. And he was embezzling from his company's pension fund. When he found out that he was dying, he went through a complete reformation as he set about putting his life in order. He went back to his wife and asked for her forgiveness. He went to his son and developed a relationship with him. He paid back the pension fund with interest, and as his final penance he turned himself in to the company officers. Eight months later, when the lab discovered their mistake, the story made the papers. A reporter asked this man if he planned on suing the hospital. His response was classic. He said, 'Why? They did what they're supposed to do. They saved my life.'"

The changes I made were by no means as drastic as those made by the man in this story, but my motivation was the same: I recognized the reality of my mortality, and I saw my life with new eyes. Here's the sad part, though. After a few years I slipped back into my old routines and became the person I had been before.

Looking back, I believe I made two key mistakes. First, I thought I had changed so completely and thoroughly that recidivism was an absolute impossibility. I don't drink alcohol, but I think this mistake might be comparable to a recovering alcoholic deciding that he is strong enough to go back to bars and start hanging out with his alcohol-drinking friends again. The truth is that no one is that strong, and certain lifestyle changes must be perpetual in order for lasting change to occur. The second mistake I made was underestimating the entrenched nature of my behavior, which is equivalent to an alcoholic refusing to admit that he is an alcoholic. I thought a metaphorical band-aid would address the issue when I really needed stitches.

Fortunately, I've been given a second chance. Through a combination of hard work and grace I'm back to where I want to be, and this time I understand that constant effort and vigilance will be required to "keep the change." I may experience setbacks, and some days will certainly be easier than others--but I'll keep fighting until the day I die. Then, and only then, will I be able to rest.