The Parable of the Sower and Recovering from Addictions

Parables are pictures formed by words that illustrate deeper principles. They stick to our minds through their blend of vividness and truth. And their truth often has more than one application.

I have been under the spell of one parable for many years, beginning in my elementary years in my catholic school.

“A sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell along the path, and was trodden under foot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on rocky ground; and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns; and the thorns grew with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.”        Luke 8:5-8

Pastors and teachers often reference this parable in describing how the Gospel of Jesus is received under differing conditions of an individual’s heart.

Today, I see another application of the truth in this parable.

I am approaching twenty-one years of recovery from alcoholism, a disease that I barely escaped with my life, and one that has left scars on myself as well as my family. We have healed, but we carry those scars as reminders of what we have been healed from.

This parable tells my own story of recovery from addiction, and how I had to experience all four soil types to experience lasting freedom and happiness.

The first soil type on my path to recovery was the hard-packed soil;

“… some fell along the path, and was trodden under foot, and the birds of the air devoured it.”

The first time I walked into a recovery support group meeting, it was through unfortunate circumstances. I would soon discover that I was joining a group who also had similar unfortunate circumstances. We had a few drinks, drove, and committed some minor traffic violation. Now here we are.

Folks like us were crowding recovery rooms and the court system all over the nation. We would “shape up” for a little while—for me it usually lasted thirty days or so—then we return to our normal drinking patterns until the next unfortunate circumstance.

Here is an apt description of myself in my earliest exposure to recovery;

“Now and then a serious drinker, being dry at the moment says, “I don’t miss it at all. Feel better. Work better. Having a better time.” As ex-problem drinkers, we smile at such a sally. We know our friend is like a boy whistling in the dark to keep up his spirits. He fools himself. Inwardly he would give anything to take half a dozen drinks and get away with them. He will presently try the old game again, for he isn’t happy about his sobriety. He cannot picture life without alcohol.”   

                                                      Alcoholics Anonymous, pgs. 151-152

This is a well-trodden path, the soil packed down hard by the millions of us who keep repeating our behaviors. It is estimated that over 90% of those who enter the recovery pool for their first time never stay. About 30% will return for subsequent attempts.

After some time I would try again, with just slightly more earnest; This was the second type of soil.

“.. some fell on rocky ground; and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture.”

After several more “unfortunate circumstances” over a period of several years, I knew I had a problem. I decided with a lot of encouragement to get some help. I gave recovery more effort and accumulated several months of sobriety. I was feeling better. I made a few changes, went to a few more meetings, talked to those with more experience in recovery. I listened carefully in support meetings as men and women shared their firsthand experiences. I took written notes. Things were looking good.

In recovery rooms they call this “The Pink Cloud Syndrome”. My family was patting me on the back. I had become one of the many “Ninety-Day Wonders”— those who have done little except go to meetings and talk about how great not drinking or using drugs is.

Without committing to a definite change of life, the recovering person will not stay long enough to sink down his roots. He is trying to grow on rocky ground.

Then, there is this third soil type;

“…And some fell among thorns; and the thorns grew with it and choked it…”

This may be the saddest case of the three bad soils, one I see happen repeatedly to others. I started over with fervor and hope. I knew at this point that I had to do things differently and follow some suggestions of others. Because I did, I stayed clean and sober for several years. My life changed, and it got bigger. I was taking on more responsibilities at work, involved in other activities such as church, civic action, teaching, and public speaking. I got busy with what I felt was important stuff.

Gradually, imperceptibly, I drifted away from those practices that had given me those years of sobriety. I had gone off “the beam”.  Once more, I allowed my active life to pull me from the very activities that gave me what I needed to live free and happy, choking out my spiritual nourishment. I drank. Hard.

I lost everything but my life during this last relapse. I re-entered a treatment program and came out with a new willingness to do whatever it took for as long as it took. Only then did I find the soil required for life-long sobriety.

“… And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.”

This summer has been hard on my lawn. I live in the Pacific Northwest, where the cool summer and the shade of my lawn create the perfect conditions for moss to take over the grass. I pulled up large patches of moss, leaving my lawn scarred with bare spots. Following the directions on the grass seed package, I loosened the dirt down to about two inches, spread the grass seed evenly, raked the seed into the loose soil, and covered it with a thin layer of rich topsoil. I then watered the patches twice a day for two weeks. You should see the thick emerald green grass rising up. It’s all in the soil!

The soil required for lasting recovery from addiction is loose and rich and moist. When the farmer churns and turns the soil inside out with the plow, he loosens it and exposes nutrients. So to is the hard ,or rocky or thorny soil of the heart made good by the “plower of life”– when the stubborn, self reliant ego is bashed and what is left is a desperate, final plea for help. The result– an abiding willingness for sustained action—not temporary ‘good behavior”.

In Bill Wilson’s own story in the book “Alcoholics Anonymous”, he tells of his close friend Ebby showing up at his door clean and sober after years of debilitating drinking.

Here is Bills account;

“ I saw that my friend was much more than inwardly organized. He was on a different footing. His roots grasped a new soil”

This fourth type of soil is the only type I have found that will grant me the gift of recovery, which is nothing less than the gift of liberation. It is a soil made from a willingness to build one’s life on the foundation of daily spiritual practices that yields a life-code of love and service to others.

This is a good parable, with many applications, none more relevant than to my recovery. I have at one time or another fallen on all four soil types. Had I known the value of the good soil, I may have sought it out. But then, I would not be able to tell you directly how insufficient the other three are.

You have been told.

Kind Regards.

Bob