Let Go!

This past weekend I was with 40 women who are recovering from their own alcoholism and/or that of a family member.  I meet with them twice a year, and it's always inspiring and exhausting.  I'm used to my story, to the pain and the grace, but hearing others' stories always leads me to depths and heights that I can barely describe.  These women are miracles.  As am I.  And maybe you.

They aren't miracles because they've got it all together.  Many of them continue to struggle with the effects of alcoholism and abuse.  But they are alive, and contributing to others, and finding joy and meaning in their lives.  That's a miracle.

When I say they find meaning, I don't mean a simple "God kept me here for this specific purpose."  Some of them feel that way.  Some are just sure that God has a purpose for them.  And some are creating their purpose, confident that their Higher Power is with them.  But all of them are listening for where they might find that Power greater than themselves, and they know that they are most likely to find it through reaching out to others.

These lessons and that listening are not confined to people in recovery.  And the experience of abuse and addiction does not guarantee that we will find God or meaning or purpose.  Many people live and die without finding any healing.  But the lesson of addiction is one that we all need, one that Jesus tried to teach his disciples: we have to surrender in order to live.  We have to die to rise again.  Whether it's surrendering a substance or a behavior, or dying to who we thought we were, or risking a change that comes without guarantees, we can't find God's promise for us until we let go of our certainty and self-sufficiency.  We have to step off the cliff - or at least the curb! - to let God carry us.

I'm sad when I go to churches where people don't know how much they need God, or what is possible for them if they surrender.  As long as we go through the motions of looking OK, to ourselves and to others, we deny ourselves the love and strength that Jesus promised.

If you are nursing a secret hurt or desire, let it in.  Let it burn in your soul.  Don't try to manage it or ignore it.  Fullness of life is waiting for you, but God will not insist.  Ask and you will receive.  Knock, and the door will be opened.  Pound that door, loud enough for your own soul to hear it.  It is calling you to new life.