Coffee

In America, for the last ten years or so, coffee is the Christian drug. It is the acceptable drug.

I was giving some thought to how I would describe myself. I was reading Jo's facebook info, and she went to some length, with carefully chosen words, to help her readers understand where she was coming from. I realized that I had not crafted the same high value description, and I was stirred to that kind of thought.

The next thing that came to the surface is that I would say that I am a recovering addict. (It just took me five tries to correctly spell recovering, only one for addict. Hmmm) And not coffee. I have not forsaken coffee. Every seed bearing tree, you know.

I am recovering from addiction to my self. I would not be recovering if I did not have this Holy Wild in which to wander, clinging to my King. Born, I said within moments, "I want." In response, I received. So I tried again, for something else for me. And I received. Later, when I expressed my desire and did not receive, I learned to satisfy myself. It is not all bad. It just defines our humanity, without God. A need or want is perceived. We do what we need to to get satisfaction.

And there is a great defining moment. Getting satisfaction. Being satisfied. So long as I need to get satisfaction, I am feeding my soul to balm the aching places. I am self medicating, self comforting, self sheltering, self embracing. Now being satisfied is the entire difference. Being satisfied means that I am transformed. Satisfied is who I am. My needs are met and the desires of my heart do not originate in my aching, broken soul.

The habits of self care run very deep. The old path is a rut worn so deep that there was no self rescue available. Rescue was available, but accepting it required at least a moment of forsaking my effort.

The habits of self care run very deep. I am recovering. Just like the twelve-steppers who will never say that they are recovered, I will agree. I fall into the rut every day. Sometimes I stay there, immediately finding my hands on their old worn out tools, sure for a while that I will be able to get satisfaction on my own. My shepherd stands there patiently, not even clearing His throat to remind me that I need Him.

Then I realize where I am and what I am trying to do...look up...and reach up.

Thank You, Lord. You are Faithful and True. You restore my soul. You make me satisfied.