It is well with my soul.

For all the sharing I do about addiction, you think I’d be more accepting about the story God has given me.

But I am not.

It is well with my soul.

For all the talking I do about alcoholism and drug abuse, you think I’d be resigned to my life taking so many unexpected turns in relationship to them.

But I am not.

It is well with my soul.

Writing about our marriage struggles and the addiction that almost ruined everything, it would seem like I have made peace with it, with the struggle, with the journey.

I have not.

It is well with my soul.

The more time I have to reflect on how we got here, what lead to the breakdown, what pointed Chris to alcohol and avoidance, what set me up for a relationship with so many warning signs, the more I know this story was not on accident. The more I understand I was prepared for this fight well before I even laid eyes on Chris Graham. The more I know our stories were meant to crash into each other, were made for convergence.

It is well with my soul.

I wrestle with this realization often. Sometimes it makes me mad I was given this challenge, this mountain to climb. Other times, I’m grateful God gave me what I needed, when I needed it, and that His provision has sustained me for every single moment.

It is well with my soul.

I don’t have enough time or words or space on the internet to begin to explain the bits and pieces God has used to bring Chris and I this far. Searching for the beginning and the middle and the place we’re at right now feels overwhelming in both good and not-so-good ways.

I don’t believe God wishes suffering on us, but I do believe He can use all our suffering for His good.

I don’t believe God brought me to ruin for His pleasure, but I do believe He can show me the mercy in it all falling down.

It is well with my soul.

Does time bring more peace to the painful parts of our stories? I can see the beauty and healing in the last few years of my life, but would I do it all over again if I had the choice?

I don’t know yet. I need more time.

It is well with my soul.

Sometimes I’m thankful for the mess, because it brought beauty.
Sometimes I’m angry about the destruction, because it’s still tender and healing.

It is well with my soul.

One moment, I can be full of gratitude for the correction and loving attention my God gave me. The very next moment, I can be annoyed and questioning: Really, that was how it had to happen? You couldn’t have done it differently?

It is well with my soul.

When I talk or write about addiction, it often gets lost that this isn’t what I would have chosen. Yes, I’ve always loved writing. Yes, I’ve been telling stories and crafting prose for decades, both on the internet and off, but this is not the way I would have wanted people to know me, find me, or be drawn to me.

I would have picked a different story to tell you.

It is well with my soul.

I can find gratefulness and be unappreciative all at the same time.

My attitude isn’t unique or special. We humans often want other people’s stories, other people’s lives, other people’s outcomes. The grass is always greener.

It is well with my soul.

I don’t need your reminders about how gracious our God is. I don’t need your comments about how full of love and kindness He is.

I know it.
I see it.
I live it.

But I also need to tell you, I’m sometimes grumpy about my lot, my journey, my reality. I’m not telling you because I think you’re jealous, but because the internet always makes things seem shinier and prettier than they are.

My identity is not solely someone-married-to-an-alcoholic like it’s the only story I have or the only thorn. Also, I sometimes get mad at God for giving me this platform then asking me to write about such hard, ugly parts of myself and my marriage.

It is well with my soul.

I still wrestle with God–still question His plan–when I’m pushed to share what He’s teaching me, what He’s building in me, and what’s He’s ruining. Will I ever feel completely comfortable in this path He’s laid out for me?

It is well with my soul.

Sometimes it’s a praise.
Sometimes it’s a plea.

It is well with my soul when it feels hard, and it is well with my soul when it feels joyful. If I trust my God to keep His promises, I have to obediently walk in the way He’s leading me even if it feels scary or dangerous. Even when it doesn’t match up with my plans.

It is well with my soul.

There will always be a part of me that wishes I could never again write about addiction or alcohol or drug abuse or betrayal on the internet. There will always be a part of me that fights this purpose He’s given me. There will always be a part that wants this to all go away.

I know ignoring God, ignoring His prompts, ignoring His leading will never end well for me. So I write out of obedience. So I share out of trust that He’s going to take my weak words and actions and turn them to power and beauty for Him.

But I need you to know I don’t always do this willingly.
Maybe one day?

It is well with my soul even when I doubt.

It is well with my soul even when I forget what He’s done.

It is well with my soul even when it feels scary.

It is well with my soul even though I can’t see very far ahead.

It is well with my soul even if this isn’t the attention I want.

It is well with my soul even when I wish it were different.

It is well with my soul even if.

It is well with my soul.

It is well with my soul.