A ROW WITH TWO CHAIRS

Mocha tells his story of recovery, redemption, and faith in this debut memoir.

Though familiar with the jargon of evangelical Christianity from his childhood in the Bible Belt of Oklahoma, the author’s journey toward faith began in a drug-fueled stupor in his ex-girlfriend’s living room when he picked up a dusty Bible, opened it randomly to the Book of Malachi, and read the verse “Return to me, and I will return to you” before overdosing shortly thereafter. Much space in the book’s early chapters in this honest, raw memoir is devoted to the author’s decade of “bad choices,” introducing readers to the mindset of addiction—from the rush of serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine fueled by cocaine, ecstasy, and methamphetamine during a weekend bender to the subsequent crash and hopelessness felt by the subsequent “Suicide Tuesday.” Mocha would eventually make a month-long pact with God to attend church, and he serendipitously attended one popular with motorcycle enthusiasts, replete with leather jackets and boots, where he “fit right in.” While the sinner-to-saint narrative is well-trodden terrain, what stands out in this memoir is the author’s authentic grappling with faith. Even after saying a prayer of conversion, he notes, “I felt nothing,” fearing that his newfound faith “was just another hoax.” Though he would eventually become a faithful convert, Mocha candidly discusses the difficulties in applying faith to one’s life. Hearing cliched lines from preachers about “giving our financial problems to God” is one thing, writes Mocha, figuring out how to give when you barely have enough money for food and gas is another. Much of the book’s second half blends the author’s strained spiritual journey (with the goal to simply “survive the hell I had created”) with a travelogue. Disillusionment with American culture corresponded with sobriety, prompting the author to travel throughout Europe. These experiences, from Christmas in France to summer in Croatia, are detailed in multiple chapters, and correspond with his evolving new identity as a Christian missionary

Not really a cohesive autobiography, much of this narrative is told through short vignettes (what the author refers to as a “zoom-in to the incredible stories” of his spiritual transformation) that provide snapshots of Mocha’s adult life at various stages. This approach works well, as the book’s 40-plus chapters average no more than five pages in length and make for an engaging read that doesn’t overwhelm with superfluous detail. While the book is definitively a Christian work, the author does not shrink from uncomfortable spiritual conversations; nor does he wade into the politically fraught terrain of the intersection between faith and hot-button social issues (which, depending on the reader’s perspective, is either refreshingly apolitical or a cop out). The book provides a harrowing and brutal look into the thought-processes of addicts that may not make sense to those on the outside looking in, and it will help readers of all backgrounds to better understand addiction. It also strikes a successful balance in focusing on religion without being preachy, saving its most punishing jabs for the author himself, who required a multitude of “second chances for me to get free of the things that were taking my life from me.”

A well-written memoir and testament to religion’s redemptive power.