Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.

Jeremiah‬ ‭17‬:‭7‬

Hope is cheap if it’s not kneaded with action.

And the wrong action is more damaging than the complacency that stalks me.

I had put all my eggs in my own basket when I was drinking. I’d struck out on my own with an abandon uncharacteristic of my normally conservative, risk-averse personality.

When I came to the end of things, the very important things became very apparent. It was no longer easy to hide in the shadows.

This was going to end poorly and sadly. If there weren’t bodies, it would be a miracle.

In the moments of clarity we are gifted, we have to grab hold and alter course immediately. Who knows when the next bout of willingness will come?

We beat ourselves into states of submission to gradually increasing levels of personal permissibility which led ultimately downward into an addictive abyss.

Each day is now a choice between trudging toward my true hope, my Creator God, or shrugging that tiny effort and drifting for a bit.

It feels like swimming upstream; it feels like concession; it feels like death. My self-deceit comes from the enemy; from my addiction; from the dark parts of me that still desire the wrong things.

I can maintain hope while sliding backward for a good while.

God, keep me strong, keep me walking, keep me leaning forward.