The Edge of the Cliff

A story out of the old West tells about a stagecoach owner interviewing applicants for driver. He stood at a dangerous curve on a winding mountain road where one side dropped hundreds of feet sharply into the canyon below. The owner asked, “Driving six horses at full speed, how close can you come to the edge of the cliff and not go over?” The first man said, “About one foot.” The second tested the ground at the edge with his boot and replied, “I can hang one wheel off the edge and still pull the stage back onto the road.” The third applicant said, “I wouldn’t go near that edge! I’d hug the mountainside all the way around the curve.” He was hired.

That’s what recovery means: not taking a chance that would send me over the edge.

As a sexaholic, I used to go over the edge often. I let resentments and fears push me into unwholesome behavior. I allowed my sexual urges to drive me into immoral acts and thoughts. I went over the cliff so many times with my lies and deceitful tales that I couldn’t even tell where the edge of the cliff was. And I took those I loved with me over that cliff down into the pain, shame, and misery at the bottom.

Today I know where the edge is. With the help of my Higher Power and the tools of the Twelve Step program of SA, I resolutely refuse to go near it.

Help me this day, O God, to hug the side of the mountain and to stay far away from the edge of the cliff. Amen.

Anonymous

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