"In life, in death, oh Lord abide with me."
Many recovery stories have God at their heart. Mine sort of does, by accident as much as anything.
I pretty much have an iphone playlist for every mood. One of these playlists is a set of well-known English church hymns. (One current favourite is Rick Wakeman's instrumental version of Morning Has Broken). Not so long ago, I listened to these hymns as a way of crying myself to sleep in a relatively peaceful way.
Over the months, these hymns have turned into a real source of strength, as they remind me very strongly of my childhood in Leicestershire. As an adult, I have struggled with a sense of homesickness for the English countryside. However, with a bit of hard thought and focus, I have managed to convert that sense of separation into a source of love and strength. I cherish every trip to England in a way that I didn't before, and try to turn every trip across the border into some sort of special treat
(Picture: Bradgate Park, Leicestershire - near to my cherished childhood home)
What I will say though, is that those old English hymns from my childhood have been there for me at my darkest moments. Whether or not there is a divine God: "Morning has broken" today, and will continue to break every day.