Last.Damn.Call

The people who have been healed of the worst afflictions are often the most grateful for their new lease on life (Recovery Bible 2nd edition).

I have read and reread this sentence so many times over the past year. And you know why? Because I once used it as an accusation. As an insult. Let me explain.

Before I entered treatment and began my recovery journey, here is what my line of thinking was…it is not pretty, and I am not proud of it, but if you are honest with yourself, you may admit you have felt this way before as well.

When I heard of an addict or alcoholic (for example) who was newly sober and suddenly “finding Jesus” and coming to church, my thought was, “Well, ain’t that convenient?” In the shittiest of tones. Oh, so they messed up, got thrown in jail, and now they are all about finding God and looking for a bail out. While the rest of us (funny how I included myself-the active alcoholic in that “us” part)…while all along the rest of us have been at church and serving communion on Sunday and going to Sunday school and volunteering with all the church events. What a friggin’ insult. To those of “us” doing all the work while these other people have been doing whatever the hell they want. While we were here doing what Christians are supposed to do…you suddenly need some kind of redemption and showed up in some last-ditch effort to save yourself. How convenient for you.

Can we say it all together–HYPOCRITE.

If you have never caught yourself thinking the way I just described, then good for you. Really. Maybe you are a better human than me. I have had these thoughts more times than I would like to admit. I am embarrassed to even say that. But sometimes, I have been so inclined to point out what I perceive as hypocritical in someone else that I lose complete sight of how I am acting. That’s the honest to goodness truth. An alcoholic viewing themself as a dutiful and obedient child of God calling an addict turning to the church for guidance a hypocrite. What a stupid asshat way to think.

“How convenient they ‘found God’ suddenly in sobriety” with an added obnoxious eye roll from Lindsey. I wish I could kick my own ass sometimes. Because that’s what that kind of attitude deserves. Because it is anything but convenient. It is a friggin’ miracle is what it is. Ask anyone who has found redemption following a time in their life that they are less than proud of.

(From the Recovery Bible) Psalm 116: Often titled “Thanksgiving for Recovery from Illness,” this psalm expresses a deep sense of gratitude for deliverance from death and anguish.“Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling”.

Delivered my soul from death. Check. The idea…no, the guarantee that we can be delivered from the darkest places. To prevent the stumbling back into whatever hell you have been delivered from. Those are powerful statements. Promises. And they are not limited to a select few. This is not a one-time offer. People have overcome, relapsed, fallen, gotten back up, and started the cycle all over again. And God never says, “Whoopsie, you had your chance. Too late for you. Game over.” How amazing is that?

So, yes, when someone says they are a recovering addict, a sinner of any nature (which we all are), and you want to pull a “Lindsey” and roll your eyes and think, “How convenient. At their lowest of lows, they magically found Jesus”…. remember, it is anything but convenient. It is nothing short of a miracle. Not every church and child of God welcomes repeat offenders back with open arms and hearts. If you were discarded after one fall, one sin, one “unforgivable” act against yourself or another, where would you be? Lost. That’s where you’d be…lost.

This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for a love that is greater than me or anything I can imagine. One that I cannot fully understand. One that doesn’t come with a contract and terms and conditions. A love that saves and redeems and doesn’t turn its back when that would be the easy thing to do.

The human in me can be judgmental. Somewhat harsh and unforgiving. That’s the truth. I will not pretend that I don’t get angry and upset with the actions of others. But that’s not my battle to fight. The battle I fight is letting go. Letting go of the things I cannot control. I try to remember that voice from above going, “I got this. You do you, Lindsey. Let go and let me handle this.” Today, I am grateful that I am learning to let go and let God. I never really understood those words until lately. But I am grateful that I am learning the meaning now, in this season of my life.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours,

From the grateful heart of a recovering alcoholic