My friend stopped looking in the mirror as she became addicted to narcotics.
It wasn’t being an alcoholic that broke her. It was the combination of valium, percocet, and opiates washed down with vodka cocktails. The mixer changing to fit the time of day. Orange juice more appropriate for the am tumbler.
I walked beside her on this journey.
Held her hand.
Brushed away her tears.
Watched other friends drop off disgusted as her kids cried and needed their mom. Their real mom. Not this shell of a human they didn’t recognize.
I journeyed with her on the long road to rehab.
I walked with her until she checked herself out of the center on the third day. Until us stepping side by side enabled her to believe all of it was ok. Other people’s problems.
Now I step beside her at a distance. Our hands not joined. I hear the words she says to others spread thick with the lies she spreads to protect her disease. I see the new friends as they believe. All of it. Then most of it. Then just small pieces of the story she weaves. Enabling. Some knowing what they’re doing; others not comprehending the damage or the truth. When understanding arrives the fall is steep. The dash away a sprint.
She’s left alone again. Bruised. Battered. Hurting. Tired. Disgusted. Humiliated. Damaged. Broken.
The climb to rehab even harder somehow. The mirror shattered. She doesn’t recognize her own reflection.
It’s too humiliating to take the step. To admit. The diseases claws dig deep into her soul. Picking up the bottle and pouring so much easier. Washing down the pill that takes the pain away.
The professionals advise to detach and let her hit rock bottom. She needs to sink farther before I can help her help herself.
How far done is bottom? Like Death Valley, sea level looms above. Depths of despair beyond reasonableness. Death stares back from her reflection. She’s one bad mixture away from heart failure. Time blurring by. Running out.
I listen to this song and think about how it feels to be wrapped in the arms of heaven, sinking deep in mercy’s sea.
My friend can buy anything monetary. Her bank account deep and secured. What is illusive are the intangibles. Forgiveness. Grace. Joy. She lashes out; clawing for a stronghold.
My friend needs help. She must step forward. Must initiate. Be willing.
Instead, she is sinking deep. Deeper still.
Don’t be my friend.
We may not all be addicts. But each of us have in different ways felt broken, damaged, and hurt. It’s up to us to initiate that first step in relief.
A sea of mercy awaits. Step into His sea of grace.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me