Kel10

By: Lynson

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

On the cross, having been questioned by debouched leaders, scorned by the villainous religious elite, his deity mocked by mere humans, beaten beyond recognition, I can’t imagine what Jesus was thinking as the crowds pled for his death, many of the same voices that had not long before shouted, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.” The Messiah had come, to be sure, only the people his coming was meant to transform used the same fullness of prophecy to crucify him. This short prayer from Luke’s gospel depicts the supernatural, unadulterated love of Christ that would move him to intercede for us, even amid the most excruciating death in human history; we deserved the very cross we nailed him to, but the horror of it all didn’t stop him from showing us mercy.

I used to think addiction was a cliff with an unsuspecting edge, or a hill too steep to climb through, a labyrinth blanketed by fog is probably more accurate. Metaphor aside, addiction saw me, perhaps many of us, running toward its snare blindly, and of course, without knowledge. Because I, too, “knew not”, forgiveness from the Lord had long since seemed a thing too wonderful for me, a blessing fit for those who hadn’t fallen as far or rebelled as willfully. I am encouraged, however, that we have a Savior whose love reaches us at our very worst, a love that never tires, not even as he died on the cross. Only, now that we do know, we can receive the love of Christ instead of rejecting it. We can live sober lives because we know that this love comes not as a license to sin, but to cleanse us from sin, to release us from its power, to forgive us for the ignorance of our past, and to resurrect us at the last day.

By: Rob R

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Matthew 27:46

Jesus’ first saying on the cross quotes the prophetic Psalm 21:1. As someone recovering from sex addiction, is now divorced due to that addiction, and who still fails with sobriety, I often “feel” forsaken by God. “O my God, I cry by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I find no rest.” (Psalm 22:2) I have cried that many times in my “dark night of the soul.” Despite having spent hours in meetings and talking with brothers, I “feel” that “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast.” (vs. 14) I often “feel” so alone, so hopeless. But God! He gives me sight to see a spark of hope–in a Bible verse, or with a friend. And so, “I will tell of Your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation, I will praise You.” (vs. 22) Because of recovery, I now talk often about the facts of God’s grace in my life. The more I talk to the Father, the less shame I carry, and the more I know that God has never forsaken me. In truth, the only one who was every fully forsaken by God was the One who was forsaken in order to bring me to the Father. Ultimately, I have peace that passes all understanding when I realize “He has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and He has not hidden His face from him, but has heard, when he cried to Him.” (vs. 24) Thanks be to God for the indescribable gift and grace of His Son, whose death and resurrection assure that one day I will be completely free of my sin and shame.

By: KW

Recovery culture taught me to count the number of days, weeks, months, and years I’d been sober from sexual immorality. On one hand, counting days—and celebrating these “milestones of achievement”—affirms all the effort that goes into working a program of recovery, and can even provide a great deal of encouragement not only to the guy celebrating his most recent sobriety milestone, but also to the guy struggling to believe that sustainable sobriety is achievable for him as well. On the other hand, sobriety dates can sometimes become a crown of self-righteousness, when pride becomes part of the equation, rather than a memorial of God’s faithfulness. 

When I yield to my “shadow self,” as Brennan Manning puts it, my whole identity can get wrapped up in what I’ve stopped doing rather than in who I’m becoming. You see, with my lips I would “honor” God for blessing me with sobriety, but in my heart I was totally stealing His glory. At one point, it got so ridiculous that if my wife forgot about a recent milestone (which rarely happened), or if a recovery brother didn’t throw confetti and perform seventeen cartwheels after hearing about my latest sobriety accomplishment, I would be tempted to take offense and actually feel sinned against. I was behaving like a self-absorbed infant rather than a mature disciple of Christ, who is genuinely interested in the well-being of others. Obsessing over my sobriety, and fanboying over my own success, turned me into a man of comparison rather than one of compassion. I was stuck in reverse, distracted by where I had come from, instead of focusing on where I was headed.

In contrast, the Bible teaches a completely different way to count our days, through a more noble arithmetic. 

When Moses prayed, “teach us to number our days, that we might gain a heart of wisdom” (Ps 90:12), he was referring to the days of our life, not merely the number of days its been since we last acted out. In essence, Moses was highlighting the reality that life is short, tomorrow is not promised, and counting forward is better than counting backwards. Counting backwards can lead to spiritual complacency, but counting forward inspires a holy urgency and spiritual sobriety in the hidden heart. There’s something very sobering about facing my own mortality that puts addiction and sobriety dates in perspective. With addiction, numbering my days reminds me that the pleasure I get from acting out is temporary; but in recovery, numbering my days reminds me of the brevity of life and helps to improve my conscious awareness of how I’m stewarding my seconds. And so, rather than exclusively counting the days its been since I last acted out, a more noble arithmetic would have me calculate how much time I have left to love my wife; or enjoy my family and friends; make amends; serve my church and fellow neighbors; mentor and disciple others in need of support; or even pursue my God-given dreams and seek to use my time, talents, and treasure to be a blessing to the world. Now that’s sobering! 

Can I leave you with a twofold word of encouragement? 

To brothers, like myself, tempted to find your identity in your sobriety date, remember that sobriety is where you are not who you are. The name by which our Father calls us is beloved son and our sobriety dates are meant to point to the unfathomable love, power, grace, tender mercy, and compassion of God, than to ourselves. Moreover, there are no finish lines in the marathon of recovery, only additional miles of deepening character, maturity, and virtue to run. In that way, as you celebrate future milestones, collect your chips, and continue acknowledging your progress, remember: counting forward is better than counting backwards. As we “number our days,” dear brothers, know that there’s so much more ahead of us than what’s behind us.

Finally, to my brothers stuck in a cycle of addiction, struggling to string together even 24 hours of sobriety, know that you are loved, you were made for more and designed to glorify God. Sure, you may not be able to change your past, but I challenge you to “number your days” and decide wisely how you want to spend the rest of your seconds here on earth. Choose life, my brother (Deuteronomy 30:19). You’re worth it.