The Crushing Before the Crown

The Crushing Before the Crown

Understanding Alignment Through Affliction

Personal reflections from a fellow traveler. Not AA approved literature. Shared in the spirit of Experience, Strength, and Hope.

Affliction. Adversity. Anguish.

None of these are words I naturally associate with blessings. In fact, when life becomes uncomfortable, my first inclination is often to ask God to change what is happening around me. Rarely do I begin by asking what needs to change within me.

I've spent a considerable portion of my life trying to avoid discomfort. Seeking the easier way. Looking for relief rather than resolution. I wanted peace without patience. Freedom without surrender. Growth without the growing pains. I wanted the crown but resisted the crushing.

In recovery, I've come to recognize just how deeply rooted my self-will can be. For years I attempted to arrange people, places, and circumstances to suit my own desires. When something threatened my comfort, I resisted it. When something challenged my pride, I defended it. And when life refused to cooperate, I often found myself consumed by resentment.

Step Three of Alcoholics Anonymous invites us to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him. It's a simple principle. Yet I've discovered that understanding surrender and practicing surrender are two entirely different things.

Alignment requires adjustment. And adjustment often requires discomfort.

I don't believe every hardship is sent by God. But I do believe He can use our hardships to reveal things within us that we might otherwise refuse to acknowledge. Pride. Fear. Selfishness. Resentment. The stubborn insistence that life must unfold according to our expectations.

Romans 5:3–4 reminds us that tribulation produces patience, experience, and hope. Notice that the process begins with something we would naturally prefer to avoid.

Perhaps the crushing isn't intended to destroy us. Perhaps it is an opportunity to loosen our grip on the very things that keep us separated from God's will.

I've come to understand that the crown isn't necessarily some grand earthly reward. Sometimes it's the quiet peace that accompanies acceptance. The freedom found in forgiveness. The humility developed through hardship. The willingness to trust God when I cannot understand His timing.

Today, I don't have to welcome every affliction. But I can become willing to learn from it.

Am I asking God to remove the very circumstances He might be using to bring my will into alignment with His?