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“I feel like a man with three dollars in my pocket. Maybe a quart in my tank. And what astounds me is how quickly I think about spending what little I have. I get a little bit back in my soul and I start thinking about advancing the Kingdom. People that need my help. I get a little bit of God back in my tank and I start thinking about who I need to pray for. Lord have mercy” (John Eldridge)
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Hi, I’m Andy, and I’m a fumaholic.
(All: “Hi Andy!”)
I’m really glad to be here tonight to share my experience, strength and hope with you. The First Step says that “we admitted we were powerless over our fumaholism, and that our lives had become unmanageable.” So tonight I thought I would share how my life got to that place.
I’d like to start with a couple of confessions… that is okay in a place like this, isn’t it?
(Room erupts with raucous laughter) [click to continue…]
(The Twelve Ways of Christmas, Part 1: The Way of Surrender)
Journal entry – December 10 – Today I leave my family and the security of the familiar. I go to have questions answered, knowing that I may only come away with more questions than answers. I go to be healed, knowing that the process will carry me through more pain than perhaps I have ever known. I go to learn how to break the cycle of false intimacy and shame, knowing that the price for this so-called “true intimacy” may mean the disruption of every significant relationship I have. But go I must. I have covered some of my confusion in lies just to get to this point. My defenses have been forced to surrender, even as my addictive personality continues to cry out, “I want to live!” I go to get “well” today. And I’ve never been more frightened in my life.
Darla White stares at a random spot on the wall of her new home-away-from-home – a two-bed, dorm-style room where she is the only resident for now. Past the denial, beyond the multiple fantasies of suicide, the grief of losing her 11-year-old daughter, and the months of memories lost to alcohol and prescription drug addiction, Darla is a shell of the woman she once was.
Nobody’s calling her “Supergirl” now, she thinks sadly, as she catches a glimpse of her hollow expression in the mirror. And it’s just as well. [click to continue…]
Took a trip past Oprah a couple of years ago. She was interviewing Russian figure skater Tatiana Totmianina and her partner, Maxim Marinin. Oprah showed a tape of the world-renowned skating champions in which Maxim, as he lifted Tatiana into the air, lost his grip. Tatiana crashed face-first on the ice. It was horrific – all three times I saw it.
In case you missed it, here’s a video montage of her career, including the face plant in Pittsburgh:
Tatiana suffered a concussion but amazingly was back on the ice 12 days later.
“How hard was it for you to get back on the ice just 12 days after that?” Oprah asked her.
“Well, it was very hard,” Tatiana replied. “In the hospital when I woke up, I just realized how serious it was because all my life and career could be over… I wanted to get back on the ice right away because I have been skating since 4 years old. It’s my life.”
Amazing story, but when I heard that last statement, I must confess, I kicked into “preacher mode.” [click to continue…]
“I feel like a man with three dollars in my pocket. Maybe a quart in my tank. And what astounds me is how quickly I think about spending what little I have. I get a little bit back in my soul and I start thinking about advancing the Kingdom. People that need my help. I get a little bit of God back in my tank and I start thinking about who I need to pray for. Lord have mercy” (John Eldridge)
