SOBRIETY: IT’S NOT ABOUT THE CELLAR | It’s About the Savior
Some miracles happen in an instant. Others take a little longer to arrive.
I set my wine glass down on July 1, 2019, only to keep picking it up again and again.
Then, on September 21, 2025, six years later, I handed the wine to Jesus and walked away.
Today, I celebrate one full year of that long surrender.
No one understands what a miracle that was.
By most people’s standards, I didn’t drink too much.
Life wasn’t perfect, but it was good.
The knobby-kneed schoolgirl once chased from her hometown by bullies grew up and returned to redeem what was lost.
We lived steps away from Main Street, in a historical farmhouse with a wine cellar built underneath. People entered through its trap door as strangers and climbed out as new friends.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.
Wine flowed like blessings night after night; I was finally living the dream.
But as time went on, I fell into a nightmare that no one else could see.
I wrestled with the One True God.
Little lines were crossed; compromises strung together.
My words and thoughts began to slide and slur into a person I barely recognized.
One morning I opened the Bible to Romans 12:2:
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
Jesus said, “Honey, drinking’s getting in the way of who I created you to be.”
Though I knew He was right, I didn’t stop. I didn’t know how.
“No, Lord. It’s too hard.” I shut my Bible, tears streaming down.
Because fitting in with the crowd, comfortably numb, was easier than awkwardly standing apart for Jesus.
I lived with a divided heart until a series of urgent calls undid me.
A young girl looking for hope.
A distraught sister seeking prayer.
A matriarch gone too soon with no one to replace her.
And I was in no shape to answer those calls.
I hated myself for that, but Jesus wasn’t done loving me.
That’s the amazing thing about God’s grace—the gifts He gives and the call He makes on our lives are irrevocable.
No amount of wine can drown out His voice when Jesus speaks our name.
Then came September 21, when I witnessed three baptisms and a funeral. Somewhere between the water and the grave, I finally said, “Yes, Lord.”
He threw open the trap door, too heavy to lift, and let His light shine in.
Jesus doesn’t take away good dreams. He gently wakes us to the best ones.
The dream He’s held for us since the beginning.
To live and move and have our being in step with the Spirit of the Living God.
To the sons far off and the daughters barely getting by, He calls every exiled heart home, out of the darkness and into His glorious light.
One day, you’ll sing the song of the redeemed.
“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.”
(Psalm 126:1)
That’s what you call living the dream.
No matter the distance. No matter the cost. No matter how many times you pick it up or lay it down.
God’s dream for you comes true.
Every exiled heart returns home.
Nothing can separate you from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus your Lord.
I know because here I am, home at last, my wine glass fully surrendered.
One year down, and by God’s grace, a thousand more surrendered days to go.
It was never about the cellar.
It’s all about the Savior.
Let every tongue and heart clearly praise Him.
Jesus is worthy of it all.
“Then it was said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’ The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” (Psalm 126:2-3)