Colder. Snow in the mountains. Forty degrees and raining here. It won’t be long until I am wearing my wool undershirts to keep warm.
Yesterday was tough. Yes, it’s becoming a theme. But I am still here, still breathing and still fighting to push past my feelings. When you feel an oppressive agony to your core, that defies explanation and it is so intense it causes physical pain. Yup. That’s where I was last night, and early this morning.
My tired brain began to pull up every poor decision and hurt feeling I experienced in the last five years. And as that happened, I announced to my brain and to my heart that I had already walked through the process of releasing the pain and grief to God through recovery. The only power it had over me was that which I gave it, at that moment. And it was sucking me down fast. I had to muster every last ounce of courage I had to shout it down.
Recovery doesn’t mean that our hard lives just magically disappear and we get to somehow rewrite history. Nope. Our wreckage is there with us. But it doesn’t have to define us or be a snare. It’s purpose is to remind us where we came from. And, it’s been said not to ever be ashamed of our story, because it may be what speaks to someone else and gives them a glimmer of hope.
But, I must steer clear of morbid remorseful reflection on past events. Nothing good comes from camping out in the valley of the past. It seems familiar and comfortable, but there is no potable water and the food has no nutritional value. We don’t grow, and God says “move along, move along”.
It’s time to move along. Much love to all of you tonight.