THE 24 HOUR GOD
Matching a loving God to the horrors of my past has proved impossible for me. Projecting a connection to an all-powerful God of the ever-foreshortening future seems implausible. In today, I see a nurturing God. Not an all purpose God, not a God who serves all. In my life, there is a God I trust today. Each morning, when I wake, it is a pleasant surprise to find a God. Not an expansive God, not a God to fit the continuum, but a nice neat God who fits right in this 24.
Lift your fingers to your scars and feel the gratitude.
I am going through so many changes
surrounding the cleaning out and getting rid of process.
The flat sided panic that I experience
while even attempting the smallest disposal seems impossible.
I would deny it if I didn’t have the repetition
of this experiment to prove it as fact.
I have now moved into the part of the illness
where I compulsively clean the things that I have emptied
in order to avoid facing the next step, the next box, the next mess.
This is a two part trap:
Part 1. If cleaning can absorb all the time
I will not be able to do anything else.
Part 2. If I can’t keep it clean enough
then I have an excuse to give up
and not empty the next space.
I am trying to keep moving without being mean to myself.
Because mean is worse than mess.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault