Check the Other Nostril

So, here’s the thing—I’ve never had a drinking problem. That’s not to say I’m above it, but I’ve watched some folks (that I love deeply) self-destruct as a result of alcohol. So I treat it with a healthy fear.

It would be easy for me, I think, to recuse myself from examination under the microscope of recovery because I don’t have a “traditional” addiction.  

After all, I’ve seen what real addiction looks like, and I’m nothing like that.  

Sure. But…

As an adult child of an alcoholic, let’s be honest—I’m pretty flush with baggage of my own. (Even if that baggage isn’t stuffed with duty-free vodka from the airport. Back when people still went to the airport.)

My daughter—who takes after her dad—never likes to admit when she’s sick. (Probably because this means she can’t play outside and eat donuts.) Even when there’s a small waterfall of mucus flowing from her nose into her mouth, she’s like, “I’m fine, Mommy! I’m not sick!”

Last fall, she caught a bad cold, and the pediatrician told us to do a few albuterol breathing treatments. So after dinner, I say, “Ember, we have to use Sammy the Seal when you’re finished eating.” (Sammy is the name of her seal-shaped nebulizer which I think is supposed to make it kid-friendly—but the net effect is now she just hates seals.)

“Mommy, I DON’T have a cold!” she says (while coughing).

So I say, “Babe, do you know what a cold is?”

“What?”

“A cold is when you’re coughing and sneezing and both your nostrils are stuffed up.”

And she says, “Well only ONE nostril is stuffy—so I don’t have a cold!”

I can use someone else’s pneumonia to pretend like my sinus infection doesn’t matter.  But it does.  

Check your other nostril, baby. You’re sick.  

“My guess is that we’ve all been anesthetizing ourselves in some form or another.”

Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” Our hearts will blind us to things we don’t want to see. In fact, our hearts will even blind us to the things that we do see.

You know why people get addicted to things? Drugs, alcohol, pornography? For most people, these things aren’t actually the problem—these things are the solution. The solution to some misery in their life they’re trying to escape or to numb. Whatever the addiction has become, it was first an anesthetic.  

After months of pandemic, job loss, racial injustice, “working” from home, distance learning, economic collapse, lonely quarantine, and fear of the future, my guess is that we’ve all been anesthetizing ourselves in some form or another.  

Maybe it’s a few glasses of wine at the end of each day. Or maybe it’s a constant stream of television. Maybe it’s our mainline to our smartphones. Maybe it’s excessive exercising. Maybe it’s eating yourself sick. Maybe it’s just that subtle shift from relying on God to relying on your spouse (or kids or family or dog) to fill the empty chasm that 2020 has ripped through all our hearts.  

However we began 2020, we are different now.

We’re all addicted to something. News. Comfort. Oreos. Doom-scrolling. Self-Sufficiency.

Some of these are more socially acceptable than others, so nobody will pressure you to address them. And in truth, they probably won’t kill you. But that doesn’t mean they won’t take any life.  

If you’re anything like me, you’ve picked up at least one bad habit in 2020, and we could all use a little help righting the ship again.

The Sixty-Minute Seminars are designed to shed light into these newly dark places. They’re for everyone. And they’re very practical.  

What does addiction look like? Do I have one or don’t I?  

What are some good habits I can start, so I don’t wake up with my face in a carton of Ben and Jerry’s and Downton Abbey on a loop in the background with some new, unexpected addiction?

I encourage you to join us. Even if you don’t have a traditional addiction. Even if you have no addiction at all.

Let’s check the other nostril, baby—even if you don’t feel sick.

Kailey Newkirk is a Teaching Minister at Summit Church. She enjoys learning, writing, and speaking (in that exact order) and she prefers to turn left into parking spots. Like all parents, she believes she has the smartest and most attractive child in existence. Kailey is also a sci-fi nerd and reads C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia every night to fall asleep.