Putting Down the Rock

Last Tuesday I spent three hours crafting the perfect text to my sister, carefully wording it so she wouldn’t get defensive, trying to find just the right way to suggest she get help without her shutting me out. I rewrote it six times. By the time I sent it, my stomach was in knots and I couldn’t eat dinner. She never responded.

I’d been doing this for years. Researching treatment centers, forwarding articles about addiction, dropping hints about AA meetings, monitoring her social media for signs she was drinking again. I told myself I was showing love, being supportive, staying engaged. But really, I was struggling—endlessly trying to find the magic combination of words or actions that would make her want to get sober.

Accepting powerlessness over her drinking means accepting I cannot make her see what I see or want what I want for her. The struggling stops not because she changes, but because I stop exhausting myself trying to unlock something I don’t have the key to. She might keep drinking. And I might finally stop living in this constant state of anxious effort.

I will visualize placing the 'rock' of this problem into God's hands. I will remind myself: 'He can handle this; I don't have to.' I will trust the relief that comes from resigning as the general manager.