I help drug addicts get clean…but they often relapse. Here’s what it’s teaching me about God’s grace

Early on in my medical career, I worked at a detox centre, where people addicted to drugs and alcohol went to get clean.

Most left before they were sober but, for those that stayed, we tried to get them on the road to recovery. The easy part was managing their withdrawal symptoms. Hangovers, tremors, nausea, sweating - dopesick in their lingo - are all treatable with anti-nauseants, anti-inflammatories and mild sedatives. It’s the next bit that’s far trickier. Without drugs and alcohol, all their mental health issues surge to the surface.  

Nearly everyone who abuses substances has severe psychiatric issues. In fact, most use drink or drugs just to feel normal, to escape the trauma they’ve suffered. Often they struggle with anxiety and PTSD. Many are depressed; some are bipolar. We even see the occasional schizophrenic. As they sober up, they become more, not less, psychotic. Turns out crystal meth is a half-decent antipsychotic medication, keeping intrusive voices at bay.  

Sadly, my patients don’t stand a chance at staying sober as long as their psychiatric issues remain uncontrolled. Living with severe anxiety, psychosis, guilt and depression is simply not sustainable; self-medicating is a survival mechanism. Unfortunately, most addicts don’t realise their mental health troubles are often treatable, and they leave before finding any meaningful relief.  

After I relapse into sin, God treats me with limitless mercy and grace 

Working there wasn’t easy. It was as if the mental conditions I encountered were contagious; the heaviness my patients carried weighed on me, too. Most of the staff reported a “negative energy” that permeated the facility. How many evil spirits came into my clinic room, piggybacked by troubled souls? 

Sandra’s story 

Sandra (not her real name) was referred to me by a social worker who cared for victims of abuse and the sex trade. Her psychiatric situation was more complex than any I’d seen. It took months to get her symptoms under control, using nearly a dozen medications. Slowly, her flashbacks, panic attacks, depression and insomnia became more manageable.  

Her physical health was just as bad. She contracted hepatitis C from injecting drugs with dirty needles; consequently, her liver was full of scar tissue. She had diabetes and chronic pain. Just staying healthy was a full-time job.     

Sandra had the worst life ever. She was forced into the sex trade at aged eleven. Her pimp injected her with drugs daily until he was murdered in front of her. She’d been beaten many times and beaten others also. One of eight kids, she was the only one still alive; all of her brothers and sisters died by murder, drug overdose or suicide. She buried both of her parents before she turned 30. Once, Sandra managed to stay sober for 17 months, but when her son was murdered, she relapsed hard.  

Second chances 

Early on in my career, I would get frustrated at the relapse rate of my patients. Some returned to detox remorseful and full of guilt, while others blamed the system or their life situation. All were in bad shape after using again, possessing minimal self-esteem, dripping with attitude, quite often brain-damaged and lacking insight into the reasons for their condition.  

None deserved another chance. However, when it comes to sin, none of us are any better. Just like a drug addict who comes crawling back to detox, believers regularly come crawling back to Jesus after slipping back into sin. We’re all similarly hurting, ashamed and powerless to help ourselves. We’re hungover and withdrawing from selfishness, often lacking insight into how we messed up again. We get second chances, third chances, 20th chances…and still Jesus welcomes us back. Every time, no matter what.  

Consequently, when I look at my struggling patients, I see shades of myself. If I had been born into their situation, it could very well be me sitting in the other chair. After I relapse into sin, God treats me with limitless mercy and grace, so I try to treat my patients the same way. “Hi there, glad to have you back. I think you’re gonna do great this time!”  

Spiritual battles wage unseen above our heads as I explain how we’re going to get them on their feet again, and, for a split second, the kingdom of God comes to that clinic room.  

The extra mile 

Sandra showed up a couple times per year, pale and sweaty, withdrawing like crazy. We’d clean her up, get her stable on medications again and she’d turn back into her regular self. Always laughing, but, below the surface, always suffering. No matter how many times she came back, we did whatever we could to get her back on track. Sometimes that meant going the extra mile.  

After sobering up for the third time that year, Sandra showed me her ear. “I got in a fight and this chick ripped out my earring. Do you think you could fix it?” I borrowed some supplies from the hospital and, after numbing her ear, cut away the skin that had healed abnormally and sutured the edges together.  

As I worked, Sandra said: “You’re the only doctor I’ve met that has ever cared about me.” I believed it. Her demographic tends to get treated poorly. They rarely get the care they need, perhaps because their needs are so great. Personality disorders, anxiety, mistrust of authority, and frequent intoxication don’t help matters. “Sandra,” I replied: “I don’t know why, but you have a special place in our hearts. We can’t fix all your problems, but we’ll do our best with what we can.” I wrote her prescription, and she left the next day. 

Still Jesus welcomes us back. Every time, no matter what 

Christ does so much for us. The least we can do is pay it forward to others in need, which is exactly what he wants us to do. “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me… Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:35-40). 

Most of the time, this is a thankless job. But occasionally, the light of Christ shines through us. One day I found a letter waiting for me: 

Soon afterwards, Sandra moved away to attend a rehab program closer to her extended family – or what was left of it.  

We all have opportunities to love those who are unlovable. They might be drug addicts, estranged family members, grumpy customers, ex-partners or the mentally ill. It’s not easy, but a little kindness (and a healthy dose of tough love) goes a long way to bringing the kingdom of God into a suffering world.  

Recovery is possible, from substance abuse and from sin, but it takes a lot of grace and a lot of attempts. Nobody is above falling into addiction or back into old habits, and yet nobody is so lost that Christ can’t save them.  

He’s always up for trying again, and so should we.