I Can't See Crap

Sobriety is a balloon carrying me higher into an unknown horizon. Trouble is, as the wind whisks it up and eastward, the trees of doubt loom ominous in our path.

I have nothing to fend them off with; I have nothing to steer by. I am wholly at the mercy of the wind.

I’m afraid. Afraid of what may be ahead. Afraid of what haunts from behind. I don’t trust the frailty of this path.

And that’s ok. We aren’t going to be magicked away from our doubts and uncertainties all at once. Perhaps this is the case for some, but as I wrestle with myself I’m encouraged to know that I’ve been given very limited sight for a reason.

I need to be more focused on where I am than where I think I ought to be.

Much of the fuel of addiction pines for yesterday and tomorrow. It keeps us churned up, crouched down, expectant, reluctant, eager, scared.

We need new fuel. Though it seems impossible to imagine how it would even work, we need to leave our vehicle of desire behind and put our trust in something more than ourselves.

We cannot see and usually do not feel the line that connects us to Him. But as time goes by and we seek for this relationship we begin to realize that the drifting whim of sobriety has actually been tethered to Him all along.

God, keep my eyes pointed towards you even when I can’t see crap.