Whoever keeps his commandments abides in God, and God in him. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us.

‭‭1 John‬ ‭3‬:‭24

Alcohol makes for great conversation. It’s an excellent salve for the socially awkward. It calms the storm of insecurity and nervousness that seem to threaten friendships and fun.

And if that’s all it did, I’d be fine. There’s a place for it, but not when it runs haywire.

In the new light of sobriety, I remember early days of a raw fear. Not of relapse but of confronting the world unmasked. Of walking into the light with nothing to hide behind.

I felt naked. And it hadn’t taken long to progress to that point. Addiction is a fickle thing. It’ll deceive us into compromising standards we aren’t too worried about in order to take hold of our very life.

And it’ll keep working on us even when we are stone cold sober.

If I’d only relied on my wits in early sobriety, I’d have been screwed. They were dull and unpracticed. And at the first mishap, my ego was so fragile I would have drunk just to retreat from the hint of social reprisal.

Everything felt awkward again. It was like I was back in middle school. Granted, I wasn’t too many years removed from those years, but I kept hoping that fitting in would just happen at some point.

There are no free lunches, though. During my addiction, I put in the reps to do what it took to find satisfaction. It was the wrong path, but I willingly followed it and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

I must do the same in sobriety. I must be willing to follow the tenants of recovery and more important, the will of my God.

This entails reintroduction to the awkwardness I was fleeing from.

Not because I am consigned to be uncomfortable, but because I am commanded to walk through difficulty and to grow in stature through perseverance and faith.

With one foot in front of the other, I have learned the valuable lesson that awkwardness, like memory, fades over time. It may still be there influencing me a bit. But it’s not debilitating.

God, thank you for the momentum carrying me toward your will.