My husband is a drug addict.
That really throws a wrench in my plans for a picture perfect, white picket fence, beautiful life. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not so naive to believe that sans addiction I’d be living that dream either. It’s just not reality, and I get that. However, this is much (MUCH) messier than I’d anticipated.
Let’s start at the beginning.
When we met, I knew that drugs had been a part of his past, and even that he dabbled some at the time. I thought it was recreational, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly living the Christ filled life I strive for now. It was no big deal.
Looking back, I see warning signs. Loads of them. Deleted texts, stories not quite adding up, time not accounted for, money not accounted for. This led to some serious insecurities on my part, which then led to nagging, and this cycle of arguing that always pinned me as the overbearing, kind of crazy girlfriend, then fiance, and later wife.
I could never quite put my finger on what was really wrong. I felt like it was me. I needed to be a better wife. A better housekeeper. Dress better, act better, clean better, manage money better. I’d work hard to be better at one thing, and then feel like something else was the issue. I was running in circles desperately trying to please someone who could not be pleased.
Discovering the true problem was a slow process. I started to notice what I once thought was recreational use, become a much bigger issue. It was hard to find proof, and I’d often convince myself that I was crazy. He always had the perfect excuse for where he was, or why he looked the way he looked, acted the way he acted.
Once, I actually found the evidence needed to confront him, and he confessed, flushed all the pills, and swore he was done. Funny, that was just the beginning of heading much farther downhill.
He would fall asleep (pass out) at times that made no sense. He’d work late. He’d need to stop by and help a friend (for HOURS longer than anticipated). Traffic was always bad, even when I knew it shouldn’t have been. Once he was home, he’d realized he’d forgotten something from the store, and run back out for hours. Anytime I’d confront him that things weren’t adding up, he’d have this uncanny way of spinning things around to make me the crazy wife. I’d feel bad, thinking I was losing it, and the cycle would continue. This went on for months and months.
Then, what I thought was bad, turned worse. It’s truly a blessing from the Lord that he didn’t kill himself, me, or someone else. He was out of control. I demanded we see a counselor. In the first session while trying to convince us that he was fine, he couldn’t keep from dozing off-what I later learned is referred to as “nodding out”. Literally dozing in and out of consciousness while swearing he was sober. I will never forget the way that counselor looked at me. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, and maybe even pity. It was the first time I understood just how big this problem was. And also, the first time I realized I hadn’t been crazy all this time.
Shortly after that session, I found his stash. Dumped out hundreds of pills on the bed, and told him it was time to tell the truth. I gave him a few days to have an appointment made with an addiction doctor, and stood firm that I would leave if this didn’t happen.
He was at the end of his rope, and thank God he was ready to take some steps in the right direction. He got help. He got sober. But, the battle was not over.
This was 3 years ago. He still slips. It’s nothing like it was before, but the tendencies of an addict are hard to break. I’d be lying if I said it was easy, or if each slip didn’t feel like a knife in my heart.
But His grace has been sufficient.
His grace has help me up.
His grace has given me strength when I thought I had none left.
In this season, I’ve experienced what the Lord meant in Luke 6:21 when he said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for your is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.”
I’ve been poor in spirit. So poor, so lost, so desperate. I’ve been so hungry, experienced such a longing for a change. I’ve wept. SO. MUCH.
But, man, have I experienced His blessings.
In this journey we’ve come to find a church, a church family who is everything I’d ever prayed for. I’ve actually heard the voice of God in ways I never knew I could. I’ve truly experienced His presence, His mercies for the first time.
Without this battle, I think I’d still be living a life that is of this world, and just not meant for me. Without this battle, I don’t think I’d know and understand my value as a child of The Most High. Without this battle, I wouldn’t know His voice, or experience His presence in the way I do now.
You meet God is such a different way when you’re in the pit. My very best friends have been the ones to help me in the biggest messes. That’s what He’s become through this. A best friend. And, wow, that is worth everything.
He’s used this season to teach me SO much. He’s taught me how to be a better wife to my husband, and he’s taught me that it was NEVER my fault. He’s taught me to step back and stop trying to play Holy Spirit for my husband. He’s taught me and continues to remind me that this is His story, and He has the best plan and timing. He is Healer, and I don’t have to worry or try to be that.
His grace has been and will continue to be enough.
I don’t know what the future holds. If anything, I can almost guarantee that we aren’t out of the woods yet. But, my God has already written this ending and it is GOOD. So I can breathe.
And so can you.
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