The Gift of Sobriety
Dear Diary,
I recently celebrated my 2-year sober-versary on August 21st, 2025 🎉, and I thought this was the perfect time to share some reflections with you.
The topic of alcohol is one that often sparks lengthy debates among Christians. Questions arise about whether Christians should drink, if getting drunk is a sin, and even the appropriateness of being around drunkenness. These are valid discussions to have, especially considering that Jesus' first miracle involved Him turning water into wine at the wedding feast in Cana. Nkirote Mutisya has broken down this debate effectively in her "Should Christians Drink Alcohol" series, available on her YouTube channel. She has shared what the Word says on the matter and her thoughts on it. I encourage you to watch the series to glean a few valuable insights, study the scriptures, and make an informed decision for yourself. My aim for this entry is not to convince you to lead a sober life, but to share my perspective on the matter and give you insight into what the journey has looked like for me.
I do believe that some people are called to a sober life, and I am one of them. During the pastors' discussion on Proclaiming the Kingdom at The Gathering UK, the pastors had an interesting conversation about consecration and its meaning. Simply put, consecration means that while others can, I cannot, and that's been the case for me when it comes to alcohol.
I grew up in a family that loves to party! We truly embraced what it means to eat life with the biggest spoon. Naturally, alcohol was always present during family gatherings and in our home. The positive side of this environment was that when I finally decided to drink, I had family members who showed me how to do it responsibly. My uncles had a tradition of teaching you how to drink once you turned 18; they would buy you top-shelf liquor and guide you through the experience. Their philosophy was that you shouldn't embarrass them by not knowing how to handle your alcohol. We were fortunate to start as fairly experienced drinkers, thanks to their guidance, and they were always willing to fund our alcohol purchases and nights out. This was a broke university student's dream.
However, there was a negative side to this upbringing; alcoholism runs in my family. Both my paternal and maternal sides have struggled with it. Having witnessed the negative effects of alcohol growing up, I made a conscious decision not to drink. It wasn't until I was two months shy of my 21st birthday, in February of 2017, that I decided to have my first drink while on an exchange program in Dar es Salaam. My drink of choice was Konyagi.
For context, Konyagi is a clear spirit distilled in Tanzania. I would liken it to Moonshine. Often nicknamed "The Spirit of the Nation." Konyagi is known for its super affordable price, also referred to as being cheap, its quick intoxication, and hangovers that bite harder than the drink itself. My first drinking experience was quite contrary to what the majority of my cousins had experienced. When I returned from my exchange trip, I was welcomed into the fold with open arms. I won't lie, for those six and a half years, I had the best drinking buddies; I had really fun night outs with some unforgettable memories. I got to experience alcohol firsthand for myself, which allowed me to make an informed decision when it was finally time to quit. Fast forward to August 20th, 2023, and I had my last drink.
I wasn't an alcoholic, I didn't struggle with self-control, but I had experienced my fair share of bender nights. Nights where I would wake up in the morning and have gaps in my memory or wake up with such deep regret for what I had done, and in turn had to nurse the worst hangover, and this never-ending shame. I deeply loathed this feeling. In June of that same year, I transitioned from my most unhealthiest relationship. After having a few more bender nights, I decided that things needed to be different, and I needed to allow myself to heal differently. What started as a 21-day fast quickly became my new way of life. Although I didn't plan for it to become this way, God clearly did. I would like to preface by saying that during the years that I did drink, I had occasionally gone on breaks for different reasons. My longest break was three months, so I knew that another fast wouldn't be too hard. I also started drinking when I was much older and would occasionally find myself in a mother hen role, so I had nights when I would curtail my drinking to take care of my people. This time, however, when I got to the 21-day mark, for some reason, I decided to keep going. I was back in therapy, and during this time, my therapist had shared that it takes 90 days to change a habit in relation to something different we were working through, so I decided to challenge myself to keep going. I downloaded the I AM SOBER app and would use the milestones as markers of my progress and motivation for my next goal. 90 days came and the feeling of not waking up with a hangover, memory gaps, and not having to deal with shame and regret was unmatched, so I kept on going. At this point, my bank account was also thanking me, since I wasn't swiping on $15 cocktails. I had a really expensive throat, so my drinks would cost me a pretty penny. It wasn't until I reached the nine-month mark that I received a revelation on why this needed to be my new lifestyle.
In a Girls Gone Bible podcast episode on The Spirit Realm, Stephanie Ike shared a profound teaching on generational traumas and curses. In her teaching, she shared that things not dealt with in one generation have the legal right and dominion to be transferred to the next by virtue of not being dealt with. Having known that alcoholism was something that ran in my family, especially in the men, I knew that I had the responsibility to make sure that for my generation, it ended with me. It wouldn't be fair for my children to inherit something I was meant to curtail. I'm sure we've all heard the saying that it ran in my family until it ran into me. With this new resolve, I set out on a mission to break this cycle of trauma. Alcoholism was not just a bad habit in my family; it was a curse, a deep-rooted thread of pain that had woven itself through generations. I was determined to change the narrative and forge a new path for myself and those who would follow me. I could see how it had stolen potential, fractured numerous relationships, and numbed wounds that were never healed. I began to understand and delve into the relationship that I had with alcohol, allowing myself to really reflect on why I drank or when I felt the urge to drink. I had to ask myself the hard questions of what I was running away from; what pain, brokenness, and trauma was I using alcohol to numb and hide.
But a mission without a purpose is unsustainable. Since I didn't have a self-control problem, I still felt like I was missing out on a much bigger picture. And God in His mercy allowed me to go deeper. During the same Gathering UK discussion, Pastor Sola shared why he doesn't drink, explaining that as a minister with a prophetic calling over his life, he needed a direct line to heaven, and alcohol would get in the way of that. I resonated with his statement so deeply because God had recently revealed that I had a prophetic calling over my life and on my ministry (stay tuned for a diary entry on this 😉). With this, God reminded me of the words spoken over my life, the prophecies that marked me for ministry. He showed me that I wasn't just called to break a curse; I was being set apart, and my life was consecrated for more. The calling I carry requires me to be clear, sober-minded, and constantly tuned into His voice. Let's face it, it's hard to do that when you're intoxicated or nursing a hangover. If I were called to be His mouthpiece, I could not carry His words if I were clouded. How can I be in constant communion with the Spirit if something else is numbing my Spirit? Sobriety ceased to be just about my family history; it had now become a part of my destiny. I realized that a mission might come first in awareness, but purpose is what sustains you. My mission gave me something to fight against, and my purpose gave me something to live for.
2 years down the line, and it's truly one of the best decisions I have ever made. So here are a few lessons I have learned along the way:
1. When God consecrates you for something, He makes what others would find hard easy for you. With you, you operate from what Dr. Dharius Daniels calls the Principle of Exception. The Bible says in 1 Peter 2:9 that "you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light." That means your walk won't look like everyone else's. What others can indulge in without thought, you may have to lay down. What others see as normal, God may require you to leave behind.
And yet, it isn't a burden; it's grace. Because when He sets you apart, He also gives you the strength to walk in it. He gives you joy where others see sacrifice, clarity where others see restriction, and peace where others see loss. That's the beauty of consecration; it's not about what you can't have, but about what you've been chosen for.
2. Invite God into the process; you really can't quit an addiction without His strength. The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness." That means even when your willpower fails, His Spirit can and will carry you. Sobriety then becomes less about relying on your own strength and more about surrendering your heart.
It's a true measure of surrender, laying down what your flesh craves so that your Spirit can live. Every time you choose clarity over numbness, you're practicing the art of dying to self and rising in Him. And the beautiful thing is, you're not doing it alone. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is the same power that strengthens you.
3. Your community will change, and that's okay. When I first stepped into sobriety, it happened to align with a season of isolation God was already leading me through. At the time, I didn't realize it was a training session. In this quiet place, I learned how to stand firm and strengthen the muscle of saying "no" before I ever had to face outside pressure. Later, when I reintegrated into the community, I had to be intentional about who surrounded me. I sought people who would not only support my choice but also respect it. My circle has never pressured me to drink, and the few who did quickly revealed themselves as people I couldn't carry forward.
The Bible says in Amos 3:3, "Do two walk together unless they have agreed to do so?" I couldn't keep walking closely with people whose values pulled me away from my calling. And Proverbs 13:20 reminds us, "Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm." Sobriety demanded that I choose wisely, and in doing so, God blessed me with people who honor my journey.
Over time, I've found a healthy balance: my people live their lives, I live mine, and we coexist without compromise. Sobriety taught me that boundaries aren't walls, they're gates. They keep out what harms you but let in what sustains you. And the right community will never ask you to betray your calling for the sake of belonging.
4. This one was a surprising lesson: your body will almost always look for a new addiction or coping mechanism, especially if you've used alcohol as a suppressant. When I first began this journey, my relationship with God wasn't as strong as it is now, so the things I had been running away from still demanded an escape. Alcohol was gone, but the pain and trauma remained, and my body looked for another outlet.
For me, it showed up as candy. I've always had a sweet tooth, but suddenly I was reaching for sugar far more than I ever had before. It wasn't until I went on a fast that I realized what was happening. Candy had become my new suppressant, a way to quiet emotions I didn't want to face. During that fast, God gave me the wisdom to see it clearly, and He began to teach me healthier ways to cope with it.
Since then, I've noticed the cycle: sometimes it's candy, other times doom-scrolling on social media, or binge-watching shows. Different faces, pointing to the same root. The Bible says in Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." I've learned that numbing my emotions doesn't lead to healing; only God can truly heal us. Now, instead of trying to cover up my pain, I take a moment to stop and reflect. I ask myself: Am I trying to suppress this feeling, or am I allowing myself to experience and work through it with God?
Reading The Garden Within by Dr. Anita Phillips really helped me with this. It reminded me that emotions aren't meant to be suppressed, but to be processed. They are northern stars pointing us back to places that need healing. When God invites you to those tender places, He doesn't do it from a place of judgment but love. He sits with you in your pain, reminding you that "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3. In His presence, what once looked like a burial site becomes a planting ground. What once felt like weakness becomes a doorway to intimacy with Him through which He teaches you how to let Him use your emotions as tools for healing.
5. Find alternatives that work for you. One thing I’ve learned along the way is that finding alternatives that work for you is beneficial. There are so many options out there now: alcohol-free cocktails, de-alcoholized wines, and even spirit alternatives. They’ve allowed me to enjoy the taste I once loved, but without the alcohol. If you’re in Kenya, you can find an array of options at Zero Sips, a non-alcoholic bottle shop that specializes in curating a selection of non-alcoholic beverages. If you’re in the U.S., my go-to options are NoliQ, a Kenyan-owned alcohol-free cocktail brand, and Almave, Lewis Hamilton’s non-alcoholic Tequila.
That said, I want to share this with caution: many of these drinks taste very similar to the real thing. If you’re early in your sobriety journey or you struggled deeply with alcoholism, this can be a slippery slope and even a trigger. De-alcoholized wine, for example, isn’t completely alcohol-free; it just contains a very small amount. So my encouragement is this: don’t rush it. Explore these alternatives only when you feel strong and steady in your walk. For me, they’ve become a way to still be part of celebrations without compromising the lifestyle God has called me to.
As I write this two years into this journey, I can say without hesitation that sobriety has been one of the greatest gifts of my life. My body is healthier, my mind is clearer, and my spirit is more sensitive to God’s voice. I wake up without shame weighing me down, and I walk through my days with peace and a sense of purpose. What once felt like a loss has revealed itself to be a gain of freedom, a gain of clarity, and a deeper intimacy with God.
If you’re reading this and God has been nudging your heart to lay something down, I want you to know this: He never asks us to release what He doesn’t intend to replace with something greater. Trust Him. Surrender it. Let Him write a new story for you. Because on the other side of surrender, there is always freedom.
From my heart to yours,
Love Nandi.
