Step 1 for everyone: Powerless but capable.
I have been reconciling myself to the nature of addiction my entire life. In one form or another it has haunted me. Good, good people I love have gone to jail because of their substance use disorder; others have died. Those are the public humiliations; but what about the private ones? It is possible for a family to suffer from the affliction of one compulsion or another in excruciating silence, loneliness and isolation. I know this burn too.
One way we cope with such suffering is to deny it; over-spiritualize it; try to control it through ninja mind games. In my work in recovery, I always HATED it when someone showed up to tell me how God had cured their affliction. It caused me to shiver; I probably made a face, which is not cool but it happens. Here is why: I am hardwired to associate someone believing God has cured them with an imminent relapse. Does it always happen? No. Does God cure people of all sorts of things? Do miracles happen? Yes.
But when a person 30 days sober tells me that God has cured them and the 12-steps, particularly the first one: We admitted we were powerless over our dependency and that our lives had become unmanageable is a sign that someone does not have enough faith, I cringe. Oftentimes, within a few weeks, this dear soul has returned to use.
"By the Book" has a quote that I love. "I think...the first step is not about we admitted 'we are powerless over alcohol and our lives had become unmanageable,' meaning life isn't manageable because I am powerless over alcohol. THE DEEPER MEANING OF THAT STATEMENT IS MY LIFE IS UNMANAGEABLE and I drink alcohol as a way of dealing with that; it is a symptom of the unmanageability." Yes. Amen.
So please, don't tell me that God has miraculously cured you of your compulsion to drink unless and until you can show me that you have acknowledged how unmanageable your life is with or without alcohol (or drugs, or shopping, or shoplifting or watching porn instead of writing a sermon or cheating on your spouse or eating a jar of peanut butter in one sitting). Compulsions come in many forms; we humans are extremely creative. No need for those of us who don't even drink alcohol to be cocky about this - we all have ways we cope, often compulsively, with unmanageable lives.
Even the Apostle Paul, who once wrote, "...I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations...At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, my grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness." 2 Corinthians 12, The Message
In my view, it is always a good indicator that we are living in an unmanageable manner when we try to convince ourselves and others that we have life figured out. We're all good. We're cured. ESPECIALLY if we blame God for it.
Why do I say blame? Because this notion that any of us have life all figured out is an arrogance that none of us can afford to indulge in. As one of my favorite singer songwriters in the world sings, "Nobody has got it all together". Life is unmanageable.
Life will always be unmanageable because we were not created to manage life, we were given the gift of the life of being human - which by definition is fraught with limitations. Paul went on to write, "...the weaker I get, the stronger I become." Yes. Again, amen.
When I acknowledge my weakness I am more inclined to live with more humility and less hubris. If I am wise in my weakness I seek out relationships of inter-dependence that provide both solace and support along the journey. Maybe this admission allows me to be more compassionate and less judgy - at least I hope so.
If today is one of those days where you feel like you have got it all together, great. That is awesome. But do not build a whole belief system on such a shaky foundation. Instead consider Paul, who writes bout how he quit focusing on his handicap and began appreciating the opportunity for Christ's strength to move in on his weakness.
