When Breaking Becomes Healing

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

It was a hot Sunday afternoon in July in Texas. I had just come in from watering the flowers and was making lunch when my husband walked into the kitchen. He stood at the island, pale, shaky, and empty.

I turned around and asked, “Are you okay?”

He looked at me, and for the first time in our marriage, I saw someone utterly broken. His voice trembled as he said, “No, I’m not okay. Babe, I need help. I need to go to detox.”

He told me how he had been suffering in silence, his alcohol and weed addictions spiraling out of control. It wasn’t just emotional anymore—it was physical. His heart was racing, he couldn’t sleep, and he felt sick all the time. He admitted he had even started drinking earlier in the day, unable to stop.

I stood there, stunned. My heart sank, but I knew this wasn’t a moment to fall apart. Without fully processing what I had just heard, I said, “Okay.” My spirit knew what had to happen: he needed help, and we were going to get him there.

By God’s provision, the very first rehab center I found was just 1.7 miles from our new home in the country. Covered by our insurance, it was beautiful, had five-star reviews, and everything about it seemed perfectly reasonable placed in our path. I called, spoke to a kind man who answered all my questions, and by Monday, everything was ready.

That morning, I dropped my husband off at Stonegate Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center. As I drove away from the center, just down the street from our home, I felt an overwhelming wave of emotions unlike anything I’d experienced in our 13.5 years of marriage.

The unknown loomed large. I had no way to contact him, no updates, no idea how he was doing. But I knew something had shifted. I had asked him before to cut back on drinking or at least not mix alcohol with weed, but it had to be his decision. And now, it finally was.

I came home to an empty house, and I broke.

I broke for my husband, who had just walked into rehab, pale and shaken, finally ready to fight the battle that had silently consumed him. I broke for our daughters, who were away at my mother-in-law’s, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling through our family. I broke for myself, for the fear and the unknown staring me straight in the face.

But in that breaking, I changed.

I felt God’s presence in a way I hadn’t before. The God who had been chasing me, who had been chasing my husband, was about to do something huge in our lives. I didn’t know how, but I knew. That week, the toughest of my life, became a turning point.

I cried more than I had in years. I felt anger, sadness, and even resentment. But deep down, I also felt a stirring in my soul. God was doing something in my husband, yes—but He wasn’t stopping there. He wanted to do something in me too.

It wasn’t about drugs or alcohol for me. It was about the things I was holding on to: fear, control, bitterness, even complacency. It was as if God whispered to me, “In order to fight for your family, you’ve got to change too. You can’t expect Erik to carry this cross all by himself. Daughter, this is what you signed up for, and you have everything you need. You have Me.”

And that was it. My relationship with Jesus changed that week. My faith deepened, my trust grew, and my heart began to heal.

Fast forward almost seven months, and in just a few days, my husband will receive his six-month sobriety chip from AA. But it’s more than just a chip—it’s a symbol of hope, grace, transformation, and second chances. 

My husband is a walking miracle. God’s fingerprints are all over his journey. Through every hard day, every temptation, every moment of weakness, God has been there, whispering, “I’ve got you. I’ve got him. I’ve got your family. Trust Me.”

This journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. Addiction is a wicked thing—it destroys exactly what the enemy targets: families, trust, hope. But God is bigger. Miracles happen every single day, and my husband is living proof of that.

Our daughters now have a dad who is fully present. They laugh, play, and make memories with him in a way they never could before. And while life is still far from perfect, I will say this: my husband is sober, and Jesus did that.

If you’re reading this and feeling hopeless, let me tell you: there is hope. God is still in the business of restoring what’s been broken. He can do it for us, and He can do it for you.

One day at a time.

My Prayer

Lord, thank You for being a God who restores and redeems. Thank You for walking with us through the valleys and never letting go.

Today, I pray for anyone reading this who feels lost or overwhelmed. Remind them that You are bigger than addiction, bigger than fear, and bigger than any battle they face. Show them that You are at work, even in the pain.

Help us to trust You, to release the burdens we’ve been carrying, and to stand in the gap for our loved ones. Thank You for being the God of miracles, the God of second chances, and the God who always makes a way.

In Jesus’ name, amen.