Sanctuary Clinics, 984 Boston Highway, Monticello, FL (2026)

03/13/2026

In Thought
“As men and women of the additional birth, we stand at the intersection of the merely natural "fleshly" and the spiritual. Saint Thomas Aquinas coined the word to express this state—Aevum. It is the mean between eternity and time, sharing in them both. It is two lives, two streams of awareness and power, mingling together in the individual who must choose which one he or she will truly be. The focus on entering new life with Christ requires that we take a stand as to who we are in this new life, that we identify with the Christ—life in us and against the sin still present in ourselves and that we settle in our will the question of who we intend to be. This is what it means to "count ourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (Romans 6:11). “
–Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ

In Reflection
Dallas Willard identifies the central spiritual reality for those born anew in Christ: we stand at a critical intersection, a state that St. Thomas Aquinas called Aevum, where the stream of the natural, “fleshly” life mingles with the stream of the spiritual life. Every day, every moment, our lives are made up of choices at this intersection. We are constantly confronted with the option of walking in the old ways of the world or walking in the new, life-giving ways of the Spirit.

The world’s voice is undeniably loud and seductive. It promises instant gratification, isolation, and quick fixes—the very lies that feed addictive and unhealthy lifestyles. As any person in recovery knows, the more we listen and surrender to that cacophony, the harder it becomes to tune out. The constant noise of confusion and self-seeking blares loudest when we are alone, which is why isolation is such a leading symptom in most mental health conditions and addiction.

However, the more we choose to tune our ears to God’s voice and His truth, the easier it becomes to recognize the voice of selfless love rising above the selfish lies. This choice to “count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” requires a firm stand of identification. It means settling in our will the question of who we intend to be, aligning our identity with the Christ-life working within us. We consciously choose to identify with the new power, even as the old sin remains present.

We weren’t meant to go it alone! Finding and sharing the journey with other God followers is a key component of training our ears and our hearts. When we are plugged into a supportive community, we find the strength to choose the voice of life over the chaos of isolation. Where are you plugged in with other believers? Who are you intentionally sharing life’s journey with today to help train your ear to truth?

—DH

In Deed
When you feel the "noise" of old habits or negative self-talk today, stop and visualize yourself at an intersection. Consciously state: "I choose the stream of the Spirit." Then, reach out to one person in your support circle to break the isolation and stay "plugged in."

03/13/2026

Guilt lives in the past.
Worry lives in the future.
Peace lives in the present.

03/12/2026

The quality of your life is directly proportionate to the quality of your self talk.

03/12/2026

In Thought
“Jesus says to Simon Peter that he, and we ourselves, must first ‘be sifted like wheat’ and only then are we in a position ‘to recover and in turn strengthen others.’ Such undergoing is the seminary that finally matters.” – Richard Rohr, “Why is it that Mother Teresa could stand up before crowds of thousands and repeat simple New Testament phrases and seemingly pious clichés, and still blow people away? She didn't say anything new. She assured us that Jesus loves us and that, as sons and daughters of God, we are all loved, and we have to love Jesus's poor. Yet people walked out renewed, transformed and converted. She was not a priest or minister. She was not well educated. Her authority came from her lifestyle, her solidarity with human suffering, and thus, her pure goodness. Loving servanthood and foundational surrender are the true basis for teaching authority in the church, much more than title, vestment, roles or office. Such lives have the living authority of Jesus himself. I need no special ordination or public validation. Jesus says to Simon Peter that he, and we ourselves, must first "be sifted like wheat" and only then are we in a position "to recover and in turn strengthen others." Such undergoing is the seminary that finally matters and that changes others’ lives. It was Jesus' essential and first recovery program.”

–Richard Rohr, Daily Meditations

In Reflection
In recovery, we often feel disqualified by our failures, our struggles, and the ways we have been “sifted like wheat.” We look at those we admire and assume their authority comes from a title, a flawless history, or special education. Yet, the lives of figures like Mother Teresa, as Richard Rohr points out, demonstrates a different source of power: living authority born from solidarity with human suffering and foundational surrender. The “seminary that finally matters” is the ongoing process of surviving affliction and allowing God to comfort us in the midst of it.

This experience of being sifted is not meant to be the end of your story; it is your preparation. God is not done with you; He is equipping you in the midst of this trial so that you will be a powerful voice for His redemptive love. Your brokenness, when healed by God’s grace, becomes your credential. The authority you will carry to others will not come from a special office, but from the simple, living truth that you have undergone the struggle and come out with the comfort of God’s presence.

This is the great exchange described by the Apostle Paul: God comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort others with the very same comfort we received. You will be able to look another person in the eyes—a person lost in the grip of addiction, anxiety, or despair—and say, with unshakable authority, “I’ve been where you are; I sought the Lord, and He heard, and He answered!” You will know, firsthand , that He never fails and that He never leaves you nor forsakes you.

The purpose of your recovery is larger than your personal peace; it is a ministry. May God minister to you in your struggle, and then, through you, to others. Where can you step into your God-given authority today by sharing a piece of the comfort you have already received?

—DH

In Deed
Reach out to someone you know who is currently "being sifted" by a struggle you have previously survived. Don't offer advice; simply say, "I've been there, and God comforted me. He will do the same for you." Share the comfort you've been given.

03/11/2026

Think not that humility is weakness; it shall supply the marrow of strength to thy bones.

Stoop and conquer;
bow thyself and become invincible.

03/11/2026

In Thought
“Despite failure, Paul chooses to identify with his new life. He acknowledges and affirms his union with what himself cleaves to the good. "Not I, but sin" of Romans 7:20 "it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me" must be read alongside "not I but Christ" of Galatians 2:20. "I am crucified with Christ; nevertheless, I live; yet not I but Christ lives in me." Some who say such things seek to excuse themselves from responsibility for their inner sinfulness or their sinful actions. But not Paul. Paul—like others who have come to life in Christ through the ages—does not excuse or accuse. He accepts the full measure of guilt. He is now concerned with how to enter into the new life to its fullest.”
– Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart: Putting On the Character of Christ

In Reflection
The Apostle Paul’s admission in Romans 7, perhaps the most personally relatable passage in Scripture, can be paraphrased as follows: “The fact is, I know it’s nothing good living in me... instead of doing the good things I want to do, I carry out the simple things I do not want.” We have all been there—knowing the Christlike response would be gentle words or patience, but allowing the old self, the flesh, to offer up a harsh reply or a destructive choice instead. This passage captures the constant, honest struggle within the human heart, especially for those pursuing recovery and consistent wellness.

The crucial move Paul makes is not to use this struggle as an excuse. As Dallas Willard notes, Paul does not excuse or accuse; he accepts the full measure of guilt. Instead, he shifts his identity. His honesty about the internal struggle (“it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me”) is immediately balanced by his affirmation of his new life (“nevertheless, I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me,” Galatians 2:20). He chooses to identify with his union with Christ, not his past failures.

This is a high calling we bear as followers of Christ: a reminder that we are no longer defined by the compulsive, sinful part of us. When we walk “in Christ” and manage to get it right—choosing grace over grievance, sobriety over escape—it is a moment of glory, a tangible sign of Christ’s life in us. Likewise, when we fall short, we are comforted by God’s grace and mercy. Our task is to confess our shortcomings and failures before Him, own the guilt, and then immediately choose to identify with the new life He has given us. Glory be to God when we fall short in our sinfulness, confess it, experience His forgiveness and grow from the experience. Today, when you inevitably fall short of your best intentions, how will you choose to identify yourself: by the sin dwelling within, or by the Christ living through you?

—DH

In Deed
When you catch yourself having a negative thought or impulse today, stop and say: "That is the old self, but it is not who I am. Christ lives in me." Consciously "hand the sifte" to the Christ-life within you for the very next action you take.

03/10/2026

You will never feel ready.
Ready is not a feeling.
It’s a decision.

03/10/2026

In Thought
“We often think that service is doing things for others. That sometimes needs to be. But service takes on its true character when we do things with others. This is never an easy road to travel. It is the slow road requiring much patience and care. It gives credit to what another may contribute. It takes on the pace of another. We find it easier to do things for others. We can then be our quick and efficient selves. We can then set the terms and conditions. We can then be available or withdraw when it suits us. Such service may make us feel good, but it frequently disempowers the other person. Nouwen, from his experience of working with mentally and physically disabled persons at L’Arche, came to realize that true service “asks for a deep inner conviction that a slow job done together is better than a fast job done alone.” Such service does not have a quick end result in view. It has a process in view. It sees service as a joining with the other. It sees service as a companionship and walking a common road for a period of time.”

—Charles Ringma, Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen

In Reflection
Charles Ringma, reflecting on the work of Henri Nouwen, highlights a critical distinction in service: we often think service means doing things for others, but its true, Christ-like character emerges when we do things with others. The former allows us to be quick, efficient, and in control—setting the terms and conditions—but often disempowers the other person. This easier, faster road appeals directly to the self-will and need for control that so often plagues those in recovery.

The deeper invitation of service is to walk a common road, entering into companionship. This path is slower, requires immense patience and care, and demands that we take on the pace of another. In a healing environment, this kind of service is profoundly transformative. It means sharing vulnerability and honoring what another may contribute, rather than simply fixing their problems for them. For those fighting addiction or struggling with mental health, being fixed is far less empowering than being joined.

Nouwen’s realization, born from working with vulnerable persons, should be our conviction: a slow job done together is better than a fast job alone. This kind of service prioritizes the process, seeing it as a joining with the other. It removes the rush for a quick end result and replaces it with the deep reward of shared presence. Real service is not about efficiency or control; it is about presence. Whether you are giving or receiving help today, this principle applies. It means walking at someone else's pace, listening more than fixing, and offering your presence instead of just your skills. Remember: the purpose is not how fast you get to the perceived finish line, but about walking together in love and mutual support. That shared journey, full of patience and companionship, is precisely where deep, lasting healing happens.

—DH

In Deed
Today, when someone asks for help or shares a struggle, resist the urge to provide a "quick fix" or a fast solution. Instead, offer your presence by asking: "Can I just sit with you for a while?" or "How can we tackle this together?" Practice the "slow job" of companionship.

03/09/2026

The chief mark of counterfeit holiness is its lack of humility.

03/09/2026

In Thought
“O GOD,

Though I am allowed to approach thee I am not unmindful of my sins,

I do not deny my guilt, I confess my wickedness, and earnestly plead forgiveness.

May I with Moses choose affliction rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin.

Help me to place myself always under thy guiding and guardian care, to take firmer hold of the sure covenant that binds me to thee, to feel more of the purifying, dignifying, softening influence of the religion I profess, to have more compassion, love, pity, courtesy, to deem it an honor to be employed by thee as an instrument in thy hands, ready to seize every opportunity of usefulness, and willing to offer all my talents to thy service.

Thou hast done for me all things well, hast remembered, distinguished, indulged me.

All my desires have not been gratified, but thy love denied them to me when fulfillment of my wishes would have proved my ruin or injury.

My trials have been fewer than my sins, and when I have kissed the rod it has fallen from thy hands.

Thou hast often wiped away my tears, restored peace to my mourning heart, chastened me for my profit.

All thy work for me is perfect, and I praise thee.”
—The Valley of Vision

In Reflection
This Puritan prayer from the Valley of Vision is a powerful model of faith, beginning with bold confession and repentance: “I do not deny my guilt, I confess my wickedness, and earnestly plead forgiveness.” For those in recovery and facing mental health struggles, this is the essential first step—owning our part in our pain, rather than hiding in shame or blame. The prayer then shifts to a plea for empowered choice, asking to choose affliction rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin, just as Moses did. This choice is the daily pivot point away from destructive patterns; it is the willingness to embrace the temporary discomfort of honesty and growth over the fleeting, ruinous gratification of addiction.

The prayer seeks a singular focus that contrasts sharply with our modern, distraction-saturated world. Our forefathers, perhaps free of the constant noise of modern technology, seemed to sense God more readily. We must silence the noise all about us and seek that still, small voice to regain perspective. The prayer asks for the practical results of a renewed faith: more compassion, love, pity, courtesy, and a readiness to seize every opportunity of usefulness as an instrument in God's hands. This shift from selfish consumption to selfless contribution is the visible evidence of inner renewal.

Significantly, the prayer acknowledges God’s perfect wisdom, even in denial: “All my desires have not been gratified, but thy love denied them to me when fulfillment of my wishes would have proved my ruin or injury.” This acceptance of God's 'no' is the ultimate surrender of self-will. We must recognize, as the prayer does, that our trials have been fewer than our sins, and that God has chastened us only for our profit. When we kiss the rod, acknowledging His perfect sovereignty and love, the rod falls from His hands. May we find such a singular focus, renewed in this profound choice to trust His perfect work for us.

—DH

In Deed
Today, when faced with a choice between a "quick fix" (a fleeting pleasure or distraction) and a more difficult path of growth, choose the "affliction" of growth. Explicitly thank God for a "no" He has given you in the past, recognizing it as a protection of His love.

03/08/2026

In Thought
“O God, I have tasted your goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want you; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me your glory, I pray, so that I may know you indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Then give me grace to rise and follow you up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.“

—A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

In Reflection
A. W. Tozer’s prayer encapsulates the profound paradox of genuine spiritual life: God's goodness has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. For those in recovery from addiction, this is a powerful reorientation of desire. Addiction is defined by a deep, constant thirst that earthly means—substances, behaviors, or chaos—can never truly quench. The soul is constantly left wanting, leading to cycles of craving and despair. Tozer models the necessary shift: redirecting that intense, often painful, longing toward God.

The prayer confronts a common struggle in the spiritual journey: “I am ashamed of my lack of desire.” This honesty is the starting point for authentic change. We confess that we want to want you and long to be filled with longing. This is a prayer for renewed spiritual appetite, asking God to create the very desire we lack. This is critical for healing, as it places the burden of generating spiritual hunger on God's grace rather than on our own weak will. We acknowledge that we cannot bootstrap our way to genuine devotion.

Just a taste of the Lord’s goodness—His faithfulness, His righteousness, His grace—leaves us urgently wanting more. So, cry out for more! Pray today that God will give you more of an experience of His glory, which is the ultimate, satisfying reality. We are asking Him to “Begin in mercy a new work of love within me.” We ask the Lord to say to our soul, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away,” and then give us the strength to follow Him up from the misty lowland of doubt, confusion, and fear where we have wandered so long. This is the prayer of a soul trading fleeting, destructive desires for the eternal, satisfying presence of Christ. Embrace this thirst, for it is proof that the old, destructive desires are being replaced by the only one that leads to life.

—DH

In Deed
When you experience a craving or a "thirst" for a temporary comfort today, pause and pray: "Lord, I redirect this thirst to You. Satisfy me with Your goodness and make me want more of You." Use the physical sensation of thirst as a reminder to seek a spiritual filling.

03/08/2026

Underrated truth: You're not responsible for your first thought — that’s conditioning.

You are responsible for your second thought and every action that follows.

Between stimulus and response, there's a space.

That space is where you're built.

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