“I know, Lord, that our lives are not our own. We are not able to plan our own course.”
Jeremiah 10:23
To whom it may concern;
to the lonely;
to those who feel that no one really cares; that no one is really “real” — that love is just an idea or a concept — and want to give up;
to those that need hope in life;
I’m with you.
I wholeheartedly empathize with you.
You have no idea how much I understand your heart.
My name is Cory Butler, and I’d like to give up.
I’ve learned though, there is no possible way to give up — even in death — I believe; there can be no relief.
Not without Jesus Christ.
This past year has been a journey of discovery and growth for me. It’s been excruciatingly painful, exciting, tiresome, successful, productive and mundane.
It has been the hardest year of my life. But also the best; and also the most miserable, and also — incredible.
In this blog, my goal is to encourage you. I will attempt to prove that love is an actual force and that faith is a true substance.
In the beginning of this, I was a selfish, mentally, sexually abusive drunk; addicted to cigarettes and dependent on THC to get through life. I was a diagnosed manic-depressive, bi-polar, angry, suicidal case and if I did not see God, the Creator; our almighty, merciful Lover — at least as much as I do — in all else I see, there would be nothing otherwise strong enough to keep me going.
It is 10:12 am, September 12th, almost 5 months since leaving my family behind to become who God has made me to be.
Now, I did not intend to leave them. None of us would have chosen this if we remained in the dark about God. And we were all surprised that it happened. But God had planned — from the beginning of time itself — to redeem my family and I in such an interesting way; and the story is still in the exact center of the redemption process.
I find myself privileged to be able to speak of the finished product, before it is revealed, even, to my own wife and children.
You see, I — as Celebrate Recovery would put it — am a recovering alcoholic/drug addict. For a while I thought I was a “recovered” drug addict, but as things play out, clarity comes more and more just as the days, themselves, inch on. Thirteen months ago, I had my last drink and called it. I was done. Not because I did not like it. Not because I didn’t want more, but because my drinking had led to chaos.
It was a slow fade into an ocean of terribleness.
I had my first drink when I was about 18; I realized I had started drinking when I was 38. I’d say it was about 3 months into the spin out, though, that brought about the first few realizations;
I had become my worst nightmare.
It was almost as if I woke up from a 20 year coma but, while I was out I didn’t sleep; I grew selfish. I yelled; I got angry; I got controlling. I smoked weed; I smoked cigarettes. I neglected my kids, demeaned my beautiful, loving bride, and I complained about absolutely everything.
I was obtuse, dumb, and lazy. I was untrustworthy and manipulative; and I was poor and unhappy.
My 5 daughters — along with my Bride of 15 years — were all afraid of me; and I was at a complete loss as to how it had all happened.
I turned around and saw a very, very long path of disgusting choices and none of it was — ever — what I wanted.
As the months went on I attempted to change things for the better. As a youth and younger, I had been raised in the Word. I read the Bible a lot over the years and gave myself fully to the Lord until I began being sneaky and indulging in sinful, “bad habits.” So when I gained — at least a little — awareness, I went back to the Word.
The Bible — I remembered — had all I needed to get out of this horrible reality that I found myself in and by December, I heard a word from God that changed the trajectory of everything.
I sat on my bed; still high from a THC gummy; praying to God about things and in jest, I ended the conversation with Him by laughing that I was going to have a cigarette: “unless that keeps me out of heaven,” I joked.
“Is it worth it?” I felt God interjected at a perfect, vulnerable moment.
I still went to smoke, but then, as I thought, I was vividly aware that; with each puff, I was saying “yea, it’s worth missing out on eternity for what I want, instead of assuring that I’ll spend it with You.”
I attempted to quit — almost immediately. A good three day stretch was an awful attempt and — when I slowly picked up on the habit again– it increased so much over the next three weeks and the desire to smoke became completely unbearable. I no longer wanted the next cigarette, but I needed it. For the last twenty years I smoked increasingly up to two packs of cigarettes a day; that December, I was up to almost three.
It was December 29th. I had two cigarettes left and my mind was in a hurricane state. The world was ending, time was running out, and I was doomed to hell. (This all was fueled by a fearful brain and a tormented heart full of bad choices.) I had verses going through my head that I knew meant something. So I started weighing them out;
Romans 6 says that if I am not a slave to Christ, then I am a slave to sin. In 2 Peter it says that “I am a slave to whatever masters me.”
Then I suddenly realized that I was NOT in control — but… neither was Jesus.
“This is bad!” I choked.
I sat smoking the cigarette. I had one left and I smoked it, too — real quickly. As I did, I decided I was done smoking. I wasn’t only finished with smoking, though; I was finished being out of control. I spoke to Jesus and told Him I would give the control to Him; that I gave up. I told Him that He needed to do it, because I could not.
That was the last cigarette I smoked — 9 months ago.
I loved cigarettes. I’d sit in the garage all day and night smoking them. The nicotine stained my fingers, my teeth, and even the corners of my phone; so when Jesus so graciously took over, I gave Him my love and attention. I gravitated, again, to reading the Word.
Marijuana was just eased out as I focused more and more on other things. I was just no longer interested in consuming THC; Jesus was freedom and knowledge, and I was beginning to like it.
Three days after the last time I got high — because of my completely insane actions — I was told I could not return home for a while.
The ex parte became active on May 3rd, five months ago.
This is my story. Keep reading; the details are — to me — divine proof that Jesus, indeed, took over my life the very moment I asked Him to. It has been a very wild ride since that day and the best is yet to come.
I hope it will inspire you.
Keep reading as I post more of this story; and know — even as I type — everything is getting wildly better. I will do my best to describe it as we go along.
Thanks for reading.
Did you know you can subscribe to this blog? If you’re an avid reader, submit an email address and you’ll receive a notification when a new post is published.
Don’t miss out!
Leave a Reply