Trust, but Verify

Courage isn’t opening up all at once, but opening up wisely

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

Freedom doesn’t come from hiding; it comes from honesty. I was hurt very early in my Christian walk by the person who led me to the Lord. It was gut-wrenching and painful. This person shared things I had told them in confidence and they even mocked me behind my back. That experience left a deep wound, a scar that shaped how I saw people for years. From that moment on, I kept my guard up, convinced that if people in the church couldn’t be trusted, no one could. I learned to smile on the outside but stayed guarded on the inside. I reasoned that I was protecting my witness, but really, I was covering my pain. If no one knew my challenges, then they couldn’t use them to hurt me again.

For a long time, I believed that sharing my struggles was like announcing to the world that I was weak and didn’t measure up. But in recovery, I began to see that it wasn’t the principles of trust and confession that were wrong, it was trusting and sharing with the wrong person. Admitting my wrongs (confession), done safely, is where healing begins. Telling the truth to someone trustworthy has become one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Every time I bring something into the light, it no longer has power over me, and I find a little more freedom. That’s what recovery has taught me: when I tell the truth in a safe place, I am actually humbling myself, and when I do I receive the grace that God promises.

God has a way of using safe people to rebuild broken trust. Through relationships in recovery, He showed me that it’s possible to open up again, not carelessly, but courageously. The Just for Today bookmark reminds me that I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for a lifetime. So, I adopted my own slogan: “Trust, but verify.” It allows me to be open and honest in pieces and still feel safe. I can share something with someone, but not everything all at once. I pause and see how they respond, and if it still feels safe, I can share more. For me, it has worked. Healing didn’t come all at once, but through each moment of honesty and grace. My walls began to lower, and I could finally breathe. I learned that trusting again isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a demonstration of freedom from the wounds and scars of the past. And I can see the reality of the promise in James 4:6.

Prayer:
God, thank You for healing my broken trust and teaching me how to be open again. Help me to recognize the safe people You’ve placed in my life and give me the courage to keep living honestly. Use my story to help others find safety, healing, and hope in You. Amen.

Why Am I the One Who…?

Small Frustrations Show Me… Me.

So if you know of an opportunity to do the right thing today, yet you refrain from doing it, you’re guilty of sin. James 4:17

The other day at work I went to get some water, and the machine was empty again because no one had changed the bottle. I had to change it, and right away I felt that familiar frustration rising up. Why am I always the one who has to change it? Why doesn’t anyone else do it? I changed the bottle, got my water, and moved on with my day. Later at home I went to throw something away and the trash was overflowing. I had the same exact feeling and the same exact thought. Why am I always the one who has to empty it? But when I stopped and looked at the facts, it wasn’t true at work and it wasn’t true at home. I’m not always the one doing it. Something else was happening in me.

As soon as I felt that surge of annoyance, something deeper came forward. I didn’t just feel frustrated. I felt unimportant. I felt not good enough. I felt like my needs didn’t matter. And when I caught myself at home with the trash, I asked myself, “I felt this earlier… when?” And then it was like watching a movie in my mind. I saw the water bottle situation at work play out again, and I realized this wasn’t about water or trash. This was about me. My timing. My expectations. My need for things to go how I want them to go. And underneath all of that was a struggle I face every day without even noticing. I feel unseen when life doesn’t go according to my plan.

Recovery is teaching me to pay attention to these patterns. My sponsor always tells me that when I notice similar feelings popping up in different situations, to look for the common denominator – or in my case, the dominionator, because I struggle with control. What I’m learning is that if I slow down and just do the next right thing, even when it interrupts my plans, life gets simpler and my day becomes more peaceful. I don’t have to get stuck in resentment or old behaviors. I can pause, breathe in, and remember that God shows me these moments so that I can grow and become what He has planned for me. And for that I am supremely grateful.

Prayer: Father, help me see the moments where I can do the next right thing. Give me a willing heart to accept things that don’t go my way and teach me to surrender the small things. Thank You for using these everyday moments to help me grow. Amen.

Stop Pretending

Sometimes the biggest step in recovery is letting people see the real me.

The Lord does not look at the things people see. People look at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7

One of the things I love about recovery is that line in the reading that says there are no professionals here. There are no experts. To me that means no one is judging how well I do recovery. It is just a group of people trying to break free from the obsessions and dependencies that weigh us down. I do not have to impress anyone. I do not have to be good enough. I just need to show up, be present, and try the recommended solution to find freedom from the things that have held me prisoner. It comforts me to know that I am not alone on this road. Others have walked it before me, and their honesty encourages me to keep going. If I practice the solution, I can find the serenity they have found.

What I am learning is that recovery puts us all on level ground. Nobody gets to stand above anybody else. The person shaking from withdrawal and the person shaking from fear are not so different. Pain is pain, and it seems to be a great motivator for change. My obsessions will make me sick and destroy me if I ignore them. I imitate a confident have-it-together person on the outside but on the inside my thoughts and feelings are quite the opposite. And healing begins when I can merge the two into one. When I stop pretending to be someone on the outside that I am not on the inside, true transformation unfolds. When I focus on what is going on inside of me instead of trying to fix someone else, I feel the weight begin to lift, and I can breathe a lot easier.

The beauty of recovery is that God meets me right in the middle of all this honesty. He does not ask me to be stronger or have it all figured out. He just asks me to be willing. I do not have to arrive. I do not have to impress anyone. I just need to keep showing up as the person I really am, not the version I used to perform. And when I do that, I heal in ways I never expected. I start to become a better version of me. God uses the honesty of other broken people to help me grow, and He uses my honesty to help them. That still amazes me. When I stay open, willing, and connected, I experience the freedom and serenity that is promised.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for loving me, even though You see my heart, the real me. Help me to stop pretending and let go of the need to perform. Give me the courage to be honest, not just with You, but with others and especially myself. Teach me how to be the person You created me to be. Thank You for setting me free and filling me with Your peace. Amen.

I Didn’t Need Permisssion

Consider yourself challenged.

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous person avails much. James 5:16

In recovery, I’m learning how to face my hurts, habits, and hang-ups without letting them define me. I’m learning to humble myself and share my struggles with people so that I can be healed from their effects. This is my story from last November, and how powerful the tools of recovery really are in my daily life.

It’s common these days on November 1 for people to start the “30 Days of Giving Thanks Challenge” on Facebook. I really wanted to do it. I thought, “What a great idea! And why didn’t I think of that?” Then came the next thought, “How come no one challenged me? I want to do that.” As the days went by and no one invited me, I felt hurt and angry. In my mind, no challenge meant no invitation. That old feeling of not being good enough kicked in again.

Then I had an epiphany. Why not use the tools I’ve learned in recovery? For me, those tools aren’t just about stopping destructive habits like drinking, drugging, smoking, sexing, or gambling. And yes, those same tools have helped me stop all of that. But I can also use them to help me stop crazy thinking and feeling hurt.

So I can make a choice to join the challenge simply because I want to and because I’m thankful and grateful for so many things in my life. Once I made that decision, it was easier to do. I suddenly had clarity of mind. I saw that it was pride that had kept me from doing it in the first place. Because it wasn’t my idea, I was offended that no one asked me to do it. I thought that if I joined in now, I’d just be doing what everyone else was doing. Like there’s something wrong with that, right? My thinking was jacked up. I mean, I get hurt and mad when I’m not invited to a party I didn’t want to go to in the first place. What?! Don’t laugh! Okay, but just a little.

As soon as I started, I felt the healing come. The hurt started to fade, and peace flooded my mind and soul. The book of James says that when I humble myself and confess my struggles and shortcomings to another person, God gives me His grace, and I am healed. That’s when my prayers become effective.

For anyone else like me who needs an invitation, here it is. Consider yourself challenged.