Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Psalm 119:105
Maybe I can do five minutes. That thought came to me during one of the most overwhelming seasons of my life. My mind had been running nonstop with fear and worst-case scenarios. What am I going to do now? Where will I live? My life is over. I could not focus at work. I could barely think straight. My mind was stuck in a nonstop loop, cycling through these questions over and over. I could not turn it off.
At the time, I was brand new to recovery and I remember reading the line on the Just For Today bookmark that said, “Just for today, I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for the rest of my life.” My immediate reaction was disbelief. I even questioned where the care and acceptance were in this idea. Twelve hours? No way! I cannot even do one hour. I couldn’t even handle fifteen minutes. But then a small thought rose up in me: maybe I can do five minutes. I wasn’t even sure I could do that. Then another small thought crept up: Maybe I could at least try it? So, for five minutes I decided not to think about everything that was scaring me. I purposely thought about good things and things I wanted instead of what I didn’t want. When the worries came back, I tried another five minutes. What surprised me was how those small pieces of time began to stretch. Five minutes became ten. Then fifteen, then thirty. Then longer. Somewhere in that process God was helping me even when I didn’t know it. He was doing for me what I could not do for myself. He found a way to get through my own poor me thinking, where I was stuck feeling sorry for myself, so that I could embrace a new way of thinking and a new way of life. The little bit of recovery I had was already working and I didn’t even realize it at the time. New thoughts? Try something on my own? What a concept… What a gift!
Recovery still works that way for me today. When my mind starts racing or life feels overwhelming and out of control, I try to embrace this same type of thinking. I come back to that lesson. I remind myself I do not have to solve all of life’s problems today. I only need to take the next right step. I have learned that progress rarely happens all at once. It usually happens one small choice at a time. Five minutes at a time. One step at a time. Today I can do something for a short time that would appall me if I thought I had to do it forever.
Reflection
What small amount of time can I commit to right now to get through a hard moment?