phone calls, debt collectors and a new tomorrow

At Recovery 101, we set out towards the profound exploration of all thing’s recovery, covering the terrain from addiction to personal loss, from mental health struggles to the pragmatic concerns of daily existence. Through the lens of my own experiences and writing, I try to provide readers with a nuanced understanding of both the processes involved and the myriad of emotions encountered along the way. At times, our discussions may be highlighted with definitive steps and discernible outcomes, while at others, such as what follows, we offer a real-time glimpse into the emotional rollercoaster that characterizes the recovery journey.

With almost nine years of sobriety under my belt, and God willing, poised to mark that milestone on April 10th, much of my journey has been devoted to nurturing Legacy Village, a treatment center born out of passion and commitment. It was a labor of love that consumed every waking moment—a relentless 24/7 adventure teeming with both triumphs and setbacks. However, this saga of perseverance and resilience came to an abrupt end with Legacy's closure in October 2023, leaving behind a wake of tangible and emotional devastation.

In the aftermath, I held on to a glimmer of hope that selling personal assets would give me with the means to right the ship and embark on a fresh start. Yet, as chaos descended like a dark cloud, I realized that optimism, while commendable, paled in comparison to the importance of accepting realities. No one had taught me about the rules of entrepreneurship; these were hard-earned lessons realized through trial and error, littered with numerous setbacks along the way. Through it all, perseverance, and a steadfast belief in pursuing what I knew as God's calling on my life, were my north star. 

Now, a new reality had dawned—one that featured the incessant ringing of the phone – and regularly at the ungodly hour of 8 a.m.  These calls were not calls with office updates or agenda items, but rather a relentless barrage of collection calls. Like countless others who have grappled with the loss of making a living, I found myself adrift in a sea of financial destitution. Change, the undeniable constant, enveloped me in its embrace, compelling me to confront the dangerous seas head-on.

In times of turmoil, the human tendency for procrastination often rears its ugly head.  Procrastination, in this manner however, is a futile attempt to hold off impending and unavoidable events. Eventually, as the veil of denial is lifted, we are confronted with the reality that acceptance, however reluctantly embraced, invariably presents the most options. As a person of faith, grappling with the complexity of it all—is an example as to the unpredictable nature of the human experience. We may outwardly profess our trust in God, but are we truly giving his control and, most importantly, do we have faith in His word? That’s the complexity, fighting our urge to make decisions with the necessary patience to hear His voice.

My current state of mind, and the incalculable ups and downs over the past months, can be traced directly back to a gradual loss of direction—a gradual erosion of enthusiasm, dedication, and purpose that permeated every part of my existence. The demise of Legacy Village served as a reminder that there is danger in conflating one's identity with professional pursuits, especially for a believer.  My identify is in Christ, and when that guiding principle was lost, so was I. Therefore, as the company crumbled, so too did my sense of self—a sobering revelation in hindsight, but one that eluded me in the early moments of despair.  In the time that has followed the collapse, I have continually struggled to regain my identify, and I have – to the degree possible in uncertainly – began to accept reality.  Now, I pray, that real change can begin.

Today, the walls of my home have become adorned with boxes—a visable reminder to the upheaval brought by this season of change.  The things that make a home - a home - are slowly being removed from the walls, shelves, and cabinets – leaving them bare.  As I walk around, it feels cold. I would hope one might be forgiven for feeling sad in these moments.  Moments where the memories of better times flood your soul, and the sense of loss washes over you.  We should never dismiss self-realization as an exercise in futility – good or bad - these moments and memories will be part of your eventual recovery. It is important not to linger there, however, and not to embrace defeatist sentiments.  If we don’t fight past these moments we would overlook the transformative power of faith—a faith that defines every ending with the promise of new beginnings.

Realigning oneself with God's purpose is not an admission of failure but rather an affirmation of resilience—a recognition that every season serves its purpose and, when its time has passed, must yield to the start of a new chapter. If it is God’s will that a new chapter begins, no amount of determination can hold onto the past.  Embracing this truth is no easy feat; indeed, there are days when the weight of despair threatens to consume us entirely. Yet, it is precisely in these moments of weakness that the hand of God is most palpably felt—a gentle reminder that even in our darkest hour, we are never truly alone.

As I reflect on the events of the past months, and the coldness of this morning’s walk through the house, along with a cascade of collection calls, I was almost paralyzed once more. The paralysis was broken by yet another phone call.  This time, a friendly one.  My friends opening line gave me the reality check most important for the moment, as he let me know that “God had placed me on his heart”.  Here, a person unaware of my internal thoughts, felt led to call me, and a poignant conversation followed.  I am still struck by the realization that God's intervention often takes the form of simple acts of kindness, and that when we feel as if His voice is muted, He uses others to speak to our hearts. These seemingly inconsequential gestures serve as a reminder of God's unwavering presence in our lives, even when His voice seems drowned out by the symphony of chaos.

And so, as I prepare to confront the uncertainties of the day ahead, I am inspired by the knowledge that even during adversity, God's hand is ever-present, guiding us through the darkest of nights into the promise of a new tomorrow. As the phone rings once more, I suppose I’ll embrace the uncertainty of the future and answer it.  Either way, friend, or foe, I am more secure in the knowledge my God is my compass. and just for today I can remember that every ending will bring with it, a new beginning.