Curious Mental Shift

It was in a church parking lot between services that I decided to start drinking again.

I’d cleaned up for a couple months, but I’d fallen into the common trap of removing a problem without replacing it with a solution.

When the substance is taken away—often for good medical and psychological reasons—even though we may desire to be rid of it forever, it becomes increasingly difficult to cope without it. Without a sufficient substitute, we turn back to what used to provide relief.

Against all reason, in the face of consequence and despite the cries inside—the God-consciousness we failed to nurture—we drink again.

Because we need Him. We need Him, but we don’t realize the extent until we are driven back to the hellscape that brought us to our knees.

In a twisted sense, we are fortunate to have such a blatant affliction. All fall short. All need Him. All need to come to the end of themselves. But the addict is a train-wreck for all to see, and the insanity is front and center—undeniable.

So I drank again. Willing to reach backward just for the chance to feel ease and comfort.

Later, when I tried again, it was obvious that something had to be different. I had to inject something into my life to take the place of the locomotive of addiction.

It doesn’t seem like God will fit this mold; we have doubts; we want tangible relief. But it doesn’t have to make sense. Logic helps, but not always with spiritual principles.

God, help me take action despite my feelings.