You Lose. But, wait...

Addiction.

What a funny little thing. Isn't it strange how something we do for "us" can control us? And many times, we don't even realize we are being controlled. Isn't it also strange the things that can become our addiction? Cigarettes and drugs at least have an excuse...they are physical addictions. But the same can't be said about everything. People are addicted to so many things--alcohol, sex, tobacco, shopping, vomiting, television, drugs, self-injury, pornography, emotional attention. The list can go on and on.

So, here we are. Human, every one. Addiction or not, we screw up. It'll sneak up on you. One day you're fine, you're okay, you're fighting it at every turn and winning. You tear through every excuse you make for relapse and fight your own mind until you win. You shake, you cry, and you beg God for help. And you WIN! Until that one day that you...just ...don't.

One emotional sucker-punch that you just weren't expecting. And it hurts, and your mind starts to buzz and your soul goes numb. Something inside of you starts to cry out, starts to pray, and it is desperate. The numbness tells that part to shut up, and to your horror, it obeys. And your mind focuses on the way to 'fix' it. You know how to fix it, it says. It would feel good, it says. You're pacing, hands shaking, mind reeling, mouth trying to talk you out of it. Then, finally, your arm moves of its own accord and... you give in. The release is fantastic; bittersweet.

You can never hurt me as much as I can hurt myself!

You LOSE.

It's later. You feel like a failure, a hypocrite, a childish fool. You feel like Adam & Eve in the Garden...God is calling and you are hiding--Don't look at me. The shame is tangible and you spend the next few days feeling like a psycho in a sane person's body.

Sunday. You've barely slept all night and you dress in a hurry. You rush your poor spouse to death and are so desperate there are tears shimmering in your eyes as you pull into the parking lot. Finally there, where hope was once found. You practically crawl into the church and remember what it's like to be the one that needs to be healed, restored. Forgiven.

Fixed.

Mercy is not getting the punishment you deserve. Grace is getting all the benefits that you don't deserve. Being loved in spite of yourself.

And so, the sun rises another day. You feel a pull, a touch, but you don't deserve to be comforted. You want to beat yourself up just a little more. And this is when it finally comes to you. Your mind spins as the monologue rattles on, coming to the only conclusion it can.

What God is this that you believe in? What God cannot handle your shame?

If this is the God that we believe in, then we have all believed in vain.

This is the God that is supposed to save all of mankind. He has created all things, shaped all things, called it all into being with a thought--This God cannot bear the weight of your failure? You arrogant fool!

You are a child of the Living God!

Grace isn't optional.

Who are you to claim the weight of the sins which He has already claimed as His?

You fall at the feet of a Savior who has already forgiven. You cry out, "My Lord and my God!", and remember what the words truly mean. You give up, broken.

Finally--finally, you give up. The weight was never yours to bear.

And, from a failure, your faith is renewed. Like the moment He first claimed you, you are white as snow. In your absolute weakness, it is His strength that carries you.

That's the God I believe in. That is My God.