Admission

How many times have I thought this exact thing? I desire to do what is right, but can’t seem to muster the strength to follow through.

This is true today, but it was especially true during my drinking.

I wanted—desperately at times—to stop. Or rather to be ok with stopping. Or more exactly to be able to quit without discomfort.

But when push came to shove, a new day broke before me, my willingness shrank before the Sun, and the inevitable pattern continued.

I was persistently putting the cart before the horse and expecting it to carry me to freedom.

Not only was I expecting, or wishing for the plight to be removed from me after one of the many prayers I shot off, but I felt that my desire for this should have been sufficient for God to then remove it from me.

I had one part right—it is God who needed to work in me.

But I was so focused on the removal of the negative stuff that I missed what he was after: moving in to my heart.

I was spinning plates trying to get the alcohol out, but my vices wouldn’t vacate till I let him in.

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