18 Years Sober: A Thank You Letter to God

Dear God:

We did it — Today we’re 18 years sober! (Whaaaaaaat???!!!) 

The past year was filled with themes of grief, perseverance, self-discovery, the celebration of life, and a closer, deeper relationship with You. 

These same themes were planted into my foundation of faith during my first three years of sobriety … and I firmly believe the culmination of all three was tightly packed, gift wrapped, and shipped to me this past year. 

The spiritual greeting card neatly tucked inside the box of benevolence said, “Do you still trust Me?”

Much like the first three years, this past year reverberated the same emotions with its not-so-subtle insights. 

Let me explain.

— May 2024: Healing in therapy saying, “There has to be more to life than this.” The exact words were stated when I leaped into sobriety in May 2007.

— July 2024: I left a job I thought was my final stop. Turns out it was a turning point in standing with integrity and finding my voice again.  That same month, 17 years earlier, I was discharged from the military also believing life was over. Instead, it was just beginning.

— August 2024: I found myself asking, “What now?” The same question after I transitioned out of the military to the civilian world.

— September to December 2024: I started DoorDashing, financially stretched, and flashbacks of living in my truck in 2009 were so close I could touch them. 

— January 2025: Just when I was preparing to shut down elorasong, You made a way. The same way You did in 2010, when You provided housing after I had nothing left. 

— February 2025: Solely on faith and the message to press on, I applied for a Master of Arts in Counseling program. That same trembling faith showed up when I applied to Embry-Riddle (again) in 2010.

— March 2025: While reevaluating relationships near and far along with my purpose, I received an acceptance letter for the Fall 2025 term. This same month in 2010 I began courses with ERAU. 

— April 2025: My sister friend in sobriety, Tracy, passed due to cancer. My comfort? Learning, laughing, and growing together in sobriety … and being with her as she took her last breath. 

Though tears of grief are flowing as I write this, my spirit smiles. 

This day is different and difficult — this is the first sober birthday without her, physically. However (comma), I know she’s celebrating alongside my grandparents in spirit. 

— May 2025: This May, I turned 46. I also watched my friend’s son graduate high school. He’s excited about his new chapter of life in London. As I watched his spirit hum with gratitude and excitement, I heard it again:

That resounding reverberation of growth and Your timing. 

Thank You, God, for comforting me in grief, carrying me through doubt, and cradling me when I forgot my own strength.

This 18-year sober milestone isn’t just a celebration of time passed—it’s a reflection of Your presence in every twist and turn.

And if I had to summarize this past year in one sentence?

You asked me to remember. And I did.

Until next time ... onto the next joyous journey.

Elora