"On September 7, 1996, I awoke on my dad’s couch after a three-day binge. The house was eerily quiet except for the familiar voices of shame and dread taunting me with all I’d done in the previous 72 hours. There was nothing different about that particular morning. But for some reason, God showed up in the middle of my war-torn soul on that day and began to play a melody.

I’d never heard anything like it before. I’ve since come to recognize it as the music of divine interruption, where God’s still, small voice pierces through all the noise. That morning, I heard God say, “You’re done.” It wasn’t an audible voice; it was far more unsettling than that. It came from deep within, and it was undeniable."