Rescue (Pentecost - Day 9)

Yummy

(Based on 2 Corinthians 1:1-11)

Im in the forty-first hour of not smoking. I have been craving cigarettes so bad that the only things I can possibly think of eating are high-sugar, high-salt foods. They're the only things that come close to a cigarette. I can't stop obsessing and craving, and I don't know how long it will take for these cravings and obsessions to be removed. 

Which brings me to an interesting point.

Just where exactly do the obsessions go? How do they go? How long does it take?

The reason we quit stuff is because there was something there in the first place that just wasn't right. right? Otherwise, why would there ever be a need to quit anything. Does anybody ever quit school because their grades are just too good? Or, does anybody ever quit going to church because the pastor's on a hot streak? Does anybody quit their job over a raise?

No.

We quit stuff because there is something at the center of our core that says . . . this is not right for you . . .this is hurting you . . . there's more out there than this.

A few weeks ago, I went through three days of uncontrollable mental obsession about porn. I could not get the thoughts out of my head. They just kept coming, flying at me every moment, and I was helpless. The only thing I could do was . . . not look at porn.  

And that's where I am right now. The only thing I have power to do is . . . not smoke a cigarette. I can't stop the thoughts, or stop the obsessing, or stop the craving. Something else is going to have to step in for that work. In a way, this is a test. 

If quitting stuff is simply about not physically doing that thing anymore, but having to deal with the emotional and mental obsessions for the rest of my life, there is no point in quitting. If quitting cigarettes, or porn, or drinking, or anger, or lust, or envy, or laziness, or eating fast food . . . is simply about removing myself from the temptation . . . I might as well light up, look up, drink up, scream up, sex up, sleep up, and size up. Or, "bop til' ya' drop," as my sponsor says. 

In the first chapter of 2 Corinthians, Paul talks about how something crazy happened in Asia province where he almost died. He didn't think he was going to make it, he was a goner for sure. We aren't told what happened, but it sounds pretty intense. 

He tells us that he was rescued. Rescued. 

To be rescued is to imply that more than one person is involved. To be rescued means that the person in trouble has run out of options, run out of energy, run out of breath, run out of power.

When quitting stuff is about removing myself from the temptation, or just staying away from certain people or things that "trigger" my temptation, I am stating to the world, "I've got it beat!" Sure, it may seem that I am kicking another habit, but in reality I am inching closer and closer to falling right back in. When I avoid temptation like the plague, I am actually trying to rescue myself. If I only stay away from this place . . . this person . . . this event.

To be rescued implies that I am powerless and that my heart and mind need complete restoration. I need CPR. I need dry land. I need breath. I need power. I have given up. I've heard that one of the dangers of trying to rescue drowning people is, when the lifeguard swims out to the person, they are still aware of their situation. 

They panic, and their arms flail back and forth, they scream, and their instincts are to keep fighting. Sometimes, their instincts don't turn off and they put the rescuer in danger of drowning. 

It's frightening to throw our hands down, stop kicking and screaming, and get quiet, knowing that we've run out of options. It's frightening to know that we don't have the power to quit something or to stay quit. We have to be rescued, and we have to let ourselves be rescued. I need more than a simple removal of things. I need a complete change of heart and the removal of whatever it was inside that drove me to smoke that first cigarette nearly fifteen years ago. That's what I need removed. The cigarette is purely a symptom of that fear of not feeling accepted. That's really what I'm quitting, and that's really what's going to be removed should I keep going. I'm either going to continue being afraid of not being accepted and smoke a cigarette eventually, or I'm going to trust that my Higher Power accepts me just as I am and never smoke again. 

Hopefully, today will be a little easier than yesterday. Hopefully, I can . . . just . . . not . . . smoke . . . until the powerful craving and obsession are removed by a Power much bigger and badder than myself. 

Today's Action: What's one thing in life that hurts worse and worse the longer it's held? Am I willing to experience the pain, craziness, obsession, and insanity of letting it go? Do I believe that since I created the mess I'm in, I can't pull myself out of it?