Last.Damn.Call

Some food for thought here. I use addict/alcoholic interchangeably sometimes, and I hope that doesn’t confuse or offend anyone. Addiction is defined in so many ways other than just referring to some sketchy guy your parents warned you about lingering in an alley behind a gas station offering you crack or whatever. An alcoholic is addicted to alcohol. Shopping or overspending can be an addiction. Gambling is an addiction. Addiction does not always look someone twitching in a dirty floor of an abandoned shack surrounded by dirty needles and trash like we see on television.

People get addicted to social media, their phones, to their work out routine, to their significant other, to the news, to food, to their body image, to religion, to pornography, to stealing, to setting fires, and even to their job/work. So don’t think for a second that “regular” people aren’t addicts, too.

Let me ask you a few questions, and tell me what comes to mind first. It is simple: answer Addict or Chrisitan to each of the following:

1. Becomes consumed with self-doubt
2. Doesn’t like what they see in the mirror
3. Sits in the pew at church every Sunday morning
4. Paces the floor, worrying endlessly about bills, family, the world
5. Cooks dinner for their family at night
6. Reads their Bible daily
7. Works a job they find unfulfilling
8. Shows up for all their children’s sporting events and school functions
9. Smiles and offers words of encouragement to those around them
10. Lifts up others in prayer
11. Has feelings of sadness and being overwhelmed
12. Has feelings of excitement and joy
13. Cares for others deeply
14. Shows up for work on time and does a good job
15. Is a good neighbor
16. Helps their kids with homework
17. Does the laundry and cleans the house
18. Walks the dog
19. Attends routine doctors’ appointments and takes medications as prescribed
20. Goes to bed exhausted and unsure of how they will do it all over again tomorrow

It gets a little confusing, huh? Being a Christian doesn’t magically erase all self-doubt, conflicting thoughts, all the things that all us humans experience. I can say, for me, my faith carries me.

It carried me every single night in rehab when I cried myself to sleep, missing my family and knowing that no one except for ME was responsible for my suffering. I prayed until I fell asleep. In a crappy place, with crappy people, in crappy circumstances.

My faith carried me through getting fired when I got my first real job following rehab. When I was told by the powers that be that I was unfit to work around children because I was a recovering alcoholic. My faith quieted my cries of, “When I was a drunk, I could keep a job. Now, that I got help, I am being fired. Why???” My faith told me to go to an AA meeting that night and talk about it. God listens in on those meetings, trust me.

My faith allowed me to speak out so that others may seek help. My faith allowed me to know that we all fall, and it is my faith that picks me back up. My faith has allowed me to be more accepting of others. When others rejected me because of my past, my faith reminded me how that felt and not to inflict that judgment on someone else. My faith helps me to hold my tongue (and it takes a friggin’ strong amount of it, at times–God is well aware). My faith helps me choose my words more wisely, a little softer than before. It’s a work in progress, but I am trying. Which is a step in the right direction.

My addiction told me I was stupid. I was wrong. I was wasting space and time. My addiction told me I would never change, that people never do. My addiction told me I was stuck. And I highlight that because if you have ever been truly stuck–you know exactly what that feels like. Hopeless. My addiction told me I was a bad friend, wife, mother, person…and that God probably didn’t like me anyways.

My addiction was wrong. And so is yours.

I cannot sit here and say all people who say they love God are good people who act in ways that reflect God’s love. I cannot sit here and say all Christians have good intentions. I cannot sit here and say all believers of Christ act in ways that glorify God. I would be bold face lying if I told you those things.

I can say I have done shitty things in my life. I lived in a rehab with prostitutes, crack addicts, drunks, mentally and criminally insane people. Some of those people I am just fine with never crossing paths with again. But I can also say I learned something from each of them. Even if it was that I should be thankful I never sold my body to men for drugs or that I should be thankful I don’t hear voices that don’t exist. Some of those women told me how they thought drinking was the worst thing a person could do because of what drunks (boyfriends, moms, dads, grandpas, whatever) had done to them. Fair enough. I can absolutely see that.

Every single person we meet has a story to tell if we listen closely enough.

We don’t have to like their story or agree with it. Take what you need and leave behind what you don’t. Those parts we don’t see useful to ourselves may very well be the exact piece someone else does need. Leave it for them.

I don’t like to push religion. I don’t. I know what I believe and am happy to share that. But if it becomes an agenda of sorts that you push on people, you lose people. And that’s the truth. You scare people off. Push them further away.

When I first sought help, I spoke to my pastor and my physician. In that order if I recall correctly. My pastor didn’t say, “Repent or perish! You are a bad person and must be redeemed!” Again, if I recall correctly, he said something to the effect of, “How long have you been drinking?” Followed by, it may take me that long to dig myself completely out of this mess. And I thought, “Well, shit. That’s not what I wanted to hear. So, maybe never I will get out of this?”

But you know what. I think he was spot on. Not that it would take me years to stop drinking. But years to heal. Repair relationships. Fix the mental, physical, and spiritual damage I had been screwing up all these years. It’s a process. And while there are times of frustration, my faith carries me. It reminds me it took me a long time to get to this place in time. Of how extremely far I have come. Of how important it is to keep talking, keep working, and keep helping others.

Your addiction may tell you that you cannot change. That people rarely do. But that’s a lie. Addiction lies and makes you feel momentarily better in your own skin. Faith tells you the truth and can make you momentarily feel uncomfortable in your own skin. That means it is working. We aren’t meant to always be comfortable. To never face hardships. Think of any good habit you try to acquire (exercise, diet, reading, meditation, anything)…it takes time, right? And a little bit of sacrifice and a lot of dedication. If doing the right thing all the time was so damn easy, everyone would do just that.

Addicts and Christians have a lot in common. Both experience trials. Both want love and to feel like they belong. Both want to be happy. To be fulfilled. Don’t dismiss anyone. Not the person speaking from the pulpit, not the person sitting in the pew, not the person begging for money to buy booze, not the person you think you may be better than. My faith tells me we are brothers and sisters. My faith tells me it is strong enough to carry us all.