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Yep, It’s for “Normal People” Too

Recovery at IBC is for anybody. Maybe everybody. Because everybody is broken, broken IS normal. Most people associate “Recovery” with alcoholics, drug addicts or porn addicts, and well, they’re right. But there’s much more that binds and wounds us — perfectionism, pride, overeating — hurts and hang-ups that keep us from experiencing Christ’s best for our lives.

John and Bridget are normal too. Here are their stories.

John

 I thought my problem was booze. I drank too much and it wrecked my life.  What I’ve learned since I got sober 24 years ago is that my problem wasn’t alcohol. I drank to cope with an inability to live life on life’s terms.  I couldn’t seem to have a successful relationship, so I drank. I never seemed to make enough money, so I drank. I never seemed to achieve my goals, so I drank. I was never able to be the husband / father / son / partner / employee that I thought I was supposed to be. So I drank.

My problem wasn’t alcohol at all. My problem was I never could muster the “power” to get what I wanted in life, to have a satisfying sense of worth, to have any sense of balance or peace whatsoever.   

So I began working the steps, the 12 steps originally developed by a couple of drunks over 70 years ago who founded Alcoholics Anonymous.  Yes, it was about “not drinking,” but it was about more than that. It was about “how do I live a reasonably happy life as an imperfect human being in a world that demanded perfection?” “How do I live a genuinely Christ-centered existence in a world (and a soul) that was filled with evil,” and “how do I develop meaningful relationships with people that put so many expectations on me?”

That’s what Recovery at IBC is all about. It’s not just for the “social outcasts.”  It’s for people just like me — a guy that has a great marriage, four awesome kids, five precious grandkids, my own business and great friends. Sure, I still struggle to figure out how to apply Christian principles in a world that is sorely “anti-Christian,” how to live a reasonably peaceful existence in a world where financial demands are over the top, how to balance the demands of family, church, finances, friends, and feel like I’m making a difference.  Recovery has shown me how to do all of that.

I’m not saying my life is perfect.  I am saying that through Recovery I have gained some tools — practical and authentically Christ-centered tools — which have given me the best life I’ve ever known. And for that I am humbly grateful.

Bridget

Like most little girls, I craved my father’s approval and love.  Unfortunately, anger came much more easily to my father.  I learned the difference between a Phillips and a flathead by the age of five to avoid getting yelled at for not bringing the right one fast enough.  On the rides home from my soccer games, I would hear all the things I did wrong even when we won the game.  All of my A’s went unnoticed if there was even one B on my report card.  Though these things were painful, I think I would have been OK if I had just heard my father say, “I love you.”  But I never did.  By my teenage years, my overachieving, perfectionist ways had helped me be successful in school and sports, but inside I was a damaged little girl who felt unloved and unworthy of love.

In response to my father’s anger and desire to control, I myself became angry and an extreme control freak. I headed off to college where I would meet a man who I thought was the exact opposite of my father, but who turned out to be every bit as angry, if not more so, and emotionally abusive after we married.  After ten disastrous years, I found myself divorced, broken and looking for answers from God.  

In September of 2008, I began attending Recovery at IBC after hearing about it from a friend.  The last two and a half years have been some of the hardest, yet most rewarding years of my life as God has patiently, yet persistently, revealed my character defects and given me faithful friends to keep me honest about my successes and failures.

Because of Recovery, I have had the courage to tell my father I love him, not expecting a response.  But he gave me a very tender, long, teary-eyed hug. A few months later, my dad actually said, “You know your mom and I love you,” when hanging up the phone.

God is doing for me what I could not do for myself.

Recovery at IBC respects the confidentiality and anonymity of its participants. John and Bridget have chosen to forego their privacy to share their stories with you. For more information about Recovery at IBC, please visit recovery.irvingbible.org or contact John at