I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Galatians 2:20

Guilt, remorse, loneliness and fear make a powerful cocktail. We add other various flavors to the mix, but the basic recipe remains constant when we arrive in the hollow period between the drunk world and the sober world.

We dance on an edge and we cannot imagine committing to either side. We’ve fled from pain into pain and are confronted with uncomfortable choices.

To continue means heartache and continued decline. To change means upending and restarting and repairing. We really just wanted a quick fix.

But the truth is, we suspected it would come to drastic measures. It’s not very surprising. What is surprising is our unwillingness to jump straight into action.

it’s not very surprising. What is surprising is our unwillingness to jump straight into action.

Time and again the newcomer arrives, is given the solution, and then balks. Sometimes it is pure laziness. But eventually it becomes a choice of inaction. There is work to be done, and the first bits are quite messy.

If we think we can hold on to remnants of the past and meld them into our new life, we may be in for some bad news.

We must cut off the gangrene, and we need help to do it.

Crucifixion of our old life isn’t hyperbole; it’s opportunity. We are offered a new way of life. We are offered companionship to navigate into it. We are offered faith that has legs.

God will take us and work with us and mold us and recreate us. The admission price is simply everything. He wants it all. We get to be remade from within.

It’s crushing. But we needed to be crushed.

God, help me let go of whatever I’m still holding on to.