Addicted to sin



When I was a trainee-Christian, the dying-stuff was a big part of the training.

God never did of course.  But Jesus did.  And willingly.  Because I was/am a sinner.  He died for me because of me.  I was taught dying is glorious.  Dying to God and for God is glorious – is a shortcut to “home” – to no-sin-and-all-God-for-all-eternity.  And the dying is necessary.  And it all made perfect sense.

Saints are revered.  Martyrs are remembered.  Jesus is worshipped.  Death is our gateway to heaven. Yet … it’s all so “academic”.



In real life …

I cut my finger and get a plaster … I make an appointment with the doctor when unwell.  And if I look like I’m dying … I ask everyone to pray for my good health-recovery AND scour medicine for my saviour.  We do all in our power to put-off dying.



And then look at Jesus … always healing the sick … both physically and mentally … a wonderful approach to good-health HERE and NOW in this MOMENT and NO DEATH  required.

My reality?

I choose living every time.  I see nothing glorious in the dying.  But nor do I fear death.

It is the pre-death bit … the imagined pain-pre-dying … my imagined-prolonged-and-messy-and-painful-pre-dying …  That’s what I worry about … that I go to the doctor about … that I find a plaster for …  It is the living (pre-dying) and not death that I think about.


I was present when my dad died.  Present when the doctor came to confirm the death.  When the undertakers came to remove the death.  When they carefully and respectfully bagged the death.  Carefully and respectfully lifted and manoeuvred the bagging.  Present when the bagging slipped – clacking the bagging (on the edge of dad’s chair) on the way to the floor.  I looked on not knowing what to feel.  As the undertakers profusely apologised I still felt nothing …

That wasn’t dad anymore – Dad had gone with the death.  All we had was an outer-shell now empty.  There wasn’t room for additional pain.  And this shell felt no pain so why should I (be offended on the shell’s behalf)?


When I was a young teenager I knew-of a young adult due to become rich.  The pot-of-gold-at-the-end-of-a legal-trust-rainbow “rich”.  A glorious new life devoid of any need to try very hard now.  An “upon your twenty-fifth birthday” gateway to a new life.   During his twenty-fourth year he went into hospital for a routine something and caught an unexpected-unplanned-hospital-bug.  And died soon after (still an in-patient) – his blood rejecting a medical-cure – so his body rejecting his own living.  I felt no pain at his dying.  He was a “known-of” rather than “intimately known”.


We have a young grandson currently fixated on “the-next-thing” … the next activity … the next tv programme … the next whose turn it is .. always the next-this and the next-that.  There is a visible preference to be wrapped not in this moment but the next.  Maybe he will learn to live-in-the-moment as he passes this phase.

But I have learned that being in control is not “being in control” – it is me controlling others who don’t want to be controlled.  I have learned control is not of this moment but always the next – always of others’ “next”.

And I have learned in my own decades that “living-in-the-moment” only happens without MY fear of MY now.  When I learn to set-aside MY “what ifs”.

When I stop trying to control others’ moments.

Find my own “I Am”.



I was taught to live in the moment – I was taught about God’s unconditional love –  I was taught to set aside worry and anger – to put down bias and bigotry – I was taught all that as well as the death stuff – taught I was a sinner saved by loadsa blood!  And then taught I would sin the rest of my life AND taught that “that’s okay”.  Taught I am a mere mortal sinning weakling unable to stop.  Doesn’t apply to all addictions though …

All those “socially unacceptable” addictions …. we aren’t applauded for being “mere weaklings” when it comes to those.

So why sin –

Why is “sin” not taught as an addiction we can beat?



1 thought on “Addicted to sin

  1. Pingback: God in us. | Just me being curious

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