I identify with the story about the guy stranded on an iceberg floating out to sea. As he was praying for God to save him, an Eskimo came by in a kayak and suggested if he jumped in, he would row him to safety. No thanks, he said. God would save him. The guy dies and when he gets to heaven, he asks God why he didn't save him. God replied that he sent him an Eskimo in a kayak, but he wasn't ready.
My Eskimo was a massage therapist named Bill S. Thirty plus years ago, Bill came to my home weekly to iron out the inks in my super stressed-out body. Bill showed up at 5:30 PM just as I arrived home from the office. Sometimes he had to wait a few minutes while I gulped down a couple of quick scotches - to get relaxed enough to be massaged.
Bill had something I wanted. I didn't know what it was at the time, but today I know he had Spirit working in his life. He was friendly, kind and seemed stress free. As he worked on me, he told me his story. Just seven years earlier he had been homeless on the streets in Venice Beach, CA. Now he was married to a woman who held a big corporate job. Bill had a nice car and they owned a home. “What did you do to change?” I asked. “I sobered up in AA,” he said. And went on to talk about his experiences. I acted interested, but I really wasn't. The next week he brought me a Big Book. I skimmed the first 164 pages and a few of the stories in the back, then promptly gave it to a friend who really needed it.
Fast forward a few months. The big-paying job was gone and my marriage was breaking up. I decided to quit drinking as an experiment. The next time Bill came over, I told him I wasn’t drinking. “Do you want to go to a meeting?” He asked. I reluctantly went along to prove to myself AA was not for me. It was a large speaker meeting and I was right. Not for me.
I struggled for the next six years and floated further and further out to sea. Finally Grace let me see how pathetic my life had become. I was forty seven years old, unemployed again and living on borrowed money. I had no friends except the lower companions I met at the bar every afternoon for "happy" hour. The pain continued to ratchet up until I finally became willing to be changed and thanks to my Eskimo, Bill, I knew exactly where to go.