Reason to Celebrate
Through a new
ministry in
Knoxville, a
former teacher
battles addiction.
By Annette Bender
Mike Zukowski remembers the first time he visited Cokesbury United Methodist Church for Sunday worship in late June. A newspaper clipping on a bulletin board caught his eye.
Zukowski stopped to read the article, written about a former Holston pastor who developed an addiction to prescription drugs and surrendered his ministerial credentials. The former minister was Gil Smith, who overcame his addiction to start a new program at Cokesbury called Celebrate Recovery.
"I had tears in my eyes," says Zukowski,
remembering the newspaper story. "I could
not believe someone had fallen that far and
was coming back."
And then, Zukowski felt a hand on his
shoulder. It was Ed Eldridge, a retired
Holston minister who also was visiting
Cokesbury that day.
"He knew I was in trouble," Zukowski said. "I had my back to him. I turned around and we talked. He told me more about Celebrate Recovery."
Zukowski pauses. "I never will forget that
day...Every time I come to this church,
there's been a hand on my shoulder."
Apparently, lots of people feel that hand.
Every Thursday night at Cokesbury Center,
they get on the stage to testify how Celebrate
Recovery and Smith's leadership have helped
them battle addictions, abuse and other hurts.
A national recovery ministry first launched at California's Saddleback Church more than 10 years ago, Celebrate Recovery debuted at Cokesbury in April 2003. More than 200 people from all walks of life participate in Thursday night worship and weekly support groups for substance abuse, retail addiction, codependency, sexual addiction and other problems.
Few of the participants are Cokesbury members. Instead, Celebrate Recovery's participants come from all over the Knoxville area for the comfort and acceptance many say they've never experienced before. A vanload comes from Knox Area Rescue Ministries.
"We have a full range of people
who are trying to break free from the
hurts than haunt them, from the habits
that control them, from the hang-ups
that seem to possess them," Smith said
recently. "This church is a safe place
for them to come. It's a confidential
place, a place of prayer and hope."
Zukowski, age 56, not only drives 25 minutes from Loudon County to attend Celebrate Recovery on Thursday nights. He also participates in worship on Sunday morning, Bible study on Sunday night and a spiritually based 12-step program on Tuesday nights. On Wednesday nights, he works in the kitchen at Cokesbury.
"That's just a way of giving back because I'm so grateful. Right now I feel like I'm receiving so much from this church," says the former science teacher. "God has filled a void in my life."
Zukowski's story starts in 2001 when he retired after 32
years of teaching for Knoxville city schools, including three
years as an assistant middle school principal. The plan was to
become a "househusband," he says, assuming all household
responsibilities, freeing up his schoolteacher wife. He also
took on a part-time custodial job at his Presbyterian church
and enrolled in a writing class.
Until then, drinking beer was a daily part of his life but a habit he felt he could control. "There were times when I definitely was not in control, but I chose to ignore the problem," he admits.
He would miss teaching more than he would realize.
Soon, his alcohol consumption increased from one six-pack
a day to one six-pack in the morning and another six-pack in
the evening. The drinking triggered what Zukowski says was
a "delusional" state of mind. He suddenly became convinced
that he and his wife of 16 years no longer loved each other.
Despite her protests, he insisted on divorce.
Shortly after Thanksgiving 2002, Zukowski moved out of
the mountaintop home and 18 1/2 acres he shared with his
wife and then 15-year-old daughter.
"I was callous to my wife's feelings or those of my daughter," he says. "I was just bent on destruction."
Living in a rental house, Zukowski continued to drink heavily, sleeping during the day, staying up all night. He believed he would become a great writer and worked voraciously at it. "I was like Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining,'" he says with a smile. He picked up odd jobs motel desk clerk, medical deliveryman only to be fired or to quit.
In March 2003, Zukowski snapped. He found that he
couldn't perform simple tasks like make telephone calls. He
received an angry phone call from his writing teacher, who
considered his latest essay to be "offensive and threatening."
Zukowski called 911 and, because the rescue team believed
he was suicidal, he was admitted to Peninsula Hospital.
For weeks, he would battle what was diagnosed as alcoholism and bipolar disorder. Zukowski received treatment and medication and began attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. That's when the pain of having given up his marriage and family life really set in.
"My life just got so bad, I started thinking, 'Why not be a drunk? Anything was better than this. At least I had temporary happiness.'"
Zukowski came to Cokesbury on the advice of his former pastor, who had heard of the church's ministries for single persons. After reading the newspaper clipping and meeting Eldridge, he attended Celebrate Recovery the following Thursday night. He hasn't missed a Thursday night since. Like others, he was drawn to the contemporary music and Smith's preaching. But he also liked the sense of family.
"I thought I was the only one, but these people were like
me," he says. "Most of them had made a mess of their lives
through addictions."
On a typical Thursday night, Celebrate Recovery participants can be seen hugging each other, sharing their setbacks and successes. Some, like Zukowski, participate in Sunday worship and other Cokesbury activities during the week. On Thanksgiving night, a Thursday, they gathered for a special meal cooked by church members.
"You can't imagine how powerful that was," Zukowski
says. "Most of the people there had no other place to go.
They had lost their families or given up their families. Now
they have another family."
This Christmas Eve, Zukowski plans to take his daughter
to a Cokesbury worship service. The following day, also a
Thursday, he'll gather with his Celebrate Recovery family.
"This Christmas will be lonely, but not like it was last year,"
he says. He also plans to visit his sister in Knoxville.
He still fights depression and misses his family. But
he's sober and learning about a faith that was only "lip
service" before he lost everything and turned to God. For
the first time, prayer is a crucial part of his life. Before
telling his story for this article, he started with a prayer,
asking God to let his words be of service. ("A year ago, I
would have been uncomfortable doing that," he said.)
He prays even when he doesn't want to pray, even
when prayer "doesn't seem to work." It's something he
learned from a former minister whose own addiction helps
him understand the addictions of others.
"I get discouraged," Zukowski admits. "But Gil says that God listens and God understands. And that will get me through today."
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