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Recovery themed, Christian flavored daily reflections for those struggling, recovering, or seeking understanding.
Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.
Psalm 119:18
How do we come to believe when we came for relief?
Belief wasn’t the objective. We needed to stop hurting—to find a way out. For many of us, God represented an old, broken idea.
How then, in the face of crippling addiction and a more than messy life, are we to grab hold of this lifeline that seems predicated on ancient religious fluff?
When I approached the rooms of recovery—sentenced there by the rehab I asked for in a moment of lucidity—I did not have to look hard for differences. I wasn’t like them. I was younger, healthier, brighter, etc.
And that’s the natural approach. If I’m different, then my solution will be different too. If I’m different I don’t have to take what you say to heart.
If I’m different, it’s up to me to find a solution.
Now that’s cute and fine if it weren’t a life or death matter. And if I were actually being honest with myself.
But as with practically any group of people, I had only to look closer to find the similarities too. Of course we are different. But it’s our common bonds that give us strength.
And here is where belief can take root. As I conceded that yes, I did experience addiction in the same ways, I opened up to hear the ways in which they had seemingly recovered from similar, and often worse, cases of hopelessness.
Desperation breeds strong faith. This is where the God that I had misunderstood was finally permitted a foothold in my life, in my mind, in my heart. Not to turn me into a mindless puppet, but to enliven me with intention, hope and the full measure of relief I wanted to start with.
God, open my eyes as days continue to go by.