I'm not certain

when it really hit home.

Perhaps it

was during one of the five Alcoholics Anonymous meetings I attended last

fall. Or perhaps it was last January when Dr. Jay Giesler, a Pittsburgh

Episcopal priest and specialist in addiction told me that, in his opinion,

I was addicted. Or maybe it was last July when my doctor told me that

I needed to lay off the stuff or I could experience health problems.

In any event,

I finally quit. This weekend marks 15 full weeks of abstinence. It has

now been over three months since I have had a diet soft drink.

I first starting

drinking diet sodas way back in the summer of 1971 when I was a ministerial

intern working at State Street United Methodist Church in Bristol, Va.

states, named Bristol?

Bristol, Va.,

and Bristol, Tenn., share a common thoroughfare, State Street, which separates

the two cities in neighboring states. State Street is actually on the

state line. And State Street Church is not anywhere near State Street.

Go figure.

Anyway, I was

trying to lose some weight and switched from Pepsi to Diet Pepsi. Later

on, I would switch to Diet Coke as the staple drink and, because of me,

Coca-Cola would dominate the market.

In 1991, I

observed my 40th birthday. The church I served at the time held a surprise

party on a Sunday evening and charged "admission." Each church

member was to bring a can of Diet Coke to the party. I took away some

240 cans of Diet Coke and this didn't include the bottles that people

brought. Within three months, I had consumed them all. To make matters

worse, this doesn't include the diet sodas that I consumed at meals in

restaurants or in people's homes.

I actually

gained quite a reputation for putting away the Diet Coke that went well

beyond the church family. For example, the servers at Shadows Restaurant

in Peachtree City never asked me what I wanted to drink. They would simply

bring a large cruet of diet soda to the table whenever I came in.

Once, at Longhorn's,

my bishop arrived early for a lunch meeting with me. The server saw his

clerical collar and brought him a pitcher of Diet Coke. He said, "Excuse

me, but I didn't order this." She said, "Are you meeting Father

Epps?" "Why, yes," said he. "Then don't worry, he'll

drink it." And, of course, I did.

Before I went

to Kenya and Uganda in 1998, I was warned, "Now you'll have to get

along without Diet Coke. This is a Third World country and, even if you

can find a soft drink, it will be hot." Ah, but an addict can always

that to which he is addicted. There, in rural Africa, miles from anything

resembling civilization, I found a small village store. And, yes, they

had one single, solitary Diet Coke. And, yes, somehow, it was ice cold.

A miracle, perhaps?

It's not a

religious or moral thing, this giving up of Diet Coke. It's not even a

health thing. I just decided that I have too many things in my life that

are "strongholds," if you'll pardon the religious phraseology.

And, while this little addiction was not likely to bring me to rack and

ruin, it was still an addiction. And it was a good place to start.

So, I have

learned to drink a cup of coffee in the morning, which requires four packs

of "Equal" to sweeten the ghastly brew so that I can get my

caffeine "kick start." And, when I can find it, I'll have a

bottle of Snapple Diet Tea in the afternoon. I almost feel British, though

I doubt that my English cousins would deign to drink cold tea from a bottle

in the afternoon or, for that matter, at any time.

And I have

learned to drink water. Lots of water. Gallons of water. Sometimes with

a twist of lemon, although I prefer lime.

Am I tempted

to relapse? Not yet. Although I did bring a Diet Pepsi to someone at our

church the other day and I did fine until I opened it for her. The feel

of the cold can in my hand, the sound of the "psssssffffttttt,"

as the top was popped, and the memory of the refreshing, bubbly, liquid

on the back of my throat was almost too much. But, with divine help, I

prevailed.

So, last July,

my 31-year love affair with and addiction to diet soft drinks came, I

hope, to an end. In the last few years, I was drinking eight to 15 cans

of Diet Coke every single day (or, in times of desperation, Diet Pepsi,

Diet Dr. Pepper, or even the gawdawful-tasting Tab when nothing else was

available).

The benefits?

Well, I feel pretty darn good about myself and I have hope that other,

more troubling, defects in my character can be dealt with. And, there's

plenty of free space in the fridge now. Oh, and money. I have lots more

money in my pocket that I used to. My meals in restaurants cost less because

water is free.

The downside?

The few shares of stock that I have in Coca-Cola have taken a beating.

For that, I apologize to my fellow stockholders.

[David Epps

is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church in the Coweta/Fayette

County area of south metro Atlanta. He may be contacted at [email protected]

or at www.ctkcec.org.]