There was never enough

In the last months of her life, our ancient Labrador, Madison, lost weight in spite of our best efforts to keep her well nourished. In her prime she weighed over 90 pounds and we struggled to keep her weight down but in her last days her weight dropped down to under 70 pounds. Even that number was inflated because of the presence of some very large fatty tumors that developed in her later years. Her true weight was likely less than 60 pounds. As she aged, she simply lost the enzymes needed to efficiently digest food so more and more nutrition simply passed through. She was, literally, starving away while being as much food as she could consume. We simply could not feed her enough to fill her up.

That is how I was before I began this journey of recovery and discovery. Not from a physical standpoint, of course, but from an emotional and spiritual perspective, I simply could get be filled up. For many years I smoked a pipe. My collection began with two cheap pipes from a discount rack in a tobacco shop but by the time I finally quit, my collection had grown to over 70 pipes. There is no conceivable way I could ever use that many pipes but right up the time I stopped, I routinely shopped for pipes. I was searching for the perfect pipe, one with the bowl that was perfectly smooth and the stem had just the right bend. The size of the pipe had to be big enough for me to tamp it easily with a callused and scarred finger but not so big that it was too heavy to smoke comfortably. I was searching for a pipe that would make me happy.

And so it was with just about everything that caught my fancy. Clothes, fly rods, guns, reloading equipment, fly tying material, books and the list went on and on. I relentlessly chased material possessions thinking that each new possession would be that one thing that would make me happy. So I consumed and acquired relentlessly but no matter how much I had, I was still hungry. There was never enough.

My spiritual malaise damaged my relationship with people, the people whom I valued the most. If only my children did certain things in a certain way not only would they be happy but I would be too. The same was true of my wife, my mother, my sister and with every other human. If only they could understand what I needed and give it to me I would be happy and they would be happy too. But no one person could ever do enough to make me happy. How can one human ever give another that which creates happiness because that thing can never be given but only accepted.

Now we consider God. I could never be so bold or honest to truly admit that I wanted to Him to give me what I wanted. I determined to just take care of things myself. I lost the ability to talk with God, to pray simply as He asks of us. All I could do was to recite the prayers of our faith but the prayers were of no value. If there is no honesty behind words spoken to God, the words do not have enough volume for God to hear them and respond. I could not pray enough because I was so focused on what I wanted that he could not fill me with what I needed.

Finally one freezing cold November day it became clear to me that I was at risk of losing everything I held dear to me. Many talk of hitting bottom. To this day I don’t feel like I hit bottom as much as I found myself in an out of control boat headed directly toward falls and rapids so immense that passage over and the through them was not survivable. The roar of the falling water finally grew so loud I could no longer pretend disaster was not before me.

In the days and weeks to come I will talk of how the stream of my life now flow toward the still waters of the 23rd Psalm. The lethal rapids have been tamed and I know now I swim in the waters of God’s immense love. In the days and weeks to come, I will write about Cutthroat’s new stream, one that is filled with refreshing clear waters spoke of by our ancestors in faith and spirit.
Peace be with you.