Stupid Blue Recliner: Part Dos

Now, the enemy of our souls had a field day with all of this, don’t cha know? He not only attended the pity party, but also began the battle within the battlefield of my mind. (Thank you Joyce Meyer for writing a book just for me.) You see, it hadn’t been that long…maybe 6 months prior to all of this that I sought help for my drinking. This occurred because of many prayers of my husband and others I won’t meet until heaven I’m sure. I listened to the bottom of a beer can speak to me: “You don’t have to do this.” I sure thought I did. It had always helped me to block out so much before. That was the last one I drank before I called up a Christian counseling group in the area and made an appointment with an angel. Now, keep in mind that my plan was to hit the liquor store drive through after my session with her, but God had other plans. I didn’t realize it then, but I liked His so much better. That woman with the amazing God-smile prayed for me and March 12, 2009 was the beginning of my new life. It was a 1-step program for me and I was never more thankful as I adore skip-stepping whenever I can. (Ask my husband, I can’t follow a recipe to save my life.)

That was March, glorious March, praise God! In June, my husband and I left our addiction to nicotine on an altar and haven’t touched them since. Only God can do that. I had smoked for 14 years and tried to quit on my own numerous times before, no less than 10, and to no avail. It’s one of the most discouraging things in the world to finally get up the nerve to do something and then fail. The enemy weasels his way into that like a, well, weasel.

At the beginning of my newfound freedom, I was training for my first 5K. I’ve always wanted to be a runner! Gracefully sweaty with a driven purpose to reach that goal, giving God the glory and simultaneously repenting for the way I bashed the body He created for so many years. (Important note: I plan to cross a finish line somewhere this summer, whether I’m running, limping, or crawling.)

I got sick not long after I/we had been freed from the ugliness that is addiction. I had so many thoughts enter my mind on a daily basis that it made me sicker…more sick?…I was sick. I would go out and run/walk and collapse when I got home, not in the usual way one might. I’d be dizzy and lightheaded while my muscles decided to give out and quit for the rest of the day. I tried to be all righteous and run anyway, but it turns out people get concerned when a woman runs in a zig-zag pattern beside the road, ironically seeming as though she is drunk.

God is so good and I sit amazed as I type that He makes a way to change lives no matter what. For some reason. God always has a plan and I try my best to stick with it. Most days…except on the days when I throw pity parties for myself and no one comes.
Be a blessing to someone today–they may just be going through one of the hardest times of their lives.

From Addicted to Free

Reflecting on last night, I am amazed at what God can bring people through. As I type that, a little voice inside my head says, “how do you know it’s God?” (I also wonder if that little voice gets steaming mad when I capitalize that “G”) Last night I stood on a stage in front of quite a few people with a sign stating “I WAS ADDICTED TO ALCOHOL AND CIGARETTES.” For those of you who have never taken one of your greatest shames and broadcast them in such a way, I would have to encourage you to do so.
A downward spiral of events led me to believe that I needed alcohol and nicotine as well to deal with stress and drown out the pain that PTSD had brought into my so-called life. Guzzling down a 12-pack (minimum) each night and smoking (a pack-2 packs) until my lungs hurt every day/night is no life at all. Not only was I addicted, but I didn’t care that I was addicted. A feeling of apathy consumed everything. My addiction took me to a place where I didn’t care if I lived or died. I remember having dreams where I would drive off a cliff and being ok with that. I remember a time when I told my husband about such a dream and he said very solemnly, “You’re scaring me.” It’s a sad thing to scare the people you love most. And it’s even sadder when you think about the enemy of your soul rejoicing as you do.
I never thought I’d be in this place. I never thought I would look back on my life at some of the things I’ve been through, wondering how I made it; how God kept me safe all those years I neglected to revere His Holy Name. It’s about so much more than “religion.” It’s about the best relationship you could ever hope to have. Words, spoken or typed on this computer, could never express what God can and will do in your life. If you let Him. He never pushes anyone into anything they don’t want. When I prayed with that beautiful counselor on March 12, 2009, fully intending to hit the drive-through liquor store on the way home (who put that on the same street for cryin’ out loud?) God knew the desires of my heart and rescued me from my enemy and my self. He is so good and so cool and He knows you better than you know your stubborn self. He doesn’t force you to give up things you love. He loves you until you choose to give up the things that don’t love you back.
The other side of side of my sign said: “NOW GOD’S BANNER OVER ME IS FREEDOM.”

A Role Model? Me?

A role model. That’s what I heard. I heard this when asking God what in the world He wanted me to be when I grew up. A role model. Me? I didn’t see it. As someone who was compelled to head to the gas station/liquor store and buy a 12-pack every night, then proceed to drink that 12-pack…every night, smoking a pack or 2 to boot, I just wasn’t seeing how my life would be a role-model-y one. Not in a “Follow-me! I’m-a-leader!”-kinda way, a financial-kinda way (I spent approximately $60–tax not included–each week on my addictions) or a moral compass-kinda way either. I was depressed, discouraged, distressed and downtrodden. (And perhaps another d-word I can’t think of right now.)
I remember just shaking my head and practically rolling my eyes upward, muttering something along the lines of “Yeah right” in typical Eeyore-fashion. My life meant nothing to me at that point. I truly didn’t care if I lived or died. I remember waking up, laying in bed, and thinking, “Maybe this is the day it ends.” I didn’t necessarily want to die, but I sure didn’t care much if I lived at all. I needed someone desperately. I needed someone to notice the torture my mind went through, the sheer agony of not caring, the element of feeling so hopeless and so worthless that you could see your car driving off a cliff and then, cut to you: simply sitting there, not screaming, not upset, just staring off in the distance, on the way down.
Even now, as I type a fraction of my story, I feel those same feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, dread of a new day of nothing new at all, depression, and anxiety.
Then, just like that (snap your fingers here for effect), God set me free. He was the someone who cared. He was the someone who noticed my torturous days. He loved me even though I didn’t love myself, or maybe especially because I didn’t. He was the voice at the bottom of that beer can that said, “You don’t have to do this.” I don’t? I would think. But I like it! (I believe this is the part where God rolled His eyes at me.)
My life and my mind began to change when I started to face the truth. I, in fact, didn’t like it. I hated being a slave to a beverage and tobacco and I surely didn’t benefit from the junk it brought along with it. Contrary to popular belief, alcohol doesn’t fix anything! Who knew?
It was March 12, 2009 when I met with a Christian counselor, fully intending to hit the drive-through liquor store on the way home. It was on the same road as her office. How convenient! After our session, I’d sit on the back porch, working my way through my drinking issue and a 12-pack at the same time. (I’ve always been a multi-tasker.) After all, people didn’t just STOP drinking miraculously, did they? No! It required time and effort on their part and I’d get there. I just needed to think about it some more.
How many of you can agree with me when I say that God ALWAYS has a better plan? That night, the woman of God and I prayed. I can’t even tell you that my heart was totally in it, so it wasn’t because I believed really hard or wished with all my might. My depressed mind kept me from any of that. I held her hand and felt the tears well up, I willed them to stay right where they were, firmly pressed down. But they wouldn’t. And it was with those tears, that God saw my true heart, before I did. I am ecstatic to tell you that I haven’t touched alcohol since, and laid the nicotine habit down in June of that same year. God is so good that words cannot possibly describe…but I can sure try.
Today I pray for each and every person who struggles with addiction in any way and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that all they have to do is pray to the God Who created them and the truth shall set them free.