From Addiction to Redemption: How God Met Me in My Lowest Place

Hi friend, I’m so grateful you’re here.

My name is Sarah, and I’m a wife, a mom of two, a certified Christian recovery coach, and a Master of Social Work student at a Christian university. But none of those titles came easily. Before I became the woman I am today, I lived through years of addiction, brokenness, and a level of hopelessness I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

My story started at just 13 years old, when I moved from Ireland to America. I had always struggled with anxiety, though I didn’t have the diagnosis or understanding for it back then. All I knew was that I constantly felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Landing in a new country only intensified that discomfort. I turned to alcohol not because I was trying to rebel, but because it helped me cope. It made me feel less anxious, more confident, more like I could belong. We all know the feeling right? We go from being obnoxiously aware of our terrible social skills, to being a social butterfly with no worries.

I started binge drinking on weekends at sleepovers and parties. It seemed harmless at the time – just like what everyone else was doing. But for me, it was never just about having fun. I was drinking to escape. And over the years, what began as a coping tool turned into a dependency I couldn’t see coming.

In my twenties, I started waking up with tremors, heart palpitations, and anxiety that would consume me. I drank in the mornings to stop the shaking. I drank all day to silence the panic. I drank at night to fall asleep. Alcohol had become my lifeline, and without it, I felt like I might die. What I didn’t realize then was that I was already dying on the inside.

For years, I refused to admit I had a problem. I pushed away the people who tried to help. I fought off the truth with everything I had. But after a few run-ins with the law, I could no longer deny what was happening. In my mid-twenties, I entered rehab for the first time. I kicked, I screamed, I threw fit after fit – but eventually, I made it there in one piece.

After that, I managed to put together a few years of sobriety, but I hadn’t found God yet – and even though I wasn’t drinking, I was far from healed. Even without alcohol, I felt like a stranger in my own life. I didn’t feel supported at home. I didn’t feel aligned with motherhood. I didn’t feel safe in my body or my mind. I was constantly crawling out of my skin, and I didn’t know why. I was sober, but I was spiritually and emotionally lost.

In 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic, I relapsed.

That relapse broke me in ways I never imagined. It took me two years to come back from it. Two years of self-destruction. Two years of chaos. I destroyed my relationships. I fractured my family. I lost everything good in my life. I was in and out of treatment centers, cycling through mental health crises, isolation, and despair. Every time I got back up, I fell harder. I didn’t think I could ever get out.

Then one day, at my absolute lowest in rehab, I broke down. I was wailing — uncontrollable, tormented tears — completely consumed by grief, shame, and exhaustion. I had nothing left. And it was in that moment, in that broken place, that I heard something that would change the direction of my entire life.

It wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable – a gentle yet overpowering voice that shocked me out of my tears:

“I am with you, My child.”

That was the first time I truly met God. Not religion. Not rules. Just Him. A real, living, present Savior who saw me at rock bottom – and still wanted me. He didn’t ask me to fix myself. He didn’t shame me. He simply asked me to let Him in.

And I did.

That moment marked the beginning of a new kind of recovery. One built not just on abstinence, but on surrender. On grace. On truth. On Jesus.

Recovery didn’t happen overnight. There were setbacks and stumbles. But I finally stopped trying to do it alone. I let God rebuild what I had destroyed. He restored my life, not to what it used to be – but to something better, deeper, stronger, and whole.

Today, I’m living in freedom. Not perfection, but freedom. I’m sober. I’m anchored in faith. I’m living with purpose. And I get to walk with other women through the same kind of healing.

Recovery 4 Her was created for you – the woman who’s still fighting. The one who’s tired. The one who’s scared. The one who’s ashamed. You are not alone. You are not too far gone. And you are not beyond the reach of God’s love.

If He could reach me in the middle of that darkness, I promise you, He can reach you too.

“This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!”
— 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NLT)

With love and grace,
Sarah.