I Was Made in God's Image and Man is He Pissed: When Surrendering Means Victory

By Randall Cline

At 9 years old I knew I was different, sought constant attention, and even in a room filled with people often felt alone. That would all change when alcohol and drugs entered my life at 15. Married and the father of a son at 18 years old, I never knew what was going to happen when I took that first drink. Reality was a difficult task and I had no use for it so I constantly lived in a fantasy world blaming everything, and everyone for my circumstances and shortcomings. There was no such thing as personal accountability or poor life choices, I saw myself as a victim constantly being dealt a bad hand. Through failed friendships, relationships, marriages, and even the thought of taking my own life, I couldn't stop drinking. On my knees in desperation crying, "Save me or take me, I cannot bear this pain any longer, and my loved ones do not deserve this, please help me, God." A miracle transpired and I have been blessed with over 32 years of continuous sobriety. This life is beyond my wildest dreams and it is my responsibility to pass the good news along to others that suffer from alcoholism and/or drug addiction. There is a life without alcohol and drugs for anyone who wants it. This new life will bring an indescribable freedom filled with joy, love, peace, and happiness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350938876

Randall Cline

SOBRIETY BIO Randall W. Cline is a native Floridian born and raised in Hollywood. He is currently semi-retired and sees himself as a restoration project that still needs work. Once a lost soul diagnosed with chronic alcoholism at the age of 28 years old, he managed to hit bottom, drop to his knees, raise the white flag and surrender. God heard his desperate cry for help and restored him to sanity. This relationship with God has allowed him to live a life beyond his wildest dreams. His accomplishments are a direct result of staying clean and sober for over 32 years and his reward is helping others that struggle with addiction find a new way of life. Some of his accomplishments since August 23rd 1991 are; participating father of 3 children, grandfather, loving husband, Youth Pastor Okeechobee United Methodist Church, Little League Baseball Coach, Youth Basketball Coach, Retired Navy Chief, ASIS Board Certified Physical Security Professional, Youth Pastor Key West United Methodist Church, Master of Science in Criminal Justice Degree from Saint Leo University, Retired GS-14 Federal Government employee, Substitute Teacher Okeechobee County, Committee Chair Okeechobee United Methodist Church, Background Investigator as a private contractor, Former Director of Men's Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Center and currently Vice President Board Member for House of Hope Wildwood Fl., Committee Chair for Wildwood United Methodist Church and small business owner of Peace of Mind by Cline, LLC., and Author.

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Randall W. Cline is a native Floridian born and raised in Hollywood. He is currently semi-retired and sees himself as a restoration project that still needs work. Once a lost soul diagnosed with chronic alcoholism at the age of 28 years old, he managed to hit bottom, drop to his knees, raise the white flag and surrender. God heard his desperate cry for help and restored him to sanity. This relationship with God has allowed him to live a life beyond his wildest dreams. His accomplishments are a direct result of staying clean and sober for over 32 years and his reward is helping others that struggle with addiction find a new way of life. Some of his accomplishments since August 23rd 1991 are; participating father of 3 children, grandfather, loving husband, Youth Pastor Okeechobee United Methodist Church, Little League Baseball Coach, Youth Basketball Coach, Retired Navy Chief, ASIS Board Certified Physical Security Professional, Youth Pastor Key West United Methodist Church, Master of Science in Criminal Justice Degree from Saint Leo University, Retired GS-14 Federal Government employee, Substitute Teacher Okeechobee County, Committee Chair Okeechobee United Methodist Church, Background Investigator as a private contractor, Former Director of Men’s Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Center and currently Vice President Board Member for House of Hope Wildwood Fl., Committee Chair for Wildwood United Methodist Church and small business owner of Peace of Mind by Cline, LLC., and Author.

I Was Made in God’s Image and Man is He Pissed

©2024 Randall Cline

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 979-8-35093-886-9

eBook ISBN 979-8-35093-887-6

This book is dedicated to the hundreds of men and women that have loved me unconditionally throughout my sobriety and during my active addiction. This journey has been, and still is, beyond my wildest dreams. To my wonderful wife and loving children that have always been supportive as I try to navigate through the insanity of addiction and share my experience, strength and hope with others that suffer from this deadly disease. This book is for everyone that feels different, unloved, don’t fit in, and are searching to find a happiness that seems allusive, or even impossible to obtain. All families are flawed, all people are imperfect, accepting and embracing this reality gives us identity. No one is the same, we all have contributions to make and even though some of them are negative, the impact is real. I pray this book helps others to rise above adversity and find the true meaning of faith, love, happiness and freedom. These gifts are obtainable, but most importantly, you deserve them.

Contents

Chapter 1 My First Drink

Chapter 2 Parental Divorce

Chapter 3 Grandmother and Grandfather

Chapter 4 Christian Youth Group

Chapter 5 Sports

Chapter 6 Goodbye Sports and Hello Alcohol

Chapter 7 Happy 16th Birthday

Chapter 8 Get a Haircut

Chapter 9 Working Boy

Chapter 10 High School

Chapter 11 Key Largo Camping Trip

Chapter 12 Wedding Day

Chapter 13 First Born

Chapter 14 Early Success

Chapter 15 From Legend to Loser

Chapter 16 Lower Than Whale Shit

Chapter 17 Navy A School

Chapter 18 Welcome to Gulfport

Chapter 19 Hostage Number Two

Chapter 20 Welcome to Philly

Chapter 21 Welcome to Scotland

Chapter 22 Let’s Get Married

Chapter 23 Let’s Promote the Drunk

Chapter 24 Welcome to San Diego

Chapter 25 Marijuana Maintenance Program

Chapter 27 Youth Pastor

Chapter 28 In the Navy Part II

Chapter 29 Welcome to Key West

Chapter 30 Old Stone United Methodist Church

Chapter 31 Key West High School Graduation

Chapter 32 Here Comes the Bride

Chapter 33 Welcome to the Nation’s Capital

Chapter 34 Retirement

Chapter 35 18 Months of Grieving

Chapter 36 Welcome to House of Hope

Chapter 37 Breathe Where Your Feet Are Planted

Chapter 38 Freedom

Chapter 1

My First Drink

I looked over at the bar my parents kept in our home, affectionally called the Squeeze Inn. I had witnessed small gatherings in this twelve-by-ten-foot room on several occasions. People always seemed happy, drinking the night away as cigarette and cigar smoke filled the room. I was always listening intently for the next dirty joke to be told so I could share it with my buddies at school.

The allure of the bar was overwhelming. Home alone, like most kids after school in those days, I thought I would see what all the fuss was about. Deep down inside I always felt there was something wrong with me but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I had lots of friends but I always felt alone.

This was a perfect opportunity to emulate my parents, their friends, and my older brothers. I looked out the window to make sure no one was coming, grabbed the bottle of Seagram’s 7, poured some into a shot glass, walked into the kitchen, filled a small glass with water for a chaser and proceeded to yell, Down the Hatch. I I had heard that said so many times at the Squeeze Inn it seemed appropriate at the time. It tasted awful and burned my throat. I immediately drank the water. I made sure I cleaned and dried the shot glass and returned it to its proper place. I was 9 years old.

Every time I hear Born with the Blues by George Jones and the line, Smoking and Drinking by the time I was Nine, I think of that moment. It is amazing to me how a song can take us to a specific event, an exact moment in time that brings us a crystal-clear memory, some happy and some sad, with such clarity.

I’m not sure exactly what happened next but I knew I felt different, a little disoriented perhaps but I liked the feeling. For another 26 years through broken relationships, broken promises and broken dreams I would chase that feeling to the gates of insanity, rehab, detox and near death.

Chapter 2

Parental Divorce

When I was around 5 or 6 years old one Christmas, I remember standing in the living room while my mom and dad were arguing about money. My dad would often barter for his plumbing expertise instead of payment in cash, or do work well below the going rate for his skill set. My mother also worked and she did not appreciate my father’s continued charity at his family’s expense. Things got pretty heated and for some reason my mom had picked up one of our new croquette mallets and threw it at my father. He ducked; she barely missed him. He did not say a word, looked at her and walked out of the house. They stayed together a few more years before finally divorcing. My brothers were 15 and 16 at the time. My oldest brother Sam was known in school, and around the neighborhood, as a tough guy, a hood. He had a ducktail haircut, cigarettes under his rolled-up white t-shirt, Levi blue jean jacket, and quick with his hands. He would throw down at the drop of a hat. Looking back, he was an angry young man. In retrospect he was probably acutely aware of the deteriorating and toxic relationship my parents now had.

One evening my father grounded Sam to his room for offensive remarks he had made to one of our neighbors. My father was angry and was having no part of that behavior, and noticeably embarrassed by the incident. It may be one of the few times I ever saw my father get really angry. After about an hour in his room my brother decided he was leaving the house and to do that, he had to go through my dad. My dad dismissed my brother’s reputation as a hood but my brother thought this was his time and that he could handle my dad physically, prove who was man of the house and have his way. He took a swing at my dad, he missed, my dad did not. He had knocked my brother flat on his ass with a short-left hook. My brother ran back to his room and never messed with my father again. I knew from that point on to never mistake my father’s soft-spoken mannerisms for weakness. He was generally quiet and never laid a hand on any of us for disciplinary measures, until that moment. Not so with my dad and his father. His childhood was less than ideal. His mother died when he was very young, his father was abusive and shipped my father, and his sister, to separate families when they were young teens. My father and his sister did not see each other for decades and were both deeply wounded from the tragic events of their childhood. My friend and author Reverend Dr. Michael Beck, describes how someone’s brokenness can become their superpower in his most recent book, Painting with Ashes. My father and his sister did exactly that to some degree.

I continue my journey of self-healing by staying clean and sober, trusting God and doing the next right thing. That may sound easy but for a recovering alcoholic it is anything but. Each new day brings me another opportunity to be an example that life can rise out of the ashes, hope from despair, faith from doubt and love from hate and resentment. It is important for me to remember that everyone has baggage, some just a carryon or backpack and others have a complete matching set of luggage that stores enough shit in it to last a lifetime. When I became willing, I was able to empty those bags, share with others what was inside, and free myself from the pain, shame, and fear that baggage had caused me for years.

During this tumultuous period of my life my mother started seeing Papa Al. I was 6 or 7 years old at the time. She would often meet with Papa Al and bring me with her so my father would not get suspicious. Papa was separated from his wife and living in an efficiency with a pool. They would let me swim on my own, unsupervised while they drank and spent time together. When my mother would take me home she would fabricate some story that we would rehearse to tell my father. Learning to lie at such an early