It started in Innocence

Caleb:
I started out life as a home school kid with eleven siblings.  Growing up, I did my best to be "good."  It was a wonderful, loving, Christian home.  Good behavior was most assuredly expected and required.  My four older brothers went  to pubic high school starting in ninth grade, so that they could play sports.  I was the fifth born son.  When it was my turn, I had the same desire as my older brothers, I wanted to play sports.  This meant I had to attend public school.  I was unaware at the time, but I believe now, that due to my older brothers discovering alcohol and "ways of the world," my mom was concerned and didn't want me to go to public school.  I have a very chameleon-like personality and tend to adapt to the ways of the people I choose to surround myself with (or the people who surround me).  But don't we all?
Of course, I was disappointed by my parents' decision, because this meant that I was not able to play football.  But life went on.
The summer I turned 15, I went on a week-long bike tour, the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure (GOBA), with my best friend, Aaron.  We had grown up together in the "home school" setting.  In order to go on the trip, I purchased Aaron's old bike for $50 (most of the gears worked).  Then I proceeded to buy clipless pedals and shoes for $100.  GOBA is approximately 3,000 people, and we rode on average 50 miles a day for a week.  During this week long adventure, we discovered what we believed were some mountain bike trails and rode on them one evening at the end of the normal day's ride.  Of course, we thought we had just done something AMAZING!
This was something that I thoroughly enjoyed and I got excited about trying out the trails back home.   I couldn't wait to ride my bike off-road again.  I asked around and discovered that there was an off-road trail outside of Loudonville, nine miles down Wally Road.
One Saturday morning, I set out in my jeans, a long-sleeved cycling shirt, no water, on my $50 diamond-back fully ridged "mountain bike."  I road seven miles down 97 to Loudonville, thinking that Wally road was just across Rt 3.  I headed on down, anticipating finding this mountain bike trail, but to my disappointment, 3 miles down that road, I discovered I was on the wrong road.  I asked a gentleman if he knew the whereabouts of the Mohican Wilderness Camp Ground.  He gave me directions, and I back-tracked the 3 miles to Rt 3.
Next, I road 9 more miles down Wally road to get to the Mountain Bike trail.
 I arrived at the trail-head around noon, in the heat of the day, overdressed, with no water, and I barreled into the woods.  About half-way through, a couple of other mountain bikers caught up with me. Thankfully, they had a bottle of water! (God goes before us!!) I had shared with them all about my morning ride.  When they discovered I was a novice, and heard how far I had come, they correctly assumed I was completely exhausted and knew I had a long way to get home.  They generously offered me a ride.  I accepted.  Since it was in the old days, before cell phones, I wouldn't have been able to call for a ride and would have...?
This experience, the awesome exhilaration of rushing down single-track through the woods, dodging trees and rocks, was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life.  It overcame my desire to play football.  It also cured the sadness that had settled on my heart from not being able to play football.  I had found my place in the world.
Within a month, I made my way to the local bike shop and spent my life savings of  $1,057 on a full-suspension Schwinn mountain bike.  I discovered a local mountain bike racing series and started racing mountain bikes.  My first race was only two months after GOBA.  I did pretty well on my first race.  I was considered a natural.  Racing consumed my life, it became who I was.  I was all about getting more fit, better parts, better bikes, I spent every dollar I made on mountain biking in some way.  This was also about a year into me "quitting school" and working full time on a construction crew.
Between the co-workers that I was around daily in the construction world (probably worse than any high school kids), and mountain biking becoming more important to me than anything else, the fragile relationship I had with God, began to quickly deteriorate.  He was my mother's God anyway.  I went through the motions because I knew it was right, but it was beginning to interfere with my Sunday racing schedule.  Mom layered on the guilt.  Sometimes it worked, other times I didn't care and did what I wanted to do anyhow.  I tried to convince her that God could use me as a witness in the mountain biking scene.  This was just so I wouldn't have to feel guilty about missing church to make it to a race.
My  co-workers thought that I hadn't received the full education a 16/17 year old boy should have received.  My mother thought they were decent fellows and that I was getting an education that would offer me a solid career.  Hands on was just as valuable as what I could have learned from books at home, and since I was working with my neighbor, she didn't ask questions. 
So between getting unplugged from church, and my co-workers "education" I was changing fast.  I rode my bike daily, and became pretty successful.  I started racing at a national level, traveling across the country.  I was competing with pro and semi-pro athletes.
Staying away from everything but alcohol, I felt I was still abiding by the rules my parents had adamantly enforced.  After some of the big races, I was starting to celebrate with the friends I was traveling with to these events.  From what I witnessed in the construction world, I figured a few drinks every once in a while was still pretty saintly.
And so it began.  A few drinks turned into, I got drunk.  And then I knew what a buzz felt like.  I began to really enjoy catching a buzz. 
I felt that I was peaceful and relaxed when I would catch a buzz.  But there is truly no peace better than what I have now free of addiction and buzzes. The peace that I have knowing there are no secrets between me and my family far surpasses anything from the past.  The peace to know I can love and be loved, not be controlled by something anymore and constantly worrying about covering a lie with a lie or my double life being discovered, this is TRUE peace.  Perfect peace.  And it is beautiful to be able to have another chance.  Having another chance  isn't something that is only for me.  It is available to any who desire it.  A free gift, that is life abundant.