Finding the Way Home: A Father’s Journey

Lost in the Fog

There was a time when Joe's life felt completely out of control. Originally from Dickinson, Texas, he describes those early days before recovery as “crazy”—a time when the very smallest of tasks felt impossible. Holding down a job didn’t just seem hard; it felt pointless. He had no desire to work, to grow, or to show up for life in any real way. His parents stepped in to pay bills and help raise his children. Days blurred together in a fog of substances and avoidance. The weight of everything he wasn’t doing—everything he couldn’t face—just kept piling up.

“I struggled a lot with drugs and alcohol,” Joe recalls. “It was a terrible, terrible way to live life.”

A Deeper Connection

“The most important thing The Wheelhouse taught me,” Joe says, “was how to begin a relationship with God.”

The First Step Toward Change

And yet, something more profound was still alive in him. A small voice that the chaos hadn’t silenced. A longing, perhaps, for something more real—more steady. That quiet sense that there had to be another way. When Joe came to The Wheelhouse, it wasn’t just about getting clean. It was about rebuilding from the inside out, building a relationship with God.

At first, his healing at The Wheelhouse was practical. He learned how to take responsibility, how to show up, how to live like a man—in a grounded, humble, and responsible way. He learned what it meant to live with integrity, to do the small things right: waking up, following through, keeping his word. However, what ultimately changed everything was something much deeper, a relationship with a power greater than himself.

A Deeper Connection

This relationship with God didn’t fully take root the first time. Joe managed to stay sober for several years, but something in him hadn’t grown the way it needed to. His spiritual foundation hadn’t deepened.

So, when life caught up with him again, he returned. And this time, it was different. This time, he got honest with himself, with others, and with God. He surrendered and dug into the process. “I begged for this thing,” he says.

Trusting the Guidance Within

He began to walk the path—not alone, but guided. Through that second journey, Joe found a relationship with God unlike anything he had ever known. It wasn’t about religion. It was about connection. Direction. A quiet confidence that came not from control, but from trust, a trust in God.

Today, Joe’s life isn’t just free of addiction—it’s full. “Life is very manageable,” he says. “I can hold down a job. I do things now I never thought I could.”

He once believed his path was set in stone—working long hours in a chemical plant, just as he used to. But as he stayed close to that sense of guidance, something shifted. He did the “next right thing,” step by step, and now works fewer hours and earns more than he ever imagined. His career, his choices, his direction—they’re not just about what he wants, but about what he feels led toward.

Showing Up for the People Who Matter Most

That sense of trust shows up in his family life, too. He’s a proud father of four—one son at Texas A&M, and three daughters at home. They look up to him now, not out of obligation, but because they see the man he’s become. “They honor their dad these days,” Joe says. “And I’m able to show up to their soccer games, their track meets, volleyball games—and be fully present.”

This is the heart of recovery. Not just surviving without substances, but learning to live in a way that’s grounded, awake, and guided by something greater.

The Way Home Is Always Open

Joe’s story isn’t about perfection—it’s about progress. It’s about letting go of what no longer serves you and opening yourself to a life that’s real, meaningful, and connected to God.

At The Wheelhouse, healing happens every day—not by force, but by grace. Joe’s journey reminds us all that no matter how far off course we may go, the way home is always waiting. All it takes is a little honesty, open-mindedness, a little willingness, and the courage to trust a power greater than our own.

Because when we learn to walk with this kind of guidance, life stops being something we run from—and becomes something we’re proud to live.