Writing
is therapeutic for me. It’s a healthy escape from reality, if there is such a
thing. Over the past several months I have been working on something a little
different than anything I’ve ever written. I’ve been writing my testimony for
Celebrate Recovery.
One
of the 12 steps in this Christ-Centered recovery program involves writing out
an inventory of my life. And it’s definitely a healing thing to write out one’s
life and look at it all. For someone like me who lived in denial for so long,
to start writing about my life with no façade in the way started to bring out
things. As I wrote and read what I wrote I began to see connections and
patterns of self-destructive behavior and their origins. I was supposed to do
this inventory when I did the 12 steps for the first time a few years ago but
didn’t fully get it. Only now as I’m writing my testimony is it all working for
me. It really is like putting together a puzzle and suddenly seeing the big picture
of my life. I’m seeing not only what I’ve done in my life, but what God has
done.
Before
I was a writer I still made up stories. Then there came a time in my life when
I started to avoid the real world and live more in my made-up worlds. I created
worlds with my toy cars and spaceships. Back then toy spaceships weren’t sold
in stores. I used hairbrushes, bottle caps, and other items that looked right.
One might think that a robust imagination was healthy, but not how I used it.
Not only did I make up stories, I convinced myself that I was an alien from
another planet. Instead of trying to get along in the real world, I watched the
skies and waited for my people to come and take me home. Living outside of the real
world carried over into my adult life. It was dormant for years until crisis took
the forefront of everything and I fell right back into denial of reality.
Saved
to my laptop right now is every word of this entry so far. (I hit the save icon
often, sometimes with every sip of coffee.) But there are also folders of
fiction stories, two of which are almost novel-length. They are created out of
my imagination. Also saved is the testimony I’ve been working on for months. I
rarely plan and outline writing the way I did with this. And since I called it completed
two months ago, I have gone back and revised and polished it. This Friday I am
reading it aloud at the Celebrate Recovery meeting.
I
don’t know how I could have written this testimony without practicing some vulnerability
here on my blog. Some weeks I get somewhat personal. My testimony does too.
But that
openness is a small thing compared to the healing I’ve experienced in taking
the time to write my testimony out and see the pieces put together. I have shared a bit about how four years ago
I was in a bad way. I was entrenched in self-destructive behavior, living in
denial and spiritually dead. I was just walking around refusing help. Jesus
could have come up and offered to help raise me up and I would have told him
no. I would have said that I wasn’t deserving of any help and besides, there
would be an awful stench if my problems were exposed to the world. But somehow
(people must have been praying for me) it happened anyway. The stone was rolled
away.
I didn’t realize
most of this until very recently when I started writing it all out. I think I
might have been aware somehow of how blessed I was, but there are some
astounding things I finally grasped. I will share it Friday night and put into
my blog too someday.
I don’t
like ending my blog posts with an entreaty like a homework request. But there are
a few things I want to mention.
First, anyone
can come and hear my testimony Friday night if they want to. I am thankful to so
many people for quietly believing in me and being with me before I started the healing.
I don’t know how else to thank them all.
My second item up for bid is just me saying what
works for me. Not just journaling or writing, even though anybody can do that too.
But there is so much brokenness out there and there is healing. If I learned anything
in my recovery it’s that I can’t do it alone. But it works. I’m getting better.
Thanks for letting
me share.
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