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I’m Don’t Care if I’m Wrong

I’m Don’t Care if I’m Wrong

And behold, one of the people of Israel came and brought a Midianite woman to his family, in the sight of Moses and in the sight of the whole congregation of the people of Israel, while they were weeping in the entrance of the tent of meeting. Numbers 25:6

In some of the worst behavior of my addiction, I diverted opioids for my own use, meaning that I inappropriately accessed my hospital’s pharmacy supply. One Sunday morning while sitting in church, miserable from opioid withdrawal, I got up, pretended to go to the bathroom, drove to the hospital, and found my boss to be working in the ER. He asked what I was doing there, and I made up some lie as I sat down at the computer next to him to manipulate the system. He even mentioned that there’d been some irregular prescribing patterns observed by the pharmacy. He was on to me. Still, that didn’t stop me. I sat right next to him and chatted nonchalantly, as I boldly entered an order for my pills. Looking back, it was absolutely absurd. I knew that he knew and yet, I didn’t stop. I just kept right on diverting. I was going to get what I wanted, and nothing – not even knowing he was watching – was going to stop me.

This is similar to what happened in today’s passage. In the story, the Israelites once again offended God when the men of Israel entangled themselves with Midianite women, which led to worshipping the Midianite god Baal. God commanded Moses to intervene, so Moses called an assembly to announce that those who’d worshipped Baal must be put to death. As the Israelites were congregating, one bold man, Zimri, brought home a Midianite woman, parading her right in front of the assembly before taking her home. He didn’t just do evil, he flaunted it. Zimri was going to have his woman, and nothing was going to stop him, not God nor the entire congregation of Israel. He was wrong and he simply didn’t care.

I don’t care if it’s wrong and I don’t care who knows it. I’m going my way. Looking back at the state of my mind is a little terrifying. It’s hard now to believe I could be so idiotic. Yet I did it. In my addiction, my thinking became so warped, and my behavior so controlled by the pills, that I would have done anything to get them. That’s the diseased thinking of addiction. As absurd as it was, I know that if I relapsed, I could go back there. What’s my protection then? Daily, if I desire to remain in recovery, I must point my mind at God, following his will, even in the little things. I don’t ever want to go back to boldly committing evil, so daily, I must boldly and purposefully follow God.

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