Step 1: Admit

We admit we are powerless over our addictions, brokenness, and sinful patterns—that in our own power our lives are unmanageable.

For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.

Romans 7:18

“Come on, babe. It will be fun. Please? Just this one time.” Roller coasters terrify me, but did I stand my ground on that sweltering day and refuse my husband? No, I did not. Sweat rolled down our backs as the line inched forward. An hour later, we finally strapped in tight near the front and began our fateful ascent. Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack. At the summit, speakers in the seats paused the music’s crescendo to allow a sickening whisper: “Are you afraid?” Riley swears he peeked and found me nodding in response, my eyes shut tight. One. Two. Three. Drop. And there, careening down the steel spine of The Bizarro, a lifetime’s worth of control wrapped around the idol of safety pushed itself out of my mouth in a guttural statement from the depths of my soul. What was that statement, you ask? Apparently, I needed to announce to the entire crowd at Six Flags that “I AM NEVER GIVING BIRTH!!!”

Step 1 feels a lot like that. You’ve waited a good amount of time in line (Groundwork), and the ride is about to begin. You strap in and count the clacks to the top. And somewhere on the way down, knowing that control is a delusion, you give up your deathgrip on the bars and let loose. (Though pronouncements of one’s non-maternal destiny may differ.) Believe it or not, this throwing my hands in the air is becoming a new favorite rhythm. I can release the demand to dictate my world and find freedom instead.

Until entering recovery, I genuinely believed I was capable of managing life on my own. Any failure simply pointed out a place I should try harder or get smarter. I’m an educated, determined, goal-oriented woman! Of course I can handle myself. That’s the very least that should be expected of me. When the world outside gets difficult, and the world within starts crumbling, I rush around with my self-improvement clipboard and drill sergeant attitude: Come on! You call that an attempt? Don’t make me laugh.

Enter Step 1.

The beauty of this starting point is in the admission that no human can properly handle herself without help. We were never designed to operate independently of our Maker. So I’m not a special kind of broken when reality forces me to confess that, despite all of the resources and all of the learning and all of the advances of this modern world, I truly cannot succeed at life on my own. You could give me a thousand years, an unlimited bank account, and every book ever written, and my best efforts to manage myself would fall woefully short of what God longs to do in me.

The daily content is filled with meaningful challenges, but my favorite two are these:

Accept help

The God of the Bible loves you, pursues you, and wants to help you. You may not be certain that you want His help, but He offers it … God also provides people to help you.

Week 1, day 5

Giving comes naturally to me; asking for pretty much anything is painful. Often it’s pride: I am “above” receiving help. (Cringe.) Sometimes it’s unbelief: I don’t want to admit a need that will go unmet. My refusal to request assistance is ridiculous. Last month, I convinced myself I was literally dying of the flu and would not ask Mr. Man to bring me some medicine from the other room. Am I a drama queen? 1000%. Whether it’s in these tiny moments of daily life or at massive junctures, I’d really rather go it alone. And do we know where that has landed me? Right here in recovery. Community is something I need to mature into.

Rely on God for today

God will give you enough to get through today if you rely on Him. Yesterday’s failures do not have to keep you from healthy living today. Concern about tomorrow’s steps does not have to keep you from taking today’s step. The path to freedom is a long journey taken with God one step at a time, one day at a time, and sometimes even one moment at a time. Make a decision to live in today’s step. If you do this, the recovery process will not overwhelm you.

Week 2, day 5

Living five steps ahead is a counterproductive recipe for exhaustion: “If I do _______ now, it will probably mean I’ll eventually have to do ______! And what would happen then? I should really think this through before obeying God.” Like if I realize I hurt your feelings, I’ll probably have to apologize later. Which is nerve-racking for someone who happens to fear confrontation and conflict. Things would be much more comfortable if I remained happily oblivious. The passage above provides a conduit for sanity, and suddenly all of the fuzziness snaps back into focus. Oh, yeah… this is what matters! Not guilt or fear, not yesterday or tomorrow; right here, right now. This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it. My anxious and guilty heart slows down to meet with Jesus in this space. The past? Yes, He was there. The future? He’ll be there, too. But the present is where I’m called now, and I’m not inhabiting this moment alone.

One day I hope to be spiritually developed enough to heave a sigh of relief at my very human limitations. I’m not capable of being all-powerful or all-knowing or all-present … and that’s such a gift! (In full transparency, right now, it feels more like a rude truth. I obviously have a lot of maturing to do.) So here I am, somewhere on the way down the roller coaster of life, screaming my lungs out, with no way of keeping myself safe. And right there past the wall of fear is a rush of exhilaration because the track is secure; I’m in good, strong, capable, nail-scarred hands. All that’s left is to enjoy the ride.