When Serenity is Scary

Most addicts in recovery are well-acquainted with the oft-quoted adage above, known as the Serenity Prayer. Google's definition of Serenity is "a state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled." Oh, sweet serenity! Serenity is trust in God, a trust that because He is God, everything will be alright.

My last slip happened on my 123rd day. It happened on a day after I'd enjoyed many consecutive days of abstinence, as well as straight-up peace; serenity. I had been so happy. On Christmas Eve, I posted the following on Facebook:

"All month my heart has been soaring with happiness. I don't know why, really, but I'm not gonna overthink it. I'm just so happy and so grateful and so covered in love. Even with the stress and busyness of the prison program prep, my ex calling CPS on me and having them in my house, the stress of Anna's birthday party, of her choir program that I accompanied, of worrying about sufficient income for mortgage and bills and gifts- even with all the unpleasant goings-on- I just feel I have been blessed beyond my ability to begin to capture in a FB post. I feel a beautiful calm in my heart, a peace, a serenity, a reassurance to the point beyond doubt that everything will be okay always.
I'm just happy."

And it was true. I had experienced an insane amount of continuous peace. My trust in my Savior was carrying me insomuch that I felt like I was floating.

But, I began to fear the peace. Peace is something I'm still not so familiar with. I'm much more familiar with continuous torment. I am much more intimately acquainted with fear and self-loathing, with the uneasiness of the sin-afflicted soul. I'm familiar with feeling like life is crap with moments of joy, rather than life is joy with moments of crap. I look back and see so clearly that the consequence to sin is misery! I was miserable- I drank misery because it's all that was available, as far as I could see, and it was abundant in a steady stream. Serenity came sometimes! Serenity was dear and fleeting, like a first backyard butterfly of the summer. And, because Addiction was my lifestyle, serenity rushed away quickly- every time.

I had taught myself that serenity was fleeting. But, it wasn't serenity; it was my own repentance that fled so readily. My own obedience.

Even so, I think my last slip, on my 123rd day the other week, was in some way a self-sabotage. This long-time serenity became bewildering, and even suffocating in my untrained heart. I couldn't handle the peace of trust, because it suddenly began to feel foreign. I withdrew trust, and, not so surprisingly, surrendered my sobriety. I had no such intention! Truly, I didn't. I regret it wholeheartedly.

But, I'm lying right now. Sort of. I mean, serenity isn't foreign. Serenity feels like home. It's secure and warm and safe. It feels like a hug from a loving, accepting, fully-invested parent. It feels like a memory- a memory of pre-mortal eternities. Nothing feels more right than serenity. What's foreign is my acceptance of it, my desire for it, my commitment to it. The truth is, I became overwhelmed by being too far away from my old friend Marsha. I became frustrated that serenity and Marsha are utterly incompatible. There is no and! There is only or! Sin or serenity. (Incidentally, I recommend the movie Into the Woods,) Serenity is infinitely better but sin is easier. 

So, I guess if I'm being honest with myself, serenity isn't scary at all, ever. What's scary, when I withdraw my trust in Jesus, is the idea that choosing serenity means choosing a lifestyle of repentance, and of giving up forever the lusts (sexual and otherwise) of the flesh. 

I chose momentary pleasure and escape over serenity and good favor with God. That's it. That's what I did. I am so grateful that I understand the Atonement well enough to know that my choices are not sure damnation as long as I turn back to Him and walk His path. I am grateful to understand that my worth remains unaltered by this slip! I am grateful that I am now wise enough to stand up quickly and dust myself off, rather than rolling in the mud for a few days like I used to do. I'm deeply grateful for a Savior, who has covered me for even this, again. I'm so sorry He had to.

I'm also grateful serenity isn't a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I'm grateful that I can choose it now. And I am choosing it now. 

From Weakness to Strength

**this is a quite informal post as it began as a Facebook post.**

The scriptures, both Bible and Book of Mormon, contain promises that God can/will turn our weaknesses into strengths if we turn to Him in humility and faith.

I decided to test God. I figured this was okay, since in Malachi chapter 3 He basically says "Try me and see...."

As my friends and family and anyone who has ever been in my presence know, I have a larger-than-life weakness of disorganization. I hate it. My brain is not organized and therefore my life is not organized. I have ADD as well as a sorta-phobia of schedules and lists (like the idea of them makes me almost hyperventilate), and organization is just not my BFF. It's basically my worst enemy. I have tried MANY things to combat this weakness on my own. I have tried lists and schedules- both electronic and paper, reminders in my phones, self reward systems, therapy, medication, etc. Nothing helped, ever. I figured I will always be this way, and my life will always be extremely difficult because of it. But, as I said, I recently decided to test God on His promise.

I approached Him in faith and willingness to accept His will. If He wants me to suffer this weakness till I die, fine. I will. I went to Him with my weakness and basically said, "Father, this disorganization weakness is a real life-detractor. I disappoint people by forgetting. My house is a mess. I lose things all the time. It affects my parenting because my weakness prevents me from being consistent. You promised to turn weaknesses into strengths if we come to You in faith. Here I am. Please help me. If it's Thy will, turn this weakness into a strength." And I have been so praying for the past few months.

And, well, over the past few months, I have NOT become organized. But I can testify that I AM *becoming* organized. And it is blowing my mind, my friends, it is blowing my mind. I have made charts and calendars and goals. I fail them daily but I succeed daily also.

The biggest, hugest, most remarkable change is that charts and schedules and lists don't scare me anymore. As I write that, I become a little weepy because it's a HUGE change! Our good Father, who is a God of miracles and a God of consistency who keeps His word, has shown me, little by little, that I have the ability to create and maintain structure. He has shown me, little by little, that I can try and fail and try again, and every time I try again, I get a little closer to my ultimate goal of organization. Things that seemed so impossible and terrifying before, now actually seem doable to me. I feel like I can. I can become an organized person. I would have never said that 3 months ago, but I can say it now because I truly, deeply believe it. I can become organized, because God can turn this weakness into a strength. And I think He will, because I know He is.

I am not organized. Compared to mankind's normal capacity for organization, I am not even close. But compared to 3 months ago, I'm basically Martha Stewart! God is giving me the motivation I need to maintain the schedules and ideas He is helping me create and begin. This is such an enormous miracle. Maybe it's one that only I can understand and appreciate, because at this point, my new-found organization skills are not really visible to anyone but myself. However, keep watching, friends. Keep watching, and you will see me become organized. And you will be amazed.

What does this have to do with addiction, you may ask? Well, what doesn't it have to do with addiction? Is not addiction weakness? I know we may have some of our weaknesses till we die. Elder Jorg Klebingat said “Acknowledge and face your weaknesses, but don't be immobilized by them, because some of them will be your companions until you depart this earth life.” But that doesn't mean that God won't help us with even those. I don't know if I'm going to be an addict for the rest of my life, I really don't. I wish I could say that I know God will heal me of this weakness. And-- I really do know that He will-- eventually. In this life? Maybe. But if I am not healed of addiction before I die, I am promised, as are you, that we will be provided a way to make it through. Jesus bore already the weight of our burdens, and when we let Him carry it, when we yoke with Him, we can make it through anything.

Some of my favorite verses of scripture are found in Mosiah 24:

 13 And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage.

 14 And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.

 15 And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens
with ease,and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.

I love it because it's a dose of reality. It's like, hey, you know what, you may still have these rotten circumstances to live in (the people referred to in the above verses are essentially slaves), but as a result of your gratitude and faith, I'll make your circumstances feel less burdensome. They're still there, and it's still rough, but I'll make it so easy you can bear up your burdens with ease. Trust me. I don't always take the circumstance away, but I will always reward your faith and prayers. 

And so I go. I go forward knowing that if I'm an addict till I die, God will help me as carry the weight of addiction as long as I trust Him. I go forward knowing that if it's His will for me to become organized (and I feel that it is), then, according to my faith and work, I will become organized. 

It's a beautiful thing to have so much access to so much Truth.

(you guys, I don't know how this font changed color and size, and I don't know how to fix it.)

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.

I Would Take Her to a Safe Place and Tell Her Truths

I had a therapy appointment today. I love my therapist, which I have mentioned before. I love having a therapist- a good one.

Something interesting and a little shocking happened yesterday. I haven't really spoken much about my marriage here, as it's not the place. And yet, today, it's the place.

My marriage was traumatic. Yes. My poor brain and heart and soul experience much trauma while in that marriage. While I was in it, I all the time made excuses for my husband's behavior.

Yesterday, I had reason to go to the very apartment complex my ex and I lived in for over half of our marriage till the end of it. The same building, even. Just a few doors down. I haven't really needed to be in that area of town since my ex and his girlfriend moved out of our apartment (they'd moved in shortly after I'd moved out) after our divorce. That's been 7 years now. So, as I turned onto the street of the apartment complex, the flashbacks blindsided me. Sudden, abrupt, simultaneous memories came at my face like fiery arrows in a battle in which I was the only one on my side. Surprised, my body even reacted, and I took in a sharp breath, tightened my body, and thrust my head to the headrest as if to back away from the attacks.

There's the park where I would take my baby in the middle of the night to get away from my husband after he'd been yelling at me or the baby over something. And suddenly, I was there, in the cold, sitting on the swing and sobbing, and hoping against hope that he would wonder where I'd gone, and come find me. Hoping against hope that he would find me and say, "oh, baby, I'm so sorry for saying those mean things. I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry I hurt you. Please come home." Hoping against hope that I wasn't the person he treated me as. I would sit there with my baby, crying and thinking my husband was maybe wrong for screaming those poison words at me- at her, even- but also knowing that it would be I who would apologize. I used to escape to that park frequently when I felt afraid or betrayed by my husband and couldn't talk to him about it (because he yelled more when I did and turned it around on me, every time).

There's the little softball field where he screamed at me in front of his work friends, in front of his girlfriend, in front of our kids. And suddenly, I was there, unable to hold back the tears in front of his softball teammates as the kids and I cried and walked back home. Suddenly, I felt it all again.

Here's where I slid on the ice and spun into a parked car. And suddenly, I was in the living room, telling him what had happened, and he was yelling before even asking if the kids and I were okay.

There's the apartment. Okay, too many horrible memories to even list that happened in that 2 bedroom itty bitty space. But dozens of them flew at me last night. It was suffocating.

I was surprised. I didn't expect that to happen, at all. I thought I was over it! I thought I was over all the marital strife, over him, over the hell of being his wife that ended 7.5 years ago. I was so annoyed that the memories would affect me that way. I cried and cried on the drive home, and I was annoyed about that, too. Why? Why should it still hurt? I don't live there anymore. I don't love him anymore. I don't want him to be a good husband to me anymore.

I explained it all to my therapist and she explained trauma to me. She told me I was having flashbacks, and said that it indicated that I was in a healthy place.

Wait, what?

Apparently, feeling and acknowledging pain is healthy. OH YEAH! Marsha thrives when I don't acknowledge pain, after all.

So, we talked more about trauma, and what happens to our neurons during certain experiences which makes those experiences traumatic, and we talked more about pain. And I began to understand.

I'm still going to explore this more. I want to understand why God made us humans this way. I want to know what is the purpose in making our brains so that they experience trauma, and pain of an event or events years after they occurred. Because, He did that on purpose. He made our brains work that way for a reason, and I want to find the spiritual reason behind my trauma, and my pain.

I said, "But if I get my finger burned 7 years ago in a park at night, it wouldn't still hurt." and she said, "But, if someone held an iron to your skin and it burned through all the layers of your skin, through all your nerves, your skin might heal, but you'd have scars and nerve damage for maybe the rest of your life. And would you say to someone with that kind of wound, 'you shouldn't still feel that?'"

Well, no. Oh.

Then she suggested we visit those swings. What were my thoughts on those swings? What were the lies that I were believing as truths while I sat on the swing at the park at midnight? What were the lies my husband was telling me by his behavior toward me? I gave her a list.

• I'm not good enough
• Not a good enough mom
• Not a good enough wife
• A burden on my husband
• Stuck with my husband because I chose him
• Not worth an apology
• Not worth respect
• Worthless
• Not worth being heard

That's a portion of the list. And do you know what she did? She said, "What would you do if someone told your daughter, 'You're not good enough. You're nothing but a burden. You're not worth apologizing to. I'm stuck with you now, so you have to do all the things I want.  You're worthless.'?" Well, I instantly became furious at the very idea of someone telling my sweet daughter those awful lies. I was angry beyond description at the hypothetical loser telling my daughter those horrible things. I told her, with tearful eyes, "I would be so angry at whoever would tell my child that. And I would take my daughter to a safe place and tell her truths."

How I would so desperately try to undo the lies she'd been told! How I would enfold her and guide her to a safe and quiet room, and tell the truths about her, and tell her that the things she was told were not about her at all, but about the person saying them. 

And my therapist repeated softly, "I would take her to a safe place and tell her truths." And it hit me then that there were truths -- are truths -- to my ex's lies. And not only was he simply wrong, but the very opposite were truths! I was worth respect. I was worth an apology! I was not a burden on my husband, but a blessing to him. Not worthless; priceless. 

What if I'd known then? What if I could go to the me on the swings in the night and tell her truths? Is my worth any less than the worth of my daughter? Does God love me any less than I love my daughter? Impossible. He is God. I am mortal and have a finite vision. And you know what? I can take my own self to a safe place, and listen to Him tell me truths. And He will. He will because I am His daughter, and He created me to have pain and trauma, so He knows about my pain and trauma, and He can heal me. He wants to. He wants to heal me with His truths- the truths about me.

Now, as addicts, we tend to easily believe the lies. We believe we're not worth it. I mean, we really, legitimately believe that, don't we? We believe it so much that we know it to be true! Most especially in our most active times of indulging in our addictions. And our addictions, and our ease in "allowing" them, reinforce what we think we know to be true. In our darkest addicted points, we can see no other possibility of truth, can we? Just like when I look back to the me-on-the-swings, I remember that I just couldn't have even begun to believe that it was my husband who was wrong, not me. I couldn't have begun to believe that I had worth in that marriage or worth at all. 

I think we could all benefit, friends, from going to our me-on-the-swings (and don't we all have one?), and leading her or him to a safe place, and telling her or him truths. Telling her or him the truths that God tells us. As addicts, most (all, I think) of us have several moments in our pasts with people who were supposed to love us, who maybe even did love us, but who taught us and reinforced to us that we are worthless. 

It was a lie. It is a lie created by Satan. Don't you believe it! Oh, go back to your swing-self and tell him or her right there that it is a lie! And that you don't have to believe it anymore. Go back to those times and give yourself permission to identify those things as lies, and then also tell yourself the truths. We wouldn't be addicts if we weren't running from stuff and hiding. Turns out the things we run from are all lies. "I can't do that." lie. "It's too hard." lie. "I'm worthless." lie. "God doesn't care about me." lie. "No one cares about me." lie. "I can't do anything right." "I am a horrible person." "I don't deserve to live." "What's the point? I'm not good enough." Lies, lies, lies! "I can't do this by myself." Well, that's true, but not in the way we tell it to ourselves.

How interesting that addiction is all based on lies. I think that's true. My addiction is fed by and sustained by lies. If I believed the truths all the time, I would be free all the time. 

John 8:32-- And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. 

Not a Priority

I am surrounded by awesome, supportive, loving, brilliant people. It's really amazing. I'm humbled and inspired, often, by the people around me and their wisdom.

So one of these such people said something to a group the other week that made a permanent imprint in my mind. She was talking about how she reads her scriptures, and how she used to say she didn't have time for scriptures, but then she changed "I don't have time" to "It's not a priority." And then she faces the truth of it all.

It was very meaningful to me. Because I often rush through my scriptures because I don't have the time. But, really, that's not it at all, is it? No, it's really that I'm not making it a priority. If it was a priority, I would make sure to make adequate time each day for study.

So, I've been trying to change every "I don't have time" to "It's not a priority." This has been embarrassing and comforting. Oh, man, I don't have time for a quality FHE. Oh, wait! No. It's not a priority. Quality FHE is not a priority, and I have to face that truth.

Well, I just don't have time to help my kids with homework.
WRONG. It's not a priority. Something else is a bigger priority.

Hmm, I don't have time to shower today.
WRONG. Just not a priority.

But. Guess what else? While it makes me more accountable, it also takes off the pressure. One day last week, I was busy. I had work, and grocery shopping, and babysitting for my sister, and other important things. Just before my sister arrived to drop off her child, I looked at my laundry that I hadn't yet done and sighed. I had wanted to get it all out of the living room and hallway before my sister got there. I was tempted to believe that because my laundry wasn't done, I was a bad person. I lamented with great, shameful, anxious regret, "I didn't have the time."

And then came the whisper I'd been telling myself, "no, it wasn't a priority."

I smiled. The laundry wasn't a priority that day. And do you know why? It's because work was a priority. Dinner was a priority. Exercise with my children was a priority. Family scriptures and prayer was a priority. Personal spiritual study was a priority. Babysitting was a priority. And with all those priorities, I literally couldn't have fit in laundry. Not without having sacrificed one of my other priorities that day. For the first time in my life, I felt grateful that I failed to do a chore. Everything else I'd done was more important.

And so I instantly forgave myself for neglecting the laundry. It wasn't a priority, and that was okay. And not just okay, but, for that day, it was good.

Now, when I'm willing to admit that finishing Step 10 hasn't been a priority, I'll re-prioritize and get back on track. :)

One At a Time

It's true what they say, you know. You can't eat an elephant in one bite.

General Conference was a whirlwind of awesome for me, as it usually is. In past years, Conference has been both uplifting but also depressing, and served as a reminder of how much I suck, how much I'm not doing, how much farther I have to go. Often, I would let it discourage me.

Not this time. Because I know that I can do all things through Christ, and that Christ actually doesn't expect me to do all things at once, not even with Him.

I was especially touched and inspired by Elder Jorg Klebingat's talk. The fact that I was inspired by his talk is a mark of progress all on its own! He touched very much on many things that I am just not doing. Take accountability for your spiritual well-being, he said. Take accountability for your physical well-being, he said. Stop being selectively obedient. Don't expect the world to cheer you on. Forgive everyone everything all the time- I am never exempt from this commandment! (Instantly, I want to say, "but, so-and-so is a genuine jerk," "but, I shouldn't be treated like he treats me," etc. But I know I am not exempt!). Acknowledge and face weaknesses but don't become immobilized by them (!!!). On and on he talked, and I was racing to write down everything I wanted to remember- which was basically his whole talk. His talk wasn't exceptionally spiritual, I guess, but it touched me very deeply, spiritually.

During his talk, in addition to taking notes, I was also making a family plan. I was writing down what our next FHE would entail, which were family goals for all the improvements I wanted to make based on this talk (and other subsequent talks).

Here's my FHE plan, taken from my notes:
FHE

• exercise plan
• meal plan
• save money plan
• help the poor and elderly plan
• spiritual/physical preparedness
• indexing

I was fully intending to go over plans for each of these with my kids for FHE. And we were goign to make all these changes right away. We were going to dive right into daily healthy eating, exercising, helping out the less-fortunate, the difference and connection between spiritual and physical preparedness.... I was planning to make all these calendars for our health plans and service plans, and we were going to do all the things every day, dangit. Also, a chore plan was in the mix, which would certainly magically turn my home into Martha Stewart's. It was all going to work. Because I can do all things through Christ! And He will help me with my plans! And I have to do all these things! And I will, for sure I will! I even wrote next to my FHE plan: "God will guide!!!" as a reminder to myself to not become scared or overwhelmed.

So after conference on Sunday, my family gathered at our parents' and had dinner and visiting. I decided to ask my dad and brothers for a blessing to help me keep all my PLANS! organized and to help me stay motivated. They were happy to comply. My dad gave me a wonderful blessing and I wish I'd have written down all that he said, but, I didn't.

However, one thing he said jolted a switch in my brain and the light it turned on seared my memory. "Take it one at a time."

WHAT?!? ONE AT A TIME?!?!

Whatever. Like I'm really supposed to obey the commandments one at a time? Hey, don't mind me while I steal from my neighbors- right now I'm working on "thou shalt not commit adultery." No. I can't do this one at a time. It's now or never; all or nothing. I have to eat well and exercise always and help all the poor all around me and do family history and save money- I have to do it all now, and I can because it's a commandment. 

But, "one at a time" resounded. It was a fadeless echo in the newly lighted room in my mind. One at a time, One at a time. I argued with it. I tried to dismiss it. But the more I thought about it (it was a fadeless echo, remember? I couldn't not think about it), the more I realized it was actually from Heavenly Father, and that I just can't handle all the changes all at once. I mean- duh. I know this. I just forgot. 

So, I sorta compromised. I decided that taking care of my body is fundamental. I can be of so much more use if I am healthy and energetic! So, I cut down my FHE plan to an exercise plan and a meal plan. And these plans are not elaborate by any means. They are easy. They are easy changes, but definitely progressive in nature, and they will do us good if/when we stick to them. We're doing simple exercises three times a week, and taking out a lot of junk food. That's it. No crazy diets. No strenuous exercise expectations. Something we can do. I'm just focusing on the actual action of the change at this point- the habit of persistence.

Like Emerson said, 

“That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not that the nature of the thing has changed but that our power to do has increased.”

And when we have made these things habits, we will focus more on how this family will help the poor and elderly. Then we will focus on saving money. Or, maybe the other way around. I don't know. 

Side note; I'm not saying this means I won't help the less-fortunate while I'm focusing on physical health. I can and I will when I can. It's just not going to be a primary focus at this time. 

Because, one at a time is what I was advised. By God. 

This means that I have to be okay with slower progression in other areas. You know? That's the hardest thing about it. While I'm getting better at putting good stuff in my body, my house will still be disorganized. And I just have to be okay with that. I believe that the better I do, the better I'll do. By improving one area, other areas will follow suit. And I gotta trust the process, trust my God, and be patient and faithful. 

Here's hopin'. 

A Flippin' Miraculous Transformation

The other day, I found a poem I wrote in 2011. I had no recollection of writing the poem. I read it and my jaw dropped, for many reasons. One, it's really weird that I remember nothing of it. Second, I have almost forgotten what it's like to be in that place. Third, it was a blaring indicator of my progress; the miracle of me.

I share now the poem with you:

Lucky Her

"She killed herself," she whispered
Of her friend who died last night.
Then with frosted lenses, she said, "no,
"Depression killed her.
"She died from depression."
When I should have been sad for her,
I was jealous of her friend
Because I have to wake tomorrow
And go to work
Carrying my sins from place to place
Sleepless
Senseless
But that girl who died last night-
She's free.
She'll never choose wrong again.

8.10.11

Three years ago. That came out of my brain and heart and soul three years ago.

I beat myself up frequently for taking so long to "recover." It's so difficult for me to see day-to-day progress. But finding this reminded me of something I'd almost forgotten: the imprisoning darkness and despair of sin-bred hopelessness. I'd almost forgotten, but I remember now. I felt this way frequently. I'd be better off dead. My kids deserved a righteous mother. I'm a disgrace to my family. I'm a burden to the world. Hopeless.

I was blind to hope.

I want to go back to myself then and give me a hug and say, "don't you worry! You matter. Jesus will rescue you. There is hope in abundance all around you! Accept the hope. Forgive yourself. Accept yourself. I love you."

Three years ago, I was so excited to make it to 30 days of abstinence. In 2011, I think I accomplished that twice. Maybe once. It's a different world now.

I do think, still, that my progress has been slow. Many addicts in recovery have reached their abstinence and recovery goals by this point, by a long shot. But, I can't deny the progress. I am surrounded by light and hope! I am surrounded by grace and mercy! And I see that and know that, every day, now. I can't remember the last time I really wanted to escape addiction by escaping life.

The Addiction Recovery Program is a miracle. Using it, Jesus has made me a miracle. Using it, I have come to know my Savior better, and His astonishing, dumbfounding, propelling love for me. For years, I was trying so hard to recover on my own because it never really occurred to me that I couldn't recover on my own. And then I found this program, where Step 1 is, basically, "I can't recover on my own." The program gave me the tools I needed to understand addiction, understand the Atonement, understand grace, and understand myself. The weekly meetings are a constant feed of hope and encouragement. Yeah, sure, it's been a long time and I still slip! I used to believe that my slow progress meant I'm this horrible person who just can't get it right, but do you know what it really means? It really means that Jesus wants me to recover. Jesus wants to heal me. Chance after chance after chance, He gives me. Forever. All the while, He's there, leading and guiding and whispering beautiful truths and comforts, and slowly I let His words sink in and allow myself to believe them. "I love you. You are worthy of recovery. You matter. You are important. I want you with me. You are not your addiction. I'm here. I came to free you. Please, Stephanie, let me free you."

I may not have come a long way since yesterday, and I may be taking longer than your regular addict to break free, but, dang, look at that poem from 2011, and look at me now. Leaps and bounds. That was a lifetime ago. I don't subscribe to that philosophy anymore, the philosophy of hopelessness. I know better, now. I'm different. Jesus has changed my character. This, He has done for me:

"The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of people, and then they take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature." (President Ezra Taft Benson)

He has changed my very nature, my friends, and I know He will continue to do so as I allow Him to. I am so changed that I cannot fathom ever again believing that I do not have access to hope, forgiveness, grace and mercy. I know better because He has taught me personally.

My Brother, my Savior, my Jesus has fetched me out of the darkness and He is nursing me back to health. My eyes are still adjusting to the light, and so He gives it to me bit my bit. He has snatched me out of the dark forests of fear where wolves hunt and devour. I was His lost sheep that strayed from the 99, and He came after me. I think I am finally tired of running from Him. I think I am finally willing and ready to follow Him back to the fold. Every step. No matter how long it takes. No matter how rocky the path. I know that I can do all things through Him who gives me strength. I know that He is always here for me, with me, pleading for me and with me, weeping for me and with me, always always in my reach.

My new focus for recovery is simply trusting Him. It is no longer abstinence. Abstinence will be a natural reward of trusting my Redeemer.

How I love Him! The very thought of His blessed name fills my heart up with glorious sweetness and gratitude. I am His, and so I rest, and hope, in Him.