Your Future Self Will Thank You

by Drew Dyck

  Let’s say you’re addicted to online pornography. It may be that the best way to purge the addiction from your life isn’t just through prayer and accountability, as valuable as those things are. You might need to cancel your internet service for a year. It may be painful, but during that time you will taste freedom from the addiction, deepen your spiritual life, and form new habits. When you do hook up the internet (hopefully with some new precautions), you’ll have a track record of purity and new patterns in your life that help you resist the temptation.

  Or say your spending is out of control. You may want to check into spending rehab—not literally, but mentally. Commit to a period of time when you’re not allowed to go near a mall, retail store, or shopping website. Once you’ve broken the addiction, you can reflect on why you’ve been relying on a shopping habit for excitement and find healthy replacement activities. Then slowly introduce shopping with some wise restrictions.

  In our conversation, Russell compared addiction to a broken bone. “When you break your leg, you need a cast,” he said. “It’s like that with addiction. Eventually, you have to start moving the leg again. But at the beginning, you need that rigid structure.” I think that’s true for addicts of all kinds. Sometimes we need extreme restrictions to loosen the stronghold of sin. In the end, we find that confinement brings freedom.

  POWER OF COMMUNITY

  To improve our self-control, we need God—and each other. When you look at how addicts recover, one truth stands out perhaps clearer than any other: they need community. This is something Russell stresses. “When participants transition out of the program, the most important choices they have involve who they spend time with, and where they feel like they belong.”

  Recently as I was waiting for a flight at the airport, a sixty-something man sat down next to me and whipped out a book. The title grabbed my attention: I’ll Quit Tomorrow: A Practical Guide to Alcoholism Treatment. I asked him about it, and immediately regretted doing so. He was clearly embarrassed by the question. He shifted in his seat and flipped the book over to hide the title. “I’m writing a book on self-control,” I told him. “That’s why your book caught my eye.”

  These words seemed to ease his apprehension. “I’ve been clean for years, but I’m starting to help other people who have the same issue,” he told me. What did he think about self-control? “It’s important,” he said. “But if you just rely on self-control, you’re dead. You need a community around you. I know alcoholics who haven’t had a drop for forty years and still go to the AA meetings.”

  I marveled at the idea of someone clean forty years, still dutifully driving to meetings, pulling up a metal chair in some dingy gymnasium, and introducing himself as an alcoholic. Why would he do that? “There’s no such thing as an ex-alcoholic,” the man at the airport said, suddenly very serious. “They know they still need the support.” For addicts, community isn’t optional. Like my new friend said, without it you’re dead. Even those who stay sober for decades need it.

  Support groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous demonstrate the importance of a social network to bolster self-control. We tend to think of self-control as a solitary virtue; it’s just me squaring off against temptation. But the people we spend time with dramatically affect our ability to regulate our behavior. Hundreds of studies have demonstrated the powerful effects peers have on our behavior. We’re actually wired for this influence. Our brains are equipped with “mirror neurons,” that help us discern what people around us are thinking and feeling. These specialized neurons enable us to empathize with others and even “feel” their pains and desires. Of course when it comes to behavior, this unique ability cuts both ways. Willpower failures are contagious, but so is virtue. Psychologist Kelly McGonigal writes, “You can catch self-control as well as self-indulgence.”8 There’s a reason your parents didn’t want you hanging out with those “bad influences” in high school. They were right to be concerned.

  Scripture warns, “Bad company corrupts good character” (1 Cor. 15:33). It also speaks of the benefits that come with hanging around the right kind of people: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Prov. 27:17).

  By spending time with people who encourage us and hold us accountable, we give ourselves the best chance at improving our behavior. One crucial way to do this is by cultivating one of the keystone habits we discussed in chapter 6: church attendance. Meeting regularly with like-minded believers reinforces righteous behavior. Part of the reason Paul urged the early Christians not to neglect gathering together was because it was an opportunity “to stimulate one another to love and good deeds” (Heb. 10:24 NASB).

  If you have an ongoing struggle with a specific sin, it’s wise to seek out a group of fellow strugglers. Yet picking the right group of friends to keep you accountable is key. Research has shown there’s a happy medium when it comes to finding the right support network. Joining a group of chronic failures will drag you down. Hanging around only with super saints can have the same effect. The key is to align with a group of people with similar goals and similar struggles.9 Part of the reason AA is so effective is because it surrounds recovering alcoholics with recovering alcoholics. If an alcoholic seeks out people who have never touched a drink, they wouldn’t benefit as much. On the other hand, hanging out with old drinking buddies guarantees a relapse. What they need are fellow strugglers, people who can come alongside them with both empathy and encouragement.

  The worst thing you can do is battle temptation alone. When it comes to self-control, lone rangers are dead rangers. To control ourselves, we need others.

  DIVINE DEPENDENCE

  Another aspect of AA that puzzles secular psychologists: the central place it gives to God. Even though AA opts for generic language like “Power greater than ourselves” and “God as we understood Him,” seeking divine assistance is integral to the program. Six of the twelve steps mention God and one speaks of a “spiritual awakening.” After confessing their own weakness in Step 1, alcoholics “believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity” and then “turn our will and our lives over to the care of God.”10

  In The Power of Habit, Charles Duhigg examines AA at length, describing it as “the largest, most well-known and successful habit-changing organization in the world.”11 He writes that part of AA’s success comes from how it enables participants to replace bad habits with good ones. “AA succeeds because it helps alcoholics use the same cues, and get the same reward, but it shifts the routine,” he writes.12 Duhigg observes that AA’s “system of meetings and companionship” provides the perfect replacement for the activity of drinking. When tempted to drink, AA members can turn to a warm community of recovering alcoholics rather than going on a bender at the bar.13

  But Duhigg admits that habits don’t explain all of AA’s success. He cites research showing that habit replacement works for alcoholics—but only up to a point. If they have a major stressful event in their life, like the loss of a loved one or serious health problem, they often relapsed. Yet, as Duhigg reports, “those alcoholics who believed … that some higher power had entered their lives were more likely to make it through the stressful periods with their sobriety intact.” The power of belief shocked and frustrated researchers. “Researchers hated that explanation,” Duhigg writes. “God and spirituality are not testable hypotheses.”14

  Such findings shouldn’t surprise Christians, however. We know the wisdom of surrendering to God. It’s how we access the power to live a holy life. Apart from Christ, we can do nothing (John 15:5). Surrender is also essential for not doing things that we shouldn’t. After all, the Bible’s prescription for resisting the devil is not to declare your strength and self-sufficiency. It’s to first submit yourself to God (see James 4:7).

  Why does this surrender enable self-control?

  Duhigg dismisses the idea of divine intervention. “It wasn’t God that mattered,” he writes. “It was belief itself that made a difference.” From a secular pers
pective, I’m sure that explanation is partly true. In chapter 2, we saw the power of “sanctified goals.” When we attach ultimate significance to our pursuits, we dramatically increase the likelihood of success. It’s not necessary to invoke the supernatural to explain this; it’s just a psychological principle. Infusing an activity with ultimate significance strengthens our ability to do it. And there’s nothing more ultimate than God.

  Yet as a believer I know there’s more than psychology at play. The Bible is filled with promises of divine sustenance and strengthening for those who surrender to God. It’s not like we’re puppets, controlled without effort. We don’t “let go and let God.” Like we saw in chapter 7, our effort should not be pitted against divine empowerment. Rather, as we give control to God, He empowers us to be able to flee sin and pursue righteousness. As Erwin Lutzer writes, “You become stronger only when you become weaker. When you surrender your will to God, you discover the resources to do what God requires.”15 Surrender becomes the engine of self-control.

  THE MORE SATISFYING WAY

  During my conversation with Russell, I felt like all the research I’d done on self-control was coming together. I kicked off this book with the observation that a loss of self-control always results in a loss of freedom. Addicts serve as dramatic reminders of this principle. Many lose their freedom literally, like my brother locked up in prison. Even those who manage to dodge the authorities live under the tyranny of their chemical dependency.

  In chapter 3, I argued that it’s essential to understand our sinful nature and limited willpower. For some of us, that’s difficult to accept. We prefer to see ourselves as strong and essentially good. Addicts, on the other hand, have learned the reality of sin the hard way. The ones who’ve been through recovery know that admitting their weakness is a crucial first step toward finding freedom.

  The recovery process also highlights the importance of habits. Russell walks participants of LifeChange through the habit loop, teaching them how to recognize cues and change their routines. “The Holy Spirit gives self-control when we alter our old unproductive and less satisfying routines into new productive and more satisfying routines,” Russell told me. He also addressed the paradox at the heart of this book—that it in the end, self-control isn’t reliant on the self. “It’s not a self-help thing,” Russell said. “It is a fruit of the Spirit, so it’s not merely us controlling ourselves.”

  Having an ultimate purpose is integral to recovery as well. Virtually every addict on the road to recovery cites a bigger purpose for getting clean. It might be a child or spouse or their faith in God. The key is to identify something bigger than themselves that can inspire them to keep their resolution firm when in the valley of temptation. For Russell and the participants in LifeChange, God isn’t an optional add-on. God is central to the program’s success. “Ultimately it comes down to a decision,” Russell said. “Are you going to believe that the way of Jesus is more satisfying than the old way?”

  That’s a good question for all of us, addict or not. Are you going to believe that the way of Jesus is more satisfying than the old way? If you believe it—really believe it—you will start walking in that new way. You will resist temptation and cultivate holy habits. You will put your flesh to death by the power of God’s Spirit. You will fight the good fight. You will stay rooted in divine reality so the fruit of self-control can grow in your life.

  As you do, you’ll find new levels of joy and flourishing. Your life won’t be easy (in fact, at first it might be harder), but it will be deeper and more dynamic. It will be purposeful and productive. It will be holy, a life that blesses others and glorifies your Creator.

  Of course, Satan comes alongside you to whisper his lies. “Jesus’ way won’t really satisfy you,” he hisses. He trots out his shortcuts and promises instant pleasure and unlimited power. But by now you recognize the deception. You’ve seen it all before. You know he always gives you the best stuff up front—and makes you pay everything down the road.

  God, on the other hand, is more interested in your future self. He’s more concerned about you than your current level of comfort. He cares more about who you’re becoming than how you feel right now.

  And while the devil gives his best up front, God always saves the best for last.

  Self-Control Training: Entry #9—Full Court Press

  About a month passed without a run. I’d basically given up. Maybe running was the problem. I needed an exercise I enjoyed more. I’ve read plenty of experts say that the best way to get in shape is to find an activity you really love. Hiking, rollerblading, kite surfing, whiffle ball, underwater hockey—the specific sport isn’t important, as long as you enjoy it. If you enjoy doing it, the thinking goes, you’ll keep doing it. The best exercise regimen is the one you stick with.

  I like basketball, and I wasn’t bad at it. I played in high school and for one year of college. Of course, that was twenty years—and fifty pounds—ago. It had been eons since I played a game of full-court basketball. Thankfully our church had a weekly basketball night. My wife had been pestering me to go, but I always found some excuse. “I need to get in shape before I go do that,” I told her. It had never occurred to me that going out and playing with the guys might actually be the way to get in shape.

  So I decided to show up. I felt like I was going off to war. My hands trembled as I laced up my old high-tops. I knew the other guys who played weren’t exactly LeBron James, but they played regularly and I was completely out of shape. After warming up for a few minutes, we divided into teams and the game was on. I was shocked to see my first few shots go in, though I tried to mask my surprise.

  Then the second game started. A player on the opposing team pointed a finger in my direction and said something I chose to take as a compliment. “Guard the old guy, he can shoot.” Yes, I could shoot, but it turns out I couldn’t run. In that second game, my lungs started to burn, and my legs turned to rubber. Suddenly the twentysomething I was guarding was galloping past me for easy layups. I briefly considered faking an injury, but figured lying to fellow church members probably qualified as a sin, and a weird sin at that.

  When the game was over (which we lost), I informed the guys I had to go. But they wouldn’t have it. “C’mon, stay for one more game,” they said. One game turned into two and at the end of the night, I limped off the court exhausted. I was sore for a week.

  But the next Monday night, I was back. This time I arrived too late to warm up, which turned out to be a mistake. On the second play of the game, I drove into the key, did a perfect crossover, and felt a stabbing pain in my back. I crumpled to the floor like I’d taken a bullet. It turns out I’d pulled a muscle between my ribs. Injuries are nothing to be ashamed of, though there’s something slightly embarrassing about sustaining one when no one even touched you.

  That rib took a few weeks to heal, and by the time it did, I was a little gun-shy about going back. Plus, the basketball games were held only once a week, and it was a good half-hour drive for me to get there. I still wanted to play basketball, but I decided if I really wanted to get in shape, I’d have to get back to running.

  I started plodding around my block again, but this time I stumbled upon a routine that helped enforce my running regimen. Every day at 4:00 p.m. my son is dropped off at the bus stop a few blocks from our house. Since he’s in kindergarten, someone has to be there to pick him up. Usually my wife does it, but one day I volunteered. “I’ll just do my run and then pick him up,” I said. “I can work for an extra thirty minutes after.”

  That turned out to be the perfect “cue” to go for a run. Every day I know that I must be at that bus stop at 4:00 p.m. I might as well do my thirty-minute run at the same time. In fact, it turned out to be the perfect habit loop. There was a “cue” (having to go pick up my son), a routine (the run), and a reward (at the end I got to see my son!). To date I’ve logged sixty-eight runs.

  That doesn’t mean it’s easy. The first two weeks were awful. But I’m l
earning to fight through discomfort. Establishing good habits always feels difficult, even unnatural, at first. Breaking the inertia of your old ways of life takes effort and grit. But it gets easier as you go. After a while, I was surprised to find I was even looking forward to my run. I started to crave the “endorphin high” runners talk about. And I was losing weight and feeling more energetic. As with any new discipline, it starts with difficulty but ultimately leads to freedom.

  Conclusion

  Life under Control

  My Prayer for You

  Self-control isn’t the sexiest topic.”

  I must have repeated that line to dozens of people during the course of writing this book. I’m not sure why I felt the need to hedge on the subject. Maybe I worried it didn’t have enough excitement or sizzle.

  “What’s your book about?”

  “Self-control. I know, I know. Not the sexiest topic.”

  In one way, I was right. After all, people don’t write songs about self-control. It doesn’t grab headlines. It won’t spark controversy. In fact, when self-control is functioning properly, it helps people avoid scandal and embarrassment. It’s an invisible virtue, operating behind the scenes to sustain a healthy, holy life.

  And that’s why I was wrong to sell it short. Self-control is foundational. It leads to freedom and flourishing. Ultimately, it’s what allows a person to live a life that blesses others and glorifies God.

  I dedicated this book to my son. The reason is simple. When I think of the hopes and fears I have for his life, they all come back to self-control. I want him to grow in his walk with God. I want him to be respectful and kind. I want him to study hard in school. As he enters his teen years, I want him to avoid the entanglements of sexual sin and bad influences. I want him to overcome the inertia of laziness that besets many young men and work hard to establish a career. One day, I hope to see him become a faithful husband and devoted father. When he stumbles along the way (which he inevitably will), I want him to experience God’s forgiveness and start afresh. It will all take self-control. It will mean sidestepping a thousand temptations and distractions to pursue God’s purpose for his life. It will demand following hard after Jesus. It won’t be easy. But that’s my prayer for him.