Jeremiah’s Journey – 19: Take The First Step

I recently read a Facebook post about a man who overcame his drug addiction to narcotic pain relievers. He remarked that a doctor and preacher couldn’t help him. I believe he meant that it was not a medical problem, nor was it a spiritual one. What he needed to overcome his addiction was a decision that only he could make, and in his own strength he needed to take the first step, and to daily, continue his journey through withdrawal and beyond. He is now drug-free six months.  He credits his victory to himself. 

Bravo!

Someone commented on his post that God carried him in his darkest hour as if to say, “You didn’t do it, God did!” That relying on God to deliver him from his addiction is the appropriate belief as though to rely on one’s self is less worthy.

No!

God created each one of us and gave us strengths and gifts, each one not like another. We are made stronger by the struggles that we encounter in life. Without resistance, a muscle grows weak and will eventually die. This man is now stronger than he was before, and as he stated, “Pain is real, but don't cave in, just push. Each day you don't take anything you get stronger. Believe me, it will get better, but you gotta want it.”

Yes!

Without the strong desire for change, one is not going to change. Without taking the first step, nothing is going to happen. Those who are trying to profess their faith, often say, “Well, I keep praying for it, but nothing happens. It must not be God’s timing,” but with true faith, we have to get up and walk. Sometimes our waiting on God is actually God waiting on us . . . to do something He wants. This now drug-free man did meet with his preacher four times and lamented, “Go to your church and ask to talk to your preacher and see if, after four times of trying in your hour of need, you get, ‘I have not the time for you.’ ”

I have no doubt that during this man’s visits with his preacher, they prayed. They prayed for strength to overcome, deliverance from his addiction, and healing to restore his mind and body. And likely, the preacher recommended drug rehab as the solution. The preacher did his job as a spiritual leader and recommended people trained in a drug recovery program.

You see, it really is difficult to see God at work if your mind is numbed with narcotics as the now drug-free man professed, “Ten years that shit closed my eyes, but now my mind can see again.  This might offend some, but I don't care: When I turned to anyone, no one was there but me, and yes god was not there either, so after years of believing and seeing him turn his back on me, I turned my back to him cause god or a rehab is not gonna cure you, only you are. Sac it up and push through it, you will be amazed when you finally know that you can count on you again.”

Stay strong, man! 

You are courageous. God has your back on this even if that is all you show him. God loves you, and as your eyes open to the beauty of His creation, you will find that He is there with you. 

Praying for you!

The man replied to me: “It is not about a god who may or may not be there and it's not about paying someone who pretends to care for someone so they help, that's just about money, because if both things I just mentioned were truly what they should be (doctors and preachers), both would just show up. My point is, you gotta look inside yourself and decide that it's time for yourself just to get better, like I said, you gotta want it before you can get it.”

So true! 

If you want something, you have to take the first step. It’s like playing chess; you have to make a move to get a response. Waiting on God is a good thing. You don’t want to get in front of the truck that only God sees coming your way. And, you don’t want to get in front of His blessings for you. Why? Because then they are behind you. You missed the good fruit that God wanted you to pick.

Another posted this: “Congratulations. But who do you think carried you in your darkest hour? God didn't get you into it...he carried you out.”

The drug-free man responded: “No he did not I'm sorry to say, I mean no offense but I carried myself out, one has to remember you can only count on yourself and that's my point behind it all. I would believe if god had done it I would not have been blown off so to say like yesterday's trash in the garbage. Bottom line to people, if you wanna get better, look in the mirror and don't count on anyone but yourself cause at end of the day when shit hits the fan and splatters all around, you gotta clean your mess up no matter if you put yourself there or if someone else put you there.”

Both are right. 

The drug-addicted man did need to make that decision and he was strong in himself to take the steps he did, and the man is a son of God; he is a Believer. At times, all of us need to admit that we have been angry with God, but God does not turn His back on us when we turn our back to Him. Jesus proclaimed that none of His sheep would be lost. Jesus loves you, this I know . . . and you will someday return to Him. God bless you, man.

The man responded to me: “All I'm trying to say is that it's not about what you believe in or don't believe in, it's about being able to believe in one's self, and that's what most people lose, is that ability there. This country will give about anyone a pill to make something better, kind of odd how the two biggest killers are not black and white but alcohol and pain pills, and both are legal, but OMG if you say weed, you are bad. I never seen someone killed in a car by a high driver, but you can turn the news on any day of the week and see the other. Seems backward to me, but hey what would I know.”

You are a wise man, my friend.

Who do you think carried him through his darkest hour?

I believe God did. I believe God is truly what He should be, and He showed up. Let God do it. Surrender is not a weakness when the one you lift up your hands high to is God Almighty.

This story is dedicated to all the people who suffer with drug and alcohol addictions, to those who who are in recovery, to the victors that overcame, and to the doctors, preachers, and substance abuse rehabilitation counselors who care for them. 

I feature below a dear friend of mine who has her story to share. Please click on the link to hear the story told from her heart of her recovery from alcoholism:

Karen's Story

You can contact Karen Little by clicking on this link:

Karen Little Recovery

SHARE THE GOOD NEWS WITH SOMEONE YOU KNOW THAT SUFFERS.

Jeremiah's Journey is stories of dreams, of adventures, of compassion and love. Take the ride with Jeremiah and begin with Jeremiah's Journey - 1: Roses Are For Lovers

Praise to my Father for the words He speaks to me.

Copyright 2017 © Jeff Cambridge

Jeremiah’s Journey – 18: Shot In The Dark

I have a confession to make. When I wrote about my journey to Italy and meeting the beautiful Italian girl with the bicycle, I was actually searching for something I had lost. I thought I was moving on, putting the past behind me, letting go of the tethers that held me fast to the ground, like a hot-air balloon, wanting freedom, straining upward, filled with buoyancy. I wanted to believe that; I wanted so desperately to move forward, upward, out of the rut of my past choices. You see, I have done some crazy things in my life, and it was filled with more drama than a lifetime on Broadway. Yet, in my subconscious mind, beneath the layers of protection that we wrap our deepest traumas, I was in search of . . .

            My cell phone rang its cheery jingle. I kept it near my pillow as I slept, never again to be without it.

A year before, I awoke with a start. Wide-awake, I knew something was wrong. I swung my legs off the bed and jolted to my feet, much too quickly for my aging equilibrium, or was it the wine that was still coursing through my veins, my antidote for sleepless nights. I glanced at the night table clock: 4:44 its red numbers glared. Stumbling into the cabin room, I searched in the dark for my phone . . . a flash of light, its screen illuminated in the dark room. Ding. That’s what woke me, dings in the night. I have the ears of a bat, perceiving sounds outside of the normal human hearing, even in my sleep. Bleary-eyed, I squinted at the text. Old age, sleepy, or was it the wine? My brother was texting me. Why would my brother text me at four in the morning? We hadn’t talked in several years, not since he kicked me out of his house. Another story, another time. My youngest brother was having chest pains and was in the ER, the text read. Tests were being conducted. An ultrasound revealed a bulging aorta. Surgery was needed. Get here NOW!

That’s how we met. I mean that’s why I was sleeping with the girl that was with me when my cell phone rang its cheery jingle. It all started with my brother and his open-heart surgery. A friend of his had seen my Facebook posts asking for prayers for his successful surgery and recovery. We started chatting, and in my Indian Jones style, I walked in her bakery to meet her. I know, I’m leaving out the details, but that is another story. I want to tell you about the phone call . . . and my confession.

I glanced at the phone number . . . no one in my directory, but from the city.

“Hello.”

“Jeremiah?”

 “Yeah, who’s this?” My skin tingled. I didn’t recognize the voice. Who is this?

“Oh, thank God you answered!” Her voice was desperate. “I found your number on Facebook. I’m looking for my sister.”

“Who is this?” I demanded.

“Julie. I’m Monica’s sister. Is she with you? Something terrible has happened.”

Shit! Monica had told me about her mom’s failing health. Oh, God!

“Who is it?” Monica sat up, holding the covers over her.

“Your sister.” I handed her the phone.

I got out of bed and hurriedly put on some clothes. The intimacy of the night was long gone, and suddenly, I felt foolish lying in bed naked with her. I flicked on the nightstand light. Monica’s face was drained of life. She blankly stared with eyes of disbelief. Oh, God, her mom has passed.

“No. No. No. No . . . Agghhhh!” She wailed and wailed, then handed me the phone. She sat with her back to me, legs over the side of the bed, covers wrapped around her. Nakedness has no beauty when the floodlights of reality expose every crevice of your existence . . . like the morgue during an autopsy.

“This is Jeremiah. What’s going on?” My mind said this was not about her mom. Too much anguish. Hysterical surprise.

“Monica’s son was shot dead by the police.” My head did not register. What? Son? The son that wanted a plane ticket to come home, but didn’t have the money. I was silent. My thoughts colliding like billiard balls during the break.

“Joshua was killed by the police. That’s all we know. His dad called me. We need to leave for Texas as soon as we can meet. Texas . . . land of law and order.

“Okay,” I said automatically.

“I’ll call you back shortly. You need to take care of my sister. I have to call our mom.”

Mom. Mom was okay. This was not okay, way outside of anything I had ever done.

Stay tuned to the continuing saga of Jeremiah’s Journey at . . .

Revelation7Strong

To begin the series, start with Jeremiah’s Journey – 1: “Roses Are For Lovers”