Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4

In the beginning of the end of our addiction, the only persistent desire left is one of absence. The desire to be rid of the gaping absence of contentment.

Our drinking and using had been characterized by the curious tendency to seek after satisfaction by doing the one thing that would slowly siphon out of our lives the very hope we needed.

We desired to be content. To be full. To be happy.

But this was a frame of mind that operated under the assumption that we were important. That life—at least ours—was about us.

It’s not. And when we sober up, we get small. We shrivel and experience the remorseful reality of how big God is. How far we had strayed. How twisted our desires are.

Addiction distorts the core of our being. The promises of receiving the delights of our hearts presupposes we are attuned to what those desires ought to be.

The pure desire for the fullness of relationship with our creator turns out to be a wellspring we can tap for all time. No longer are we resigned to fade into petty, selfish desires.

This becomes living one day at a time. It’s a movement, in earnest, towards Him. A longing to contribute to rather than extract from life.

God, teach me to trust you and to delight in you.