I had hit rock bottom that night. Everything that mattered to me was gone. I had been fired from my job, kicked out by my wife, and even my dog had run away. The only thing that kept me going was the bottle of whiskey that I carried in my coat pocket. It was my only friend, my only comfort, and my only escape.
I decided to go out and find a place to drown my sorrows; maybe I could meet a friendly lady who could make me forget my troubles for a while. I didn’t care where I went, as long as they had booze and music. I just wanted to numb the pain and feel something else, anything else.
I walked around the town, looking for a bar that was open. It was snowing hard, and the wind was blowing like a banshee. I could barely see where I was going. The cold was biting into my skin, but I didn’t feel it. I was too drunk to feel anything.
I stumbled upon a sign that said “The Oasis”. It looked like a cozy place, with a warm glow coming from the windows. I could hear some piano music playing inside. It sounded nice, soothing, and inviting. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The first thing I noticed was that the place was empty. There was no one behind the bar, no one at the tables, no one on the stage. It was like a ghost town. The second thing I noticed was that there was no alcohol. The shelves behind the bar were filled with books, not bottles. The tables had chess boards, not coasters. The stage had a piano, not a jukebox. I felt like I had entered the Twilight Zone.
“Hello?” I called out, hoping to find someone who could explain this weird situation. “Is anyone here?”
No answer. I walked around the place, looking for a clue. I saw a sign that said, “Welcome to The Oasis, a sober sanctuary for recovering addicts. We offer a safe and supportive environment for anyone who wants to quit drinking or using drugs. We have meetings, workshops, counseling, and entertainment. We are open 24/7, no matter the weather. Come in and join us; you are not alone.”
I felt a surge of anger and disappointment. This was not what I was looking for. This was not what I needed. I needed a drink, not a lecture. I needed a woman, not a counselor. I needed a party, not a meeting. I turned around and headed for the door, ready to leave this place and find a real bar.
But the door was locked. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. I looked outside and saw that the snow had piled up against the door, blocking it from the outside. I was trapped. I was trapped in a bar that didn’t serve alcohol, with no one to talk to, no one to help me, no one to save me.
I started to panic. I felt like I was suffocating. I needed to get out of here. I needed to find a way out. I looked around for a window, a back door, a fire escape, anything. But there was nothing. The place was sealed like a tomb.
I screamed. I screamed for help, for mercy, for God. But no one heard me. No one came. No one cared.
I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. I felt like I had hit rock bottom. I had nothing left. Nothing but the bottle of whiskey in my coat pocket.
I reached for it, hoping to find some comfort, some relief, some escape. I unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to my lips.
But before I could take a sip, I heard a voice.
“Hello, friend. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I looked up and saw a man standing in front of me. He was tall and thin, with a long beard and a friendly smile. He wore a white robe and sandals. He had a halo around his head and a pair of wings on his back.
He was an angel.
He reached out his hand and said, “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
I was too stunned to speak. I was too scared to move. I was too curious to resist.
I took his hand and followed him.
He led me to the stage, where the piano was. He sat down on the bench and gestured for me to sit next to him.
He said, “Do you like music?”
I nodded, not knowing what else to do.
He said, “Music is a gift from God. It can heal the soul, lift the spirit, and inspire the heart. It can also reveal the truth—the truth about yourself, the truth about your life, the truth about your destiny.”
He placed his fingers on the keys and began to play.
He played a song that I knew. A song that I loved. A song that I hated.
He played my song.
He played the song of my life.
He played the song of how I was born, how I grew up, how I fell in love, how I got married, how I had a son, how I lost him, how I started drinking, how I ruined everything, and how I ended up here.
He played the song of my past, my present, and my future.
He played the song of my joy, my sorrow, and my pain.
He played the song of my hope, my despair, and my redemption.
He played the song of my death, my judgment, and my salvation.
He played the song of my heaven, my hell, and my purgatory.
He played the song of my God, my devil, and my angel.
He played the song of me.
He played the song of the truth.
And as he played, I saw. I saw everything. I saw myself. I saw my life. I saw my fate.
I saw the truth.
And the truth set me free.
