The words still sting when I think about the e-mail from my father-in-law over a year ago.
“You have lost a great deal – an immeasurable amount to be sure.”
I have lost so much in the last year that thoughts of giving up have crossed my mind more than once. I have lost so much that making a mental list is downright overwhelming. I have lost an immeasurable amount and gaining it all back seems an impossibility.
So is it worth it? Is life still worth living? Is God still worth trusting? Is there anything left to gain that I haven’t already lost?
Sunday the sermon centered around a parable. Jesus summed up the Kingdom of Heaven in a few lines. He explained that the Kingdom of Heaven is like riches in a field. A man discovers it – hides it in a place that only he can find – then sells all that he owns to buy the field.
Just days after writing a blog about discovering the treasure of recovery I am convicted of the fact that I am not always willing to sell out to keep that treasure. I can spend a lot of energy lamenting about the past – reeling over that which was lost. I can spend an equal amount of energy searching for new “treasures” that prove to not be worth a hill of beans as my Southern Grandmother used to say.
Am I willing to spend my energy going to any and every length to seek out what truly matters? Will my life in recovery allow me to see what is to gain by living a sober life will far outweigh what is lost? These are the questions that have been answered in my head but are still being worked out in my heart.
Progress not perfection, right?
Tonight as fireworks ring out in the humid Tennessee sky, I know that it’s worth every tear, every desperate call to my sponsor, every meeting. My recovery is worth it because getting my life back is immeasurably more valuable than living a lie. I’m finding what all the substitutes could not give. I’m building memories with my daughters that we will remember for the rest of our lives and the best part about it all is that I’m present and sober and that I’m living one moment at a time.
May I always cling to the hope that I will gain more through recovery than I lost through the revealing of my sin.