This chapter from, The Art of Unlearning, is on something that has been both brutal and beautiful in my life: unlearning the demand to always be comfortable, and learning the absolute necessity of afflictions. Please leave your comments; I’d love to know your thoughts. You all can help shape this book’s final draft!
Last night, a seminary student of mine asked my advice for three different couples she’s working with, all of whom are facing a sexual addiction. This morning, I read a friend’s book about a long descent into opioid and alcohol addiction and an agonizingly slow climb out of it. I’m in the middle of a long stretch of work (over two weeks without a day off) that I try to avoid but sometimes fall into, and my addiction of choice is sugar. When I’m overly stressed and tired, when adrenaline has coursed through me during a long engagement and I’m off the stage, my brain begs for that sugar rush.
We’re all messed up in different ways, but if there’s one thing I’m more addicted to than sugar (which Lisa is working on), it’s comfort. I crave comfort. I seek comfort. I hate the lack of comfort. I organize my life to try to maintain comfort, but God makes that impossible, because he loves me.
That last statement—that God makes unbroken comfort impossible because he loves me—is something I’ve had to learn. The thought that unbroken comfort is a sign of God’s blessing and favor is something I’ve had to unlearn.
Continue reading this blog on Substack, HERE.