Step 7

I dig.  The ground up here is rocky, and the soil is hard.  I have an old shovel with a splintery handle and a rusty spade, but I start anyway.  I know that once I break through the first layer, the going gets easier.  I jam the shovel down and I jump on it, and I pull up a spoonful of dirt.  Resistance has built up in this spot, but I'll break through it eventually.  All I have to do is keep digging and not stop, so I dig some more.  I strike a stone, but I dig around the rock enough that I can finally pry it out, add it to the pile, and keep going.

I'm sweaty and my hands are beginning to blister even through the calluses I've built up over the years of doing exactly this action in many different places.  I think this would be a great analogy for my life: a bunch of holes and a lot of piles of dirt.  I tell myself it's not my life; I'm digging for treasure.  X marks the spot an all that, only there are three X's here, so there must be a lot of treasure.  My back aches and I'm not even halfway, but that treasure at the end will make it all worth it.

This won't be like last time.

I dig some more.  The hole is up to my waist, and the pile behind me is over my head.  I suddenly notice I've had a pair of yellow work gloves in my back pocket this whole time.  I put them on, and the pain is diminished.  Good, I can keep going.

I dig some more.  Weird, the shovel isn't as old as I thought it was.  I've passed through a layer of clay, and the dirt is coming out like butter.  I keep digging.  It's easy now, almost fun now that the resistance is gone.  I could do this all day.  Then I look up, and the sun is setting!  I have been doing this all day!  Might as well continue.

I dig some more.  I feel renewed.  I have a second wind.  The deeper I go, the more on top I feel, until—I hit something hard with a jolt that travels all the way up to my shoulders.  It's a box!  I've found it!  I work some more to clear away enough black mud, then I haul the chest out of the hole.  The chest is surprisingly light, but I'm not worried.  What's awesome is that I've found the treasure!  I did it!  It's mine!  I feel so good that I don't even care what happens next!

There's a lock on the chest.  It seems that even now, even after all the work, I could still stop.  I could stop, but I'd have to explain away my sore, aching back, and the loss of an entire day.  For a moment,  I actually consider turning away.  Then I hit the lock with my shovel and it breaks, the chest flying open.

Inside is . . . paper.  Maybe it's a deed.  Maybe it's a bank note.  No, it reads, "Idiot.  You've done it again.  Good job."  It's not addressed to me, but it's my handwriting.

I've written that note countless times.  I must be getting better because the words are nicer than what I used to write.  Is that the kind of better I want?  At least I didn't curse myself this time.  No adjectives, no expletives.  Just, "Idiot."  That's better, right?  Or—and this scares me—is that worse?  Is that acceptance?  Am I beginning to accept what I should except?

That's not what I want.

I want the kind of better that's based on love.  I want the better that runs away, that sees the XXX and doesn't linger.  The kind of better that doesn't follow the crooked path in the first place.  I want the better that leaves me feeling right.

"'Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.  Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord will never count against him'" (Romans 4:7-8).

"If I rebuild what I destroyed, I prove that I am a lawbreaker" (Galatians 2:18).

I want the better that both promises good and delivers great.  "At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures.  We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another.  But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.  He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life" (Titus 3:3-7).

I want to be an heir.

I had been worried for some time that my struggle with pornography wasn't giving me the pain that my anger did, the fear-conquering pain that I suggested was necessary in Step 6, that I was missing the secret ingredient that enabled me to be entirely ready for God to remove that character defect.  I felt like I had it at one point, but that I missed the opportunity to use it.

I don't believe that anymore.  King David's lapses did not stop his relationship with God.  He kept on going, writing psalms and conquering enemies and paving the way for the temple.  Paul had some kind of big struggle he had to give to God every day, and he went one-on-legions with the Roman empire.  Now, that Rome is dust and Paul has moved on.

Waiting and worrying for me is really just procrastination.  A missed opportunity is still an opportunity.  I know I'm ready.  I can bring up the pain just by writing about digging.  God gave me that idea.  I just developed it.  I dug it out.  He gave me that so I could be ready for Step 7.  Now that I've identified what my struggles and defects are, I'm ready to "humbly ask God to remove my shortcomings."

Father God, it's one of those days.  Help me to get through it.  I am weak, Lord.  You are amazing.  You are mighty.  That's why together we'll get though this, one day at a time.  That's all it has to be.  Thank you.

If there's a secret to Steps 6 and 7, its this: it won't be just once.  That's not really a secret, and it's not even secret wisdom.  It's just Step 10.  I get to do it every day.

I'm not going to get into humility too much.  I'm a droplet in the mist that quickly vanishes.  Jesus knows every droplet in that mist, how and when each one is going to collide with others.  When I have a collision, Lord, please help me to bounce the right way.  I'm going to struggle and be tempted today.  I ask only for what you've promised already: a way out.  I have a great, understanding, and powerful support team of sponsor and accountability partners.  It only comes down to my decision to use them.  Decide me, Lord.

I'm a grateful believer in Jesus, the Christ.  I struggle with pornography and anger.  My name is Joel.