This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Getting There”, promises that simply “coming to Jesus” through complete surrender automatically brings life into accordance with one’s deepest desires, stops sinning, and provides divine rest that transforms spiritual exhaustion into “majestic vitality” through instant personal contact with Christ.
Here’s a different approach:
When Elena hit rock bottom with her gambling addiction—$30,000 in debt, lying to her family, stealing from her employer—her sister Rosa urged her to “come to Jesus.” “Just surrender everything to him,” Rosa pleaded. “He promises to give you rest and change everything. Personal contact with Jesus will transform you instantly.”
Elena desperately wanted that kind of supernatural solution. She attended revival meetings, went forward during altar calls, prayed for Jesus to take away her compulsion to gamble. She surrendered her life repeatedly, waiting for the promised transformation that would align her actions with her deepest desire to stop destroying her life.
But the instant change never came. Elena would leave church feeling spiritually renewed, only to find herself at the casino the next evening, feeding money she didn’t have into slot machines. The cycle of spiritual surrender followed by compulsive behavior created additional shame on top of her existing addiction.
Meanwhile, her coworker James took a different approach to his own gambling problem. Instead of seeking spiritual transformation, he sought evidence-based treatment. He joined Gamblers Anonymous and began working the twelve steps with a sponsor who understood addiction from lived experience. He attended cognitive-behavioral therapy sessions that helped him identify triggers and develop healthier coping strategies.
James’s recovery wasn’t instant or supernatural. It required daily choices, practical tools, and ongoing support. He learned to recognize the brain chemistry behind his gambling urges and developed specific techniques to interrupt the cycle. He set up financial barriers—automatic bill payments, restricted access to cash, accountability with his bank.
The “rest” that Elena eventually found didn’t come from surrendering to Jesus but from surrendering to a recovery process that worked. She joined GA after her third failed attempt at spiritual transformation. The group didn’t promise instant change but offered something more valuable: a proven method for managing addiction one day at a time.
Elena’s life did come into alignment with her deepest desires—but through human community, professional guidance, and evidence-based treatment, not divine intervention. The vitality she gained came from rebuilding relationships damaged by gambling, finding new activities that brought genuine joy, and developing self-respect through sustained recovery.
The voice that truly called her to change wasn’t Jesus whispering supernatural invitation but other recovering gamblers sharing their stories and showing her a practical path forward.
Reflection Question: When has finding a proven method for change been more effective than seeking spiritual transformation?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.
God or Delusion? 