Addiction

The following story is fiction.

Dry

It started out as nothing, really. I was sitting down, about to watch the football game, when my mouth went dry. It wasn't the kind of dry you get when you are sick, or even when you are simply thirsty, but it was the dryness of a craving, of a desire.

I tried to push the thirst out of my mind and watch the television, but it kept returning, stronger each time. My whole body ached in the remembrance of drinking and literally begged me to take it back up. I had been doing so well, but soon I could think of nothing more than what it would be like to have just one more glass of beer.

The craving haunted me until I couldn't take it any longer. I knew better than to call one of my friends to go out with me because they would only try to talk me out of it. I put on my shoes and drove to the sports bar that I had tried so desperately to avoid recently.

I walked through the doors and looked around. As much as everything had stayed the same, the game was blaring on the television, a darts tournament was being fought under the dim lighting over in the corner, loud voices shouted at the game and at each other, and the music was just loud enough to be heard over the noisy din, everything was exactly the way I remembered it, and yet, something had changed. Though the bar was full of people, it seemed suddenly empty.

I didn't belong there and I knew it. I was about to turn around and go home when I heard my name called. Looking around in the hazy, smoke-filled light, I finally saw a familiar face beckoning to take the empty stool next to him at the bar. He had a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. I couldn't remember his name, but it didn't really matter. We weren't friends. He was just another one of those guys that spent his nights drinking at the bar. We had shared beers and laughs and more than a few sports games together. He was as trapped as I had been.

I sat down next to him.

"I haven't seen you in forever," he laughed a little too loudly, clapping me on the back. He didn't remember my name either.

"Good to see you too," I tried to smile, wishing that I had never left home.

"Let me get you a beer. It's on me."

"No, I really shouldn't..." My protest sounded weak, even in my ears.

"Nonsense. You look like you need a drink. Besides," he said, pointing at the television, "We're winning."

With that, he signaled the bartender and the beer was in front of me. I looked down at it and suddenly my craving was back full force. It was right there. I didn't even have to pay for it. It would only be one drink. Wouldn't it be good to just have one beer? I could always stop after having just one...

I gave in. The brown liquid felt so good as it went down my throat that I was sure my desire would fade away having been satisfied. It didn't. It grew and grew until my craving was like a monster within me, my body itching for more alcohol. I felt like I was being devoured from the inside, the only way that I could find relief was to feed my demon.

I finished my mug and then, after a moment's consideration, ordered another one. I had been good long enough, one single night wouldn't hurt me. I was responsible. I knew how to take care of myself.

Two beers became three, and then four, and then I lost count of how many I drank. My tongue felt heavy and I had trouble talking without slurring words together. Before I knew it, the bartender was asking me to leave the bar so that he could close it down.

"Hey, buddy, do you need me to call a cab?" he asked.

I pulled myself up as straight as I could manage and enunciated each of my words in what I thought was a quiet voice.

"No, I'll be fine. I've drank more than this before and managed okay. Thanks, though."

As I went out to my truck, I could tell that I wasn't walking in anything close to a straight line and so I focused all of my attention on putting one foot in front of the other. I made it to my truck without stumbling much more.

I felt sick, but it wasn't from the alcohol. I was disgusted with myself. I had done it again. I had gone for three sober months and I had just thrown it all away. Why did I always give in? How hard could it be to just remain sober? People do it all the time. How had I ever become such a prisoner?

Angry with myself, I peeled out of the parking lot and began driving home. Never again, I told myself. How many times had I said that? This was the last time, I swore. I couldn't let alcohol run my life anymore.

There is a traffic light about a mile from my house and it turned red just as I pulled up to it. I looked both ways and didn't see anyone coming, and so I decided to run the light. I gunned my engine and my truck shot forward into the road.

And smashed into a car speeding across the intersection.

I heard a grinding crunch as sparks shot up past my windshield.

The car spun around and hit the side of my truck before it bounced off and then flipped over on its side.

I slammed on my breaks, my tires screeched to a halt, but it was too late.

I swore.

Where did that car come from?

I had almost killed myself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I have been so stupid? I should never have gone to the bar. I should have stayed home. I was sure that the front end of my truck was torn apart. Only one headlight was shining into the darkness, lighting up the median on the far side of the intersection. It wasn't until I heard sirens wailing their way closer that I remembered the other vehicle.

I opened the door to my truck and looked back toward the car. A trail of broken glass and fragmented metal was lying in the road, leading back toward the car, which was tilted on its side. I started to walk to it when the first police car showed up.

A policeman shined a flashlight toward me. "Are you okay sir?"

Just as he was about to speak, my throat went suddenly dry, dryer than any craving could ever hope to accomplish. The paramedics were unzipping body bags.

__________________________________________________________

People can become addicted to anything: drugs, alcohol, sex, relationships, television, pornography, sports, myspace, food, and the list goes on. Some of those things shouldn't be experienced at all and some of those things can be good in moderation, but when they begin to rule us, it's time to reexamine our priorities.

Addiction is a powerful thing. It can start as something small, something innocent but then it begins to grow, feeding upon itself until it is in control of every decision, every action. We often don't realize that we are addicted until it is too late.

James 1:14-15 tells us how addiction works, "Each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death."

So how do we know if we are addicted to something? Well, there are several ways to check. Map out your time over a week and see what you spend the most time doing. Obviously there will be necessities like sleep, work, and school, but see if anything surprises you with how much time you spend doing it. If you feel like you might be addicted to something, like television, for instance, try going without it for a while. If you find you can't stay away, you might have to take a closer look at it. If you find yourself constantly thinking about something or talking about it, check your heart. Jesus told us in Luke 6:45 that "out of the overflow of your heart, the mouth speaks."

Why is addiction bad? The addiction makes the addict a slave to itself. Addiction causes shame and self-loathing, even as it encourages us to take on more. It is never satisfied until it consumes us. Paul talks about this in Romans 7:14-15, saying, "We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."

It's hard to deal with addiction. Addiction can make us fearful that others will found out. It can numb us to the point where we don't care what happens to us anymore. Even the Apostle Paul despaired in Romans 7:24, "What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?"

Very few of us will be able to get rid of an addiction on our own. It takes so much strength to break down a stronghold in our lives that it can be too much for one person to handle. James 5:16 says, "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed."

Going to someone else with our secret struggle can be terrifying. Thoughts fly through our heads: What will they think of me? What if they tell other people? What if they never speak to me again? It's important to go to someone that you can trust, someone that truly has our best interests at heart. When you tell someone and they want to help you, it will feel as if a great weight has lifted off your shoulders. Ask them if you can go to them if you are struggling and also ask them to keep you accountable, checking in on you from time to time.

Jesus is the ultimate friend we can go to in our time of need. He says in Matthew 11:28-30. " Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

God certainly has the power to release us instantly from an addiction and He sometimes does so. For others, however, it may take some time and it may be a struggle. I want to encourage you to battle through it, whatever it takes, because breathing the free air is beautiful and you won't ever want to go back.

If you truly want to be set free, press in to an intimate relationship with our Holy God. Through Christ Jesus we have victory over ever addiction and every sin. As you enter His presence, He will begin to purify your life, showing you the sin and stripping it away. He will begin to refine you and mold you into the child of destiny He created you to be. He will fill you with His love and it will forever change you.

True love knows no bounds. It gives absolute freedom to those in whom it lives. Absolute freedom does not mean the freedom to hate, steal, and kill; rather, it means the freedom to not. It means having the freedom to do what is right, for love cannot contradict itself. It is because of this love that Jesus went to the cross.