Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.

Philippians‬ ‭3‬:‭19‬

It’s helpful to recall the end of the path we were on. Addiction leads in one direction. Once we cross into addiction, there is little hope for anything but progression in the wrong direction.

Yes, our god becomes ourselves, our focus becomes skewed, our minds become laser-focused on what we can squeeze out of life.

For a while we get what we want. For a while, there is something left to squeeze out.

But our heart eventually becomes a dry sponge. We were not designed to extract and pillage our very core.

This is what addiction needs, though. It cannibalizes the remnants of ourselves and invites us to continue.

It will end no other way. Even as we recognize this in fleeting moments of clarity, the knowledge of our destructive behavior is not enough to cause us to correct it. Truly, we usually don’t have the power to correct it by this point.

Which is why recovery is a spiritual directive, not an emotional one.

Of course, every part of us is affected and needs healing, but the root of our being made whole again lies in spiritual, counterintuitive actions.

These steps of recovery that are propped up as holy suggestions do move us from self-centered to God-centered postures.

Because here’s the thing: we are hungry, and we’ve got to eat something. We are thirsty and we are going to drink.

So then, we must find the food and drink that satisfies. We just find the spiritual remedy for what is a spiritual dilemma.

Many are confused because they look at us and say, “just take away the alcohol; just sober these people up.”

For those for whom this works: well done. I wish it were that simple for everyone. In most cases, by the time addiction is fully formed, we have moved beyond only the physical ailment. We need spiritual healing—for the long haul.

God, thank you for the spiritual food I’ve learned to love.