The last few weeks have been nice weather, busy schedule and ho-hum in my recovery journey. I have been wondering what is up with that, whether I needed more meetings, less commitments, better discipline, it made me tired just thinking about why I felt blah about the whole thing.
What I arrived at the other day was an epiphany of sorts…basically my recovery had become much like my grandmother’s living room bible. Most of us had an older relative who had one of these gigantic books, complete with color photos of Moses, Jesus and the apostles. I would look at the pictures and wonder if that is really what they looked like, or if it was someone’s educated guess. Anyway, they always looks clean, almost glow-y and had a Hollywood-aire about them, like these people didn’t ever really get angry, tired or grumpy…they just looked ~ HOLY.
So in some ways, my recovery was sitting in my head, between my ears, looking very glow-y, and therefore not very accessible. I had somehow become detached from it and spent time polishing the panels and placing them on a shelf, admiring them but then walking away and feeling tired, grumpy and as I would discover later, very angry.
When a stall is experienced in recovery, we are encouraged to look for “unfinished business” or stuff that could be lurking in the shadows. Hmmm. Okay, I’ll bite. So I dug. And what I found was shady indeed.
You see, I betrayed a friend during my husband’s relapse, in a most heinous way. I hope someday to make my amends and even have God restore the relationship. But that is not up to me. My part is to continue to walk out my amends and be ready should the opportunity present. But there was someone else in my family who was disloyal to me (in my opinion) and I felt hurt by their actions, so much so that I had only superficially given lip service to a forgiveness that I really didn’t feel, because this person is continuing to treat me in a way that feels hurtful to me. Kind of like continuing to use an eye dropper of salt water onto a wound that is trying to heal. So, I have let this resentment travel deep into my heart and lodge itself there, and it has created a well (pit?) of soupy, gloppy fury that knows no bounds.
Some of this came spewing out last night as I explained this to my group and to my husband. I was taken aback by the sharpness and raw anger of it. Time to dig it out and dump it. God gave me the word picture almost a year ago, and I need it now.
My sin against my friend is written on a paper that is nailed to a cross, and Jesus’ blood covers it. But I stand at the foot of the cross, daring to pull the sin/trespass of this family member who has hurt me from off of the cross and leave mine there? Jesus says “My blood covers all sins and was sufficient to save all”. What right do I have to consider my sins more worthy of His sacrifice than someone who has hurt me? Christ calls me to be “Christ -like”. That means leaving the sins where they are, seeing the blood obliterate those sins, and knowing that it is my choice to allow His healing blood to cover the transgressions I commit, as well as those against me.
But again we visit the magic word in recovery…(say it all together friends!) WILLINGNESS! Am I willing to have Him work on me in this way? Do I see that I can have freedom from carrying the soupy gloppy muck around with me? God says he wants us to live in freedom, in abundance. There is no way to do this in the darkness of the muck.
I choose to bring my good, my bad and my meh to God, to have Him help me sort it out, so I can move forward unhindered by sins and old hurts that want to hold me captive. But God will not wrest them from me. It’s not that I think my recovery should look all fancy like the colored panels that were in my grandma’s bible, because that’s just not the real world. But it should be in motion, with God working throughout and accessible to others that are still to find the steps. And onward we go!