I was about to discover that stepping from the shadows makes room for Christ’s light to catch its best chance at bringing forward his healing work.
Venturing out of the murky fog of Shadowland into sunlight’s inviting glow calls for one-day-at-a-time intentional living. Gritty, practical tools – in the grip of a handful of desperate, like-minded companions on the way – came to prove priceless in making headway.
If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.
No truer maxim was ever cranked out when it came to my need for handles with which to navigate a viable pathway beyond broken sexuality. When a fellow is plagued by self-doubt and a sense of helplessness, he dare not (yet again) try to suck it up, marshal remnants of a fledgling willpower and soldier on.
Our evolving band of CPR brothers was supplying the flesh-and-blood community piece. And, the recovery program’s down-to-earth practices gave us those handles by which to prayerfully gain yardage.
On ‘Day One’ we went, each of us, to the mat to contend with a brutal concept. It was ours – within each of our own stories – to grapple with and embrace one harsh truth.
“We admitted we were powerless over our addictions and compulsive behaviors, that our lives had become unmanageable.”*
Reaching up with “quivering hand”, edging my protective mask of secrecy downward the few centimeters necessary to ‘come clean’, I drew a slow breath. From behind my eyelids, I felt the gathering of a tear. Maybe two.
©2024 Jerry Lout *Celebrate Recovery. Step One.