When we first make a truce with alcohol—whether choosing moderation or abstinence—we often imagine a calmer, more controlled life. And in many ways, that’s true. But there is a harder, more profound truth that every person on this path will eventually face:

Recovery doesn’t mean life gets easier. It means you must face life at its most cruel and devastating moments completely sober.

Think of the curveballs that shatter a life:

• The sudden loss of a job that defined you.
• The heart-wrenching grief of losing a beloved pet.
• The earth-shattering pain of losing a spouse or family member.
• The shock and betrayal of being defrauded or facing financial ruin.
• The exhausting, drawn-out agony of a divorce.
• A debilitating accident that changes everything.

The list of life’s hardships is endless. For years, many of us had a reflexive response to this pain: reach for a drink. It was our anesthetic, our way of blurring the sharp edges of reality.

Now, in your truce, you are disarming that reflex. And when the storm hits, the old voice will whisper:

“This is different. This pain is too much. One drink will ease the burden. God wouldn’t want you to suffer like this. You can handle it. You deserve it.”

I am here to tell you, from 13 years of walking this path, that this is the voice of the poison, not of grace. Moderation works best when your mind is clear and your spirit is grounded. In the raw, immediate aftermath of a soul-crushing loss, those faculties can feel shattered. This is precisely the moment when the truce is most vulnerable—and most vital.

I would argue that this is not the time to reach for the bottle, but to fall to your knees. It is the time to clutch your Bible tighter, not a glass. It is the moment to feel the breaking of your heart fully, trusting that you are not alone in that pain.

As it is written in Psalm 34:18, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

He is closest to you in that moment of shattering. But you must choose to feel that closeness. You cannot numb your heart to His presence. Choosing to feel the pain, as unbearable as it seems, is an act of profound faith. It is saying, “I trust that You are here with me in this, and I will not run from it.”

The ultimate test of your grateful truce is not held on a sunny, easy day. It is forged in the storm. It is when life hands you every conceivable reason to drink, and you find within yourself—and through your faith—every reason to stay clear.

These unforeseen hardships are not just tests of willpower; they are opportunities. Opportunities to prove the depth of your recovery and the strength of your faith. To prove to yourself that you can withstand even the worst losses without returning to the thing that once controlled you.

I stand with you. I have walked through this fire many times over the last 13 years. The pain is real, but so is the strength you will find on the other side.

Stay sober. Feel the pain. Lean on your faith. You are stronger than you know.

God bless.

Chris Mosser

Author of Grateful Truce & The AGI Dilemma

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