Two days ago, on May 21, I posted a reel celebrating 15 years sober.

It wasn’t quiet—it was bold. Because honestly, I’ve got a lot to celebrate. But I needed a little more time to reflect. To put into words what this milestone really means. This is for those who wanted to hear more than a 30-second soundbite or just to help me process…. 

Because 15 years ago, I wasn’t just addicted. I was completely lost. And today, I don’t just celebrate sobriety—I celebrate a Savior who never gave up on me.

My Story Didn’t End in the Pit

Fifteen years ago, I woke up lost and empty. I had hurt people I loved. I had broken trust. I had nothing left to prove, and no one left to convince. I had hit the bottom.

But God didn’t walk away from me.

He met me in my mess. He saw something worth saving when I couldn’t see any way out. And on that day—just a normal Friday(May 21, 2010)—I said yes to surrender. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t polished. It was just real. A small, quiet beginning.

And it turns out, that’s the kind of moment God loves to work with.

Zechariah 4:10 (NLT): “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”

I’m living proof that small beginnings matter.

This Journey Hasn’t Been Perfect

Let me be real: I’ve stumbled along the way. I relapsed early in recovery. I doubted myself. I’ve had seasons where I felt stuck, unseen, or unworthy. There were days I didn’t think I’d make it another 24 hours. Days and weeks I felt like completely throwing in the towel again. 

But here’s the truth: my sobriety hasn’t been perfect—it’s been surrendered.

There’s no secret formula, no magic strategy. Just grace. Daily grace. The kind that keeps showing up when I want to give up.

Philippians 1:6 (NLT): “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished…”

God has continued His work in me every single day—through failure, fear, and frustration. And He’s not finished yet.

Jesus Is the Only Rockstar Here

He’s the one who carried me when I was broken. He’s the one who restored what I destroyed. He’s the one who gave me purpose beyond my past.

Psalm 40:2–3 (NLT): “He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along. He has given me a new song to sing…”

That’s exactly what He’s done. He gave me a new song—a song of grace, of freedom, of redemption.

Recovery Is More Than Not Using. Sobriety is part of my story, but recovery goes deeper than just “not using.” Recovery means I show up as a husband who’s present. A father who’s intentional. A leader who speaks hope. A pastor who serves people still stuck in the places I once called home.

Fifteen years sober means I’ve learned how to live—not just survive.

It means I’ve learned how to walk with others, not just run from my past. It means I’ve watched God turn my pain into purpose. And every single day, I get to remind someone else that freedom is possible.

Lessons From 15 Years Sober

Here are a few things I’ve learned along the way—some through tears, some through grace:

– You don’t have to be perfect. Just be surrendered.

– Small beginnings turn into big stories. Don’t despise them.

– Grace is stronger than relapse.

– You’re not disqualified because of your past. God redeems.

– People matter. Community is essential. Isolation is a trap.

– Jesus is the anchor. Always has been. Always will be.

To Anyone Still in the Fight

If you’re reading this and you’re struggling—whether it’s day one or day one thousand—hear me: You are not alone. You are not too far gone. You are not disqualified. God’s not done with you.

Whether you’ve relapsed, doubted, or drifted—grace is still available. And maybe today’s the day you start again. Maybe today’s your small beginning.

I’m Grateful. Not Deserving. And I didn’t get here by sheer willpower—I got here by grace. God has been so good. So faithful. So patient. Fifteen years later, I’m still sober. Still standing. Still surrendered. And more grateful than I can explain.

Here’s to the next fifteen. One day at a time. One prayer at a time. All by grace. All for His glory.