In treatment, our Monday night group session became known as “Letters with Troy”.  It was an hour-long session when we would share letters that we had written with the group.  These letters were to loved ones, to our addictions, or to ourselves.  I shared my own Letter one night, having been inspired by a book which suggested writing a letter to yourself from the most compassionate, loving person you know.

I wrote my letter from Jesus.  It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, showing myself such understanding and forgiveness, even on paper.  But when it was over I felt somehow that I deserved what I had written, and something deep inside felt suddenly more at rest.  I would encourage you to do this exercise for yourself.  Even if you don’t think you deserve it.  Especially if you don’t think you deserve it.  Here is what I wrote.

Dear Adele,

I created you with black hair and a fighting spirit, beautifully and wonderfully made, exactly as the Father and I wanted you to be.  We have watched you struggle against yourself, and the world try to tame you, often with shame and humiliation.  But you never let yourself be tamed, and we didn’t want you to be.  Your little body and big spirit stood up to formidable opponents and you never backed down.  The world has enough people who cower and surrender.  We didn’t create you to be one of those people and we are proud that you never gave in.

We knew you were dealt a tough genetic hand, and that probably environmental factors would lay those cards on the table before you.  We watched you endure intense anxiety, an unspeakable and private hell, from the age of seven.  At twenty, you were incorrectly diagnosed with clinical depression, and you tirelessly looked for causes, as diverse as food intolerances and leaky gut.  We knew why you were binge eating and binge drinking, calling your parents for every problem.  You had the wrong diagnosis, and difficult interpersonal relationships.  You spent every second of every day trying to survive yourself, and you took your comforts where you could.

When your baby was born, you showed up.  You did everything you needed to do and more, as we knew you would.  She didn’t just happen to you.  We sent her to you because she needed to be here, needed to arrive early, and she needed a warrior mother to strengthen and sustain her so she could grow up and do what we sent her to earth to do.  We are proud of you.

What has happened in the last few months is not who you are, and we know that.  Your brain was damaged and addicted and made you do things you otherwise never would.  We know the values you hold, your strong sense of morality, your immensely loving heart.  We sent your drinking to you as a signal, because you have lived with your pain and anguish long enough.  We were with you through every bottle you drank, every valley, every shadow of death.  We accompanied you into your deepest darkness and your most violent storms.  We knew your fighting spirit would rise up, on Sunday July 24, and that you would begin to fight for yourself.  We love you infinitely, every minute, forever.  We are ALWAYS with you.

Love,

Jesus

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

Forever.