We have sinned—right along with our ancestors.
We’ve done what is wrong.
We’ve acted wickedly…
But God saved them from hostile powers;
redeemed them from the power of the enemy. Psalm 106:6, 10
The small, no-frills room is illuminated by a few mismatched lamps and a solitary 60-watt light bulb overhead. The walls are adorned with fraying inspirational posters: “One day at a time.” “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” “God grant me serenity.”
Welcome to Spirituality Hour, a gathering I facilitate once a month at a residential treatment center for women recovering from drug and alcohol addiction. The participants are as varied as the hodge-podge assortment of chairs they’re sitting in—old and young; black and white; educated and barely literate; wealthy and hardly scraping by.
The one thing they all have in common—and this is why I love Spirituality Hour so much—is that each woman has hit her own personal “bottom” and knows it. For that reason, all conversation in the room is bracingly honest. As one of them said to me on my first night, “Honey, we ain’t got time for no bull.” Sure enough, Spirituality Hour is a bull-free environment.
“I haven’t had a sober birthday since I was twelve,” says Carol (not her real name), a grandmother of three.
“I traded my mother’s wedding ring for a ten-bag bundle of heroin,” says Tanita, not yet twenty.
“I left my kids alone during a four-day bender,” says Eve, wiping her eyes. “When Child Protective Services took them away, I wanted to kill myself. But even more than I wanted to kill myself, I wanted another drink.”
These women wear their honesty like a life preserver. What each one has come to understand—usually by way of deep suffering—is that pretense, concealment, and denial have functioned as cement shoes, pulling them further into darkness. Truth-telling, as excruciating as it may feel, is the only way up and out of the sucking whirlpool.
The writer of Psalm 106 may or may not have been an alcoholic—who can say for sure? What we can say is that this psalmist knows something about the miracle of healing that takes place whenever the people of God tell the truth about themselves. Psalm 106 is a national confession of sin. It’s a historical trek through Israel’s many failings and God’s extraordinary patience and compassion.
We have sinned—right along with our ancestors.
We’ve done what is wrong.
We’ve acted wickedly…
But God saved them from hostile powers;
redeemed them from the power of the enemy. (Psalm 106:6, 10)
I get the feeling that this psalmist would fit right in at Spirituality Hour with Carol, Tanita, Eve, and the rest of us rag-tag hopefuls who are just trying our best to come clean with each other and with God. Hands down, it’s the most hopeful hour of my month. Why? Because, honey—we ain’t none of us got time for no bull.
Julie Pennington-Russell is a much-loved preacher, pastor, and mentor. She has pastored three Baptist churches, has mentored too-many-to-count young ministers, and lives in Atlanta, Georgia.