Lack of self-honesty comes at a cost

There is a pernicious myth that continues to circulate among families in need of recovery that says that a person suffering from a substance use disorder must “hit bottom” before they are ready to recover. Often referred to as a moment of clarity, this magical bottom is supposed to be the eureka moment when, finally, the person with the SUD agrees that they have a problem and decide they want help.

“That’s why it may be tempting to take a hands-off approach to the problem, hoping that your relative or friend’s drug or alcohol problem will just go away - that he or she is just going through a phase and will get better with time. Or you may decide that treatment won’t help because your addicted friend or relative doesn’t want to make a change. But both of these beliefs are myths that can lead to more severe addiction and to greater family disruption. Addiction is a progressive disorder - it gets worse over time.”[2]

Resistance to seeing ourselves accurately is a stubborn bugger and we battle it at every stage of recovery and spiritual transformation. When we rigidly cling to our obsessions and compulsions, it is usually necessary to “let in” more reality before we are willing to surrender to the process of transformation.

I wonder, what was that pastor thinking when he railed about someone else’s stench? How did he sleep that night? How do I sleep at night when I do other, equally knuckle-headed things that are in no way an accurate reflection of the person I INTEND to become? As usual, there are “steps” we can take to not only increase our accuracy of self-assessment, but heal our wounds. And surely, much of what we say and do and think and feel is more a reflection of our need for healing than it is a reason to judge ourselves and others as failures in the faith department.

Sometimes we do things that embarrass ourselves. We can distract ourselves and pretty much guarantee that we will continue to feel bad about our behaving, or we can open ourselves up to change. But first, we have to be ready to change. According to step 6, we have to be ENTIRELY ready to change.

What is your reluctance to see yourself accurately costing you and those you love?

 2 Addiction Why Can’t They Just Stop?  David Sheff, Larkin Warren, Katherine Ketcham and Katherine Eban, Rodale Inc., copyright 2007, p.157.

How do you see yourself? Is it accurate?

Before I could “let go and let God”, I had to let in reality. Back in the days when I suffered from an eating disorder, I had become attached to my identity as a “thin” person. This obsession tied my identity to numbers - the scale, the size of my jeans, the diameter of my waist. Early in recovery I was giving my complete and entire readiness to figuring out how to eat without losing my svelte figure. The problem, as defined by others, was my eating disorder - which was a solution from my perspective. What became a problem for me was to keep my attachment to my compulsive measuring of myself by numbers while getting my cardiologist off my back. One day I confessed this to a friend, who replied, “Calling yourself thin is like describing concentration camp survivors as ‘all muscle’ instead of telling the truth. When they got released from those death camps they were a bag of bones, one breath away from death.” Well, that was rude. But it also let in a bit more reality. I was not thin, I was emaciated. I did not look good, I looked like what I was - dying.

If you have a couple of minutes, sit down and write a list of words to describe yourself. How do you SEE you?

Sometimes we need to let go in order to survive

“Clifford was leaning against the fence, enjoying a beautiful view from the top of the Grand Canyon, when the wooden posts suddenly ripped from their cement moorings. Seconds later, Clifford was plunging down into the abyss.

Halfway to the bottom his desperate arm-waving helped Clifford catch and clutch the branch of a scrubby tree that grew from the canyon wall. Grasping, gasping, he looked both up and down. No way could he climb that sheer cliff, even if he could swing his body toward the wall. But below yawned the chasm, unbroken by any other tree or holding place. To fall would be to die, horribly crushed on the rocks below. No one had seen him fall, and he hung there out of sight, knowing that the wind would scatter his weak voice no matter how loudly he shouted.

Desperate, Clifford cried out to the heavens: “God help me!” Hearing his own trembling voice, he wailed again, “Please, God, help me.”

To Clifford’s amazement, he heard an immediate answer. “All right,” came the voice. The initial warmth Clifford felt turned to a chill wind gripping his body as the voice continued: “Let go.”

Looking down, Clifford saw the huge boulders waiting below, and he knew again that if he let go he would surely die. Let go? He thought. “But God, you don’t understand!” he yelled up. “I’m too far up, I’ll …”

“Let go,” the voice repeated.

Silence filled the canyon. Then, in a weak, terrified voice Clifford called out, “Is there anyone else up there?”

The story is corny and it is true; true of every one of us in the sense that it conveys a powerful spiritual truth: So long as we cling, we are bound.”[1]

Is there anything you are clinging to that you need to release? Anyone? Any expectations of yourself or others?

1 The Spirituality of Imperfection, by Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham, A Bantam Book, copyright 1992, pp. 163-164.

Working on character defects means going against the grain

If you ever visited our church, you would not be overly impressed. We struggle to define ourselves in large part because we don’t try to unless someone presses us. Various attempts have been made: are we a recovery church, a church in recovery, a treatment facility, a ministry - who are we? Our favorite tagline is, “We are not much of a church.” We have no strategic goals or mission statement. We do not keep a membership roll and we are hopeless at the administrative tasks that enable more traditional churches to grow and thrive. Most churches focus on what they can give; often we are surprised by what we receive.

Our cheap chairs were getting old and starting to collapse on people and we needed to buy new ones. As a pure gift, the business owner discounted the new cushy chairs AND offered us some free modular pieces that made for comfy sitting in our common area. Inspired by this new look, I went to the local Home Goods store and purchased some soft white plush accent pillows, a chunky afghan to throw over the back of one of the sofas, candles, fake plants and a couple end tables. As I was checking out, the clerk commented, “You must be redecorating your den.”

“No, my church! I’m super excited!” I gushed.

Her head popped up and she stared in shock. “This does not look appropriate for a church.” She scowled to emphasize my poor choosing.

“Well,” I said, “we’re not much of a church.”

“Why do you go there then?” She asked, clearly confused.

“I’m the pastor.” I responded. Silence. She couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. Readiness for God to remove our defects of character involves not just talking, reading, considering or expressing our spirituality in the ways that others (and ourselves) recognize. It is about experiencing life in a new way. It’s not about conforming to expectations. Just because churches usually have stuffy and rigid furniture does not mean they have to.

Spirituality makes us capable of specific kinds of experiences, ones that might be unexpected, or go against the grain. Not many people truly examine their character defects- it isn’t normal. If we are available to, however, we can see and understand God, ourselves, and others differently. This new way of being frees us from the grip of our shortcomings in ways that are mysterious and attributable only to God! This new way of seeing and being goes great with big chunky afghans and cozy seating arrangements.

Becoming ready to examine our defects is a process

I continue to appreciate how the 12-steps provide guidance for us, particularly in the arena of character development. In Step Six, we become ENTIRELY ready to have God remove our defects of character. All of them? Yes. Previous steps have prepared us. This particular step challenges the participant in two ways: it requires a complete willingness to have God do for us what we cannot do on our own and a commitment to the ongoing work of admitting that we have shortcomings. This one may challenge our more traditional ways of thinking about religion. In a world that often asks us to give more to God as an act of contrition, love or obedience, this step invites us to release, let go and surrender.

Maybe in the spirit of release, let go and surrender we find no need to describe someone as stinky. If my grandchildren said such a thing I might respond, “No potty words!” Because that would indeed be a potty word to suggest that someone left a stench in their wake.

Maybe in the spirit of release, let go and surrender we find a reason to observe our rage and ask, “Why so angry?” Is that not the same question God asked Cain?

Maybe in the spirit of release, let go and surrender we discover that our emotional attachment to other people’s opinions is more about having poor boundaries than it is about righteous suffering.

Step six says: We became entirely ready to have God remove our defects of character. How ready are we?