Supreme Gratitude
I just read a Grapevine article that reminisced about the chill wind that blows through the gaping holes in many of us. I know this feeling is often attributed to alcoholics and addicts nearing their bottoms, but I have to wonder if others feels it—the desperate aloneness, no ambitions, just day-to-day plodding through an empty, endless life.
Yes, I’ve been there. Most in my circle have. Sobriety and a relationship with a higher power bring many gifts—closing the gaping holes with love and hope is one of them.
I don’t ever want to forget the period that felt pointless and futile. I didn’t want to live, but I didn’t want to die because I mistakenly thought once I was gone, that was it. As emotionally bereft as I was, my ego said, what will the world do without me? I am worthless and I have nothing to offer, but surely someone will miss me!
God has a plan and I locked onto tiny threads of hope as only the desperate can. I don’t believe that my soul was ever completely bankrupt. There was a flicker of life, of desire, still there so that when I heard the words, “You don’t have to live like this anyone,” I felt relief for the first time in a long, long time. God never stopped believing in me. He always had faith in me. Once I indicated a tiny bit of my own faith, a mighty fire began to burn inside me. The chill wind was finally being warmed.
I am grateful for life—a spirit-filled life—today. I pray that others get to experience similar feelings. But there has to first be willingness to begin to surrender the past in order to be cleansed and prepared for the peace and contentment that will surely follow.
In the midst of trauma, I can allow my spiritual filter to not let negative, emotionally-charged situations get through to my center. In the hollowness of grief, I can simply be aware that God Is, and trust the process of taking one step after another. In the center of my being, I can feel my being-ness and know that love is my bedrock. I am never alone.



In July of 2009, I had an epiphany. For about a month prior, I was emotionally distraught, increasingly depressed and having serious thoughts of drinking again (after 18 years of sobriety).
I struggled to wrap my arms around what could possibly be wrong with me. I had all the trappings of a good life, one others would love to emulate--great job, dream house, traveling for a living, a life mate . . . the list goes on. 





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