I have no business writing when I need to be packing, preparing, paying bills, picking up prescriptions, cleaning house, and washing …
How to Love a Drunk When you’re an alcoholic you get to tell your story and admit to your illness …
Rilke says to celebrate the questions. 1. A truth has circled me like a persistent fly, zooming in close and …
Hi, After having this blog for six and half years, I’m finally reorganizing. WordPress sends their congratulations. I take the time …
be Light. God spoke and said: be Light. and whether we wanted it, when we are trying the least to …
These words have leaked out of me, like tears trickling down the crevices of my heart. It’s been an all-consuming …
I. In The Wilderness of My Spiritual Doubts The pull on the soul between belief and disbelief has been the …
My first Lenten post is here. These are the indiscriminate observations from days one and two. Often, I allow dailiness …
1. I want to radiate Light in a worn-out world. I want to face others with joy and eagerness. Glad to …
Don’t lose any opportunity, however small, of being gentle toward everyone.
Don’t rely on your own efforts to succeed in your various undertakings, but only on God’s help.
Then rest in his care of you, confident that he will do what is best for you, provided that you will, for your part, work diligently but gently. I say “gently” because a tense diligence is harmful both to our heart and to our task and is not really diligence, but rather over eagerness and anxiety…
I recommend you to God’s mercy. I beg him, through that same mercy, to fill you with his love. – Francis de Sales.
This isn’t my usual type of post. I have some thoughts ruminating into a slow boil. Aching about justice & the …
It’s only been a few days but I feel it. In the hidden, hard place where I keep my little girl heart that learned to be scared too early. That place in my heart has shifted.
It might be that I am writing out the story of how I once was a falling down drunk. I’ve been looking for ways that I was loved through it, and I’ve been realizing
over and over how I was so loved. My husband
lived out this incredible, sacrificial, life-giving, endless, kind, patient, generous, soul upon soul holding of my precious life when I wasn’t into or able to be caring for myself
at all. Didn’t believe I was precious or lovable at all. I guess you can say I couldn’t possibly, since I was more and more consumed
And here’s shit’s honest truth: I will never, ever–not ever–be able to repay him. Every ounce of love that I can give, a life time of kindnesses, every selfless act of thoughtfulness—all of it,
none of it will ever make up for his saving my life by helping me through the drunken years. Trust me I have walked back over every ugly moment that I can remember. And when I couldn’t remember I interviewed him. Phew that was hard on us both.
And that is what he did. His love saved me and it was totally undeserved.
Kind of like what God does in sending Jesus and that’s so amazing I’ve just had to sit
here in my writing chair.
Hours on end, sitting.
Feeling my thankful feelings for sobriety. And for Tom. For my children surviving (though we can all see a toll in their minds and hearts, but that’s another story.) I’m just
So whether it actually was the practice of stopping and writing down what I’m thankful for, I’ll never know. Sometimes God works by making two things collide bringing a providence of actions and
then it is on us how we respond.
How to love a drunk is a love story. Yes, a valentine.
An excerpt from the article I have been writing:
It is breathtaking for me to think how much Tom loves me and showed it both with his long-suffering gentle care. And, in the act of telling me he couldn’t take it any longer he faced his greatest fears. He was potentially losing me either way. That letter confronting my addiction was selfless love.
After drinking an entire bottle of white wine the night before, I was scared to death. And God’s spirit had been graciously preparing my heart, perhaps for years. Tom’s letter and my readiness collided and became the catalyst.
I was ready. That was our miracle. That’s what it looks like to love a drunk.
Honestly there are no sweet guarantees. But Tom never gave up on me. When we married twenty years ago, pledging in sickness and in health neither of us knew what a high price IN SICKNESS contained.