I first heard the Serenity Prayer at age 6, when my dad took us to an open AA meeting. I well remember many things from that visit: getting to play pool, watching Wednesday night boxing on TV, and ham-and-cheese sandwiches.

I also remember several members baring their souls, admitting first and foremost that they were "a drunk" and then sharing a story or two of what life was like before and after they stopped drinking. They shared their continuing struggles with trying to remain sober for "just one more day." Many stories were heart- breaking — loss of job, wife and family — yet all were glad they were sober, at least for the day.

At the end of the sharing, new attendees were asked if any would like to take a "white chip," signifying that they wanted to stop drinking for the next 30 days. Others who had stood up and admitted falling off the wagon were back to take another white chip.

I've attended meetings while visiting my parents over the past 56 years. After each meeting, I came away encouraged and uplifted. As a born-again Christian, I repent my sinful nature often and recommit to doing a better job. I told Dad once that if I was required to take a white chip every time I fell off the Christian wagon, I would have my own white chip factory.

In 2002, I attended the meeting where he received a gold chip signifying 50 years of sobriety. Dad was his ever-humble self and attributed his sobriety to the power he has and continues to receive from his faith. At such an occasion, there are always more than enough tears to go around, but they are all tears of joy and celebration in Dad's sobriety at least for another day. It's a "one day at a time" program.

Dad believes this so much that if his "dry date" anniversary falls before his Wednesday meeting, he won't accept the chip until the week after. He said, "I never take my sobriety for granted, therefore I will wait." This year, his 56th year of sobriety landed on a Friday, two days after his weekly meeting. Friends encouraged him to take his chip early, but he declined, saying, "I don't want to take my sobriety for granted."

It was a special celebration, drawing many longtime AA friends from afar. As he came forward to receive his chip, he began to share a bombshell: He could not accept his chip because he had fallen off the wagon when he'd almost overdosed on medications prescribed for a series of ailments, including depression caused in part by my mom's Alzheimer's. She'd been committed to a nursing home; they separated after 65 years of marriage. She no longer recognizes who he is.

Many tried to convince Dad he really hadn't "fallen off the wagon." He hadn't had a drink. Plus, many people have accidental problems with prescription drugs. To Dad, there was no difference. He'd caved into his medications purposefully.

After many tears and hugs, Dad asked for and received a white chip. He was starting over. The string of 56 years of staying dry was gone forever.

Dad said later he continues to believe the scripture from Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." As hard as it was for him to bare his soul, he just knew there was a purpose and that something good would in fact come out of this heart-wrenching experience.

John Toillion is a member of Mililani Presbyterian Church.