My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?

Psalm 22:1

Have you ever felt alone—the true, deep aloneness of abandonment or despair? It’s often the kindling of fury, and it’s rarely a pretty thing.

For some, being alone recharges their batteries. Introverts like me need time away from others. But this isn’t what we are concerned with here.

During my active addiction it became a familiar sensation to bury the feeling of aloneness by drinking or using. My prayers-often sincere-went unanswered and by my estimation, possibly unheard.

It became easier with practice to replace despair with anger and loneliness with bitterness.

See, it’s a lot easier to get pissed than to get better.

My prayers were supposed to heal. What about all those miracles I grew up hearing about?

What was wrong with my faith that God wouldn’t deliver me now that things began to hurt?

Problem is, I am too quick to demand relief on my own terms. I still want easy ways out of difficult situations. And my perception of time is limited by my ongoing humanity and present reality.

God wasn’t missing. I’d walked away. And then I’d gotten in a car and driven really far away.

He was waiting. He is waiting. But I had to turn my butt around and start the long hike back.

It may be ten miles into the woods, but it often feels like twenty getting back out.

God, thank you for your patience; give me strength to walk back to you.