Many Christians seem to have adopted the idea that boundaries are inherently negative. Somehow Christianity has come to define love as having no boundaries. If someone asks you for your shirt, you give it to them. If someone slaps you on one cheek, then you should offer them the other.
Do verses like these mean you can’t stand up for yourself? Or that having boundaries is sinful?
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It took me FIVE years of recovery to get ONE consistent year of sobriety to remain “clean" from my DOC. I stinking did it and boy oh boy was it hard!
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At times, I’ve wanted to throw in the towel on my recovery. It seemed far too impossible, not only to avoid temptation but to pursue righteousness. Though the life of slavery/addiction I once knew beckons, Jesus invites me to dine at His table and to feast on His word.
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…at times my heart still sings the chorus clearly. Today is one of those times. It also just so happens to be my mom’s birthday, her 53rd birthday - and I should also add - Aerosmith is one of her favorite bands. And to make things a bit more complex, we haven’t talked since November 9th, 2018 (which happened to be my 35th birthday). If I was counting, I’d tell you it’s been 431 days since we last exchanged words and 13,215 days of feeling the gravity of the lyrics to a dumb pop-rock alternative crossover hit…
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Because we fear what others think of us, we withhold information. However, if we genuinely desire relief from what ails us, we must stop caring about our reputation. We cannot save our face and a** at the same time…
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Like Britney Spears’ 2007 salon breakdown experience, I too have shaved my head in moments of insanity. And although I wouldn’t wish for anyone to walk in the path I have, I am grateful for every step I’ve taken. Because with every step, whether one forward or two back, God’s grace has carried me. It’s carried my family. And whether you agree with me or not, your steps and missteps have carried you, too…
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Though I find it easy to bleed out parts of my story as an offering of what Jesus is doing in my life, there are chapters seemingly unmentionable. I struggle with communicating the periodical brokenness I feel around things related to physical intimacy. Like many children, I grew up with little to no supervision. Subsequently, much of my youth was spent trying to gain the respect of older kids. It was there, a teenager 7 years my senior (I was nine) held me down for three long years…
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The list of could haves and should haves is vast and wide. So is the time spent focusing on things we can’t change. And yet, we expect new outcomes and in doing so we surrender ourselves to the cycle of insanity. I get it though, there are plenty of things in my past I wish I could change. I certainly never wanted to experience drug addiction or near financial ruin. There are investments I missed out on, along with a rolling scroll sized list of mistakes I never thought I’d make…
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In moments of shame, I wander down paths of darkness traversing great lengths to remain unknown. Out of feelings of embarrassment, I allow sin to rob my voice. In silence, a lack of confession starves my relationship with God and in self preservation, I drift. Isolated, I allow the current of life to pull me away. Wanting to regain ground but unwilling to sacrifice my pride, I sink to depths not meant for anyone and suffocate. Without confession, I drown.
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He understands addiction and bears with us patiently as we make our way out - even if we’re kicking and screaming like immature children. Even when we’re making a scene and making other people look bad. Even when we cause discord, Jesus still offers forgiveness and receives us…even when the church does not.
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With the type of sorrow grieving an innocent childhood lost to negligence, I found no value in sadness. Besides, it seemed people liked me best when I was upbeat and happy. Though my general disposition is cheerful, It is unhealthy to assume anyone can stay that way forever. 20 years passed before I allowed myself to grieve. In that time, I developed an exaggerated character of myself. Like a caricature, my positive emotional features became larger than life.
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I hate admitting negligence towards my dogs because I like to think I would never cause them harm. However, in drug addiction, I was not only negligent, but downright neglectful. Even though it wasn’t intentional, using made me unavailable to many of life’s demands. Bills went unpaid. I failed to show up to functions requiring my presence. I didn’t feed my animals, let alone myself…
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It took a year for me to get de-programmed. Although I am grateful for the structure and wisdom programs provided me, they run in opposition to Gospel Truth. However, I still sometimes frequent their rooms. Not because I need to attend for sobrietys sake, but….
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We got plugged in. We put down roots. We started serving. We got mentors. Then, I relapsed on methamphetamine. Like pennies on a funnel shoot, it was the beginning of a slow and brutal spiral out of control. There are several contributing factors leading to my decision use drugs, however they are all an exaltation of things above Jesus. Trusting in drugs, alcohol, and pornography I pushed Jesus aside. Even though stress, anxiety, abuse, and trauma have to bow to the name of Jesus, I did not.
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Though she did not do everything right, she did the right thing by showing up. She helped me when I asked and offered when I didn’t. Without knowing if I would ever recover, she put her dreams and aspirations on pause. She said yes to our marriage, when she could have very well said no. With biblical grounds for termination, she could have walked away…
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When staring into the digital abyss, I tend to lose focus of what truly matters. Distracted by social media, entertainment-streaming-services, online news outlets, and websites galore, I exchange my relationship with the Lord for lesser things. Judas did the same too:
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Though it was hard expressing the nature and severity of my spiritual biopsychosocial sickness, I mustered up the courage to take it one day at a time. It just happened this particular day looked like being honest with a potential employer.
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Historically, when rage sets in, The Hulk takes over and I self-sabotage by way of vices. When everything around me seems to be working against me, I get angry.
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Regardless of what it looks like, how we got it, what we risked, or if we never touched it - at one point - didn’t we all have a dream?
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As my grandma used to say, “Running with the wrong crowd gets you nowhere.” Though drugs took me somewhere, eventually it was nowhere I wanted to be. For me, change looked like surrender. Once I admitted…
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