The Gift of Rock Bottom
The other night I was on my way home from a 6th grade band concert. It was much improved since the last time I was there last Fall. Honestly, I was dreading the sound of the clarinet, but to my surprise, there wasn’t a single moment I wanted to plug my ears.
Anyway… I like to listen to podcasts while I’m driving so I can feel smarter after the trip. Something about having headphones in my ears listening to Dave Ramsey or Michael Hyatt makes me look and feel smarter.
Ramsey was interviewing Jon Acuff about his new book Start. I was strolling right along the highway when I heard the words that caused me to back track and listen again:
Sometimes you have to introduce rock bottom to someone as a gift.
You can read it again a few more times. It took me a minute to soak it up, too.
Many times we look at rock bottom as a tragedy. Your addicted husband has lost his job, friends, and dignity because of pornography. Your sister is living in a weekly motel room while you raise your nephew because of heroin. Your marriage is crumbling as your wife packs her bags and takes the kids because you’re married to your job.
What if we looked at rock bottom as a blessing?
In 2009, I was at rock bottom. I sat across from a friend and said the words, “I’m tired. I just wanna die.” She didn’t try to rescue me by feeding my struggles, hiding the fact that I was at the bottom, or patting me on the back and telling me things would be okay.
No, she let me hit rock bottom. Then she picked me up and carried me to a place of refuge. I wouldn’t have sought true freedom that day if I hadn’t hit the bottom. Others had to let me hit the complete bottom before they could help me climb back up.
I needed to be offered the gift of rock bottom first.
That day was one of the worst and best of my life. It was the end of something horrible that led to the beginning of something amazing.
Your beginning is here, too. Today. Right Now. This moment. (Tweet that)
It’s a gift that your husband is losing his job and dignity. He’s at the bottom and it’s time to look up. That dirty motel room is a gift to your sister, because she’s at the bottom and tomorrow could be the new beginning. That suitcase setting next to the door your wife has packed is a gift to you. It’s a call that the bottom has arrive and it’s time to climb back up.
Rock bottom was a gift to me. Let it be a gift to you.
About Sundi Jo
I'm a speaker and author. My new book, Dear Dad, is a memoir of gritty redemption, offering hope to the broken. I love flip flops, Dolly Parton, and often dream of being a "Chopped" chef. Find me on Twitter (@sundijo).