Super Power of Choice

It was a long day in a long week, yesterday. This week has really lagged. The other weeks in this year have zoomed by, but this week- it feels like it should have been over a while ago.

Yesterday, I was tired. I was also exhausted. Marsha had been tapping my shoulder relentlessly all week long. How do you react when someone taps you 8 or 9 times consecutively? It seriously gets annoying real fast. But Marsha- she had been tapping and tapping and tapping. I would walk away, and she'd follow. Tap, tap, tap. I'd tell her to go away, and she would for a moment, but then the next moment- tap, tap, tap. I'd punch her in the throat and she would fall to the ground, but just when I'd forgotten about that- tap, tap, tap.

MARSHA/ADDICTION/TEMPTATION, LEAVE ME ALONE! What do I have to do to get rid of you?!

I was starting to give notice her whispers:
I can take you to freedom and bliss. 
You have been so stressed out; you deserve a break.
It's not fair that you have to keep being single.
Just once more won't hurt.
You've already made it 10 weeks; longer than ever this whole year. Your bishop will still see this as progress.
It is progress, even if you give in tonight.
You know you want to.
You can repent later.
You're an addict. This is what addicts do.

On and on she went. I got so tired of ignoring her and fighting her. So I listened. I agreed with some of the lies. Some, I rejected right off. I listened as I typed in something into my search bar that I figured the filter would miss. I listened as I found something that looked like what I might be interested in. I listened as I clicked "play." I listened as I skipped past the boring parts. I listened as I shook my head at myself in disbelief and disappointment. But, I wasn't really listening at all. I was ignoring the truths that were also being whispered to me.

You don't need this.
This is terrible.
This isn't you.
I hate this stuff. Why am I doing this?
You can choose. You are choosing.
This is your choice.

But then I perked up. My choice? If I had the power to choose here, then why was I choosing destruction? Why was I choosing to step away from my safe place, from my God? If the power to choose was mine, why was I choosing this?

So I shut the computer, got off the couch, and walked out of the room. Even as I walked away, I scrambled for excuses, just barely subconsciously. Why? Why had I made this choice?!
It's the addiction
I was just so tired.
It's been such a long time!
I've been under a lot of stress. 
It's not fair.
But every excuse was unsatisfying. I couldn't buy any of them, so I'd scramble for one I could buy. But the next one was just as hollow, so I searched for a better one. Nothing was working. Nothing was justifying my choices. Nothing I could think of was going to save me from my decisions, or erase them. And I was sorta hunched over as I was searching for a justifiable reason, but I suddenly stood straight and said to myself, Some time, I have got to accept that it was my choice. It wasn't the addiction, or my exhaustion, or my circumstances. It was the choice I deliberately made.

Instantly, my mind relaxed. I had released it from its fruitless mission of finding an acceptable excuse. And I realized that I have the power, here. The power I have is in the choices I have. I have the power to choose, at any given moment, and that is a power that is an inalienable gift from God. There was no external force pressing down the letters on my keyboard; no, that was me. I did that. I chose that. My judgement was clouded- yes. My judgement was worsened by exhaustion and addiction and circumstance- yes. But, never, at any time in my entire life, have I lost total ability to choose, and last night was no exception.

This recovery business is a hard lot. It is so hard to be bombarded every day all the dang time with pictures and phrases and images and Marsha tapping all day long, everywhere I look! Reminders all over the place, from a pornographic truck window decal to something as innocent as a couple holding hands. Triggers are practically the air I breathe. But even that's not an excuse, and even then, I always have a choice.

Oh, how easy it would be to yield to the enticings of my flesh! Oh, how desirable it appears to rush back to my former ways of so easily bending to Addiction's demands! And, sometimes, oh, what I would give to be able to truly justify the sins I occasionally miss. Sometimes, I would really like to have my cake and devour it, too, at will. Sometimes, honestly, I would like to change the rules, or my commitment to them, so I could dabble in the darkness that compels me to enter. How easy, my friend, how easy it would be to press "play" a hundred more times, shut out the world, and tune in to the pleasure that Marsha tells me will heal my heart.

But, I cannot, for I know that Marsha is a liar.

My choices last night have not weighed me down in shame. I feel like I should maybe clarify (though it's nunya biznez) that what I chose to watch was a television show that some in this world would quickly define as non-pornography. And it wasn't a "porn video," as far as what we think of those as. And I'm not even calling it a slip. But it was a rotten choice, and it was my choice. a choice that I made. And it was crap. Trash. Despicable, A terrible choice, to be sure. I'm going to tell you that owning it as a choice - MY choice - has been liberating. Identifying it as a choice means that I take accountability (which feels really good!!) and it also means that I separate it from my worth. It was a choice, not a whole-character definition. Also, it means that in the future, I can make better choices- because I have that power.

While I am not shaming myself, I am disappointed in myself on a grand scale. How could I make a choice that I know separates me from Jesus? I know better than this; I really do. I was swept up in a moment of weakness, and I made a mistake. I regret the mistake. But I will not dwell in it. Forsaking a sin means leaving it alone. I'm going to leave this one alone. I'm going to repent and come out of it, and leave it there. I don't want to carry it with me. I don't want to hold it over my head. I just want to leave it there and take God's hand instead. I'm sorry I made this mistake, and I wish I hadn't. I'm also so grateful that because of the Atonement, I can make another choice. I can choose to be made new, and to progress. I can choose to learn from this and rise as quickly as I can. And that is my choice, now. My choices last night were very bad choices, but I don't have to let that propel me into a series of further poor choices like I would have in the recent past. I can make the good choice and turn back to God.

What a gift it is to choose! I choose repentance. I choose eternity. I choose hope, forgiveness, and accepting the grace of my Jesus.