repost from message in a bottle: who are your eskimo angels?

This is such a timely post for me. It has only taken about 4 1/2 years for me to become irritating, annoying, and more than just a little arrogant in my sobriety. Time for me to re-arrange my thinking, to be sure. But more importantly, I need to let God to re-arrange my heart, for certainly in my heart I want to be an Eskimo Angel. I so appreciate this poignant post from Paul at Message In a Bottle.

Message in a Bottle

Not to scale Not to scale

He reeked of booze.  And BO.  I stood beside a man on the bus the other day.  His swollen and busted up face caught my attention.  He had a hospital band on his wrist.  His dead eyes said it all.  In his hand was a bag full of rattling Olde English malt liquor bottles.  He stared into the middle distance while I sized him up and took him in.  It was a reminder of where I came from and where I could be if I picked up again.  I wanted to hug him, to let him know that it didn’t have to be like that any more.  But I knew that look he had – long lost in his mind, his alcoholism, his perceived fate.  He was, at that moment, a shell of what he could be, what he was meant to be.  Was he one of…

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