Letter to myself:
Let’s get real. You need a daily get-your-head-out-of-your-ass reminder, and that’s what this is. It’s not about the specifics of your addiction anymore: it’s your willingness to live without God if it means you can stay drunk on fantasy a few more glances, a couple more minutes, another day. But those glances have piled up into years of rottenness that stay under the surface of everything good in your life: your marriage, your work, your devotion to Jesus.
In some ways, it’s now or never.
Letter from my sex addict:
I’ve avoided the hard crack for some time now. But you’re right, I’m still willing to live in a morphine daze. If I’m going to take you seriously, you’re right: it starts with a desire to live with my God every minute. A desire to take my marriage to the next level. A desire to take my creative work seriously, and to thrive. So I’m meditating on that.
But it also will need to get specific. I’ll need to set up some fences for myself. I should probably not drink again for a while. So that’s happening now. And I need to stick to a routine for the next 30 days. This is the start. I am ready. Tear into me Lord Jesus. I need it.