EmilyG White is an addiction counselor who once filled a CamelBak with alcohol to walk to class, collected a nine-month sobriety chip while secretly drinking, and was eventually kicked out of rehab. She knew recovery language—and enough Christianity to look the part—but she was still trying to become presentable before coming fully to Jesus.

After more than a year in sober living, Em followed every instruction she had been given and still relapsed when a friend hurt her feelings. The program had given her tools, but it had not given her an unshakable anchor. At the end of herself, she walked into Watermark Community Church with drugs in her car and told a volunteer she needed a miracle.

What followed was not instant transformation. Christians listened without panicking, let her arrive broken, and kept showing up while the Holy Spirit worked. Then a parking-lot question—"What would it mean to go two feet in?"—became an act of life-changing, full surrender.

Em shares why recovery communities must make room for mess, how families can love without relying on a formula, and what it looks like to endure discomfort without escaping it. Seven and a half years into sobriety, she now helps others find the hope she once believed was impossible while serving as a licensed counselor at the Austin Stone.

Learn more about re:gen here
Em's counseling practice
Follow Em on Instagram: @em_whitey
Explore the FREE Veritas Recovery Community to connect with people on a similar journey
Get Gospel-centered addiction recovery resources and help at veritasrecovery.org
Follow Jon: @jonseidl
Order Jon's book: Confessions of a Christian Alcoholic
Watch this episode ad-free at The Vertias Daily

We explore: 

— Why alcohol felt necessary before it became deadly
— How a nine-month sobriety chip concealed a double life
— What Em’s relapse revealed about anchoring recovery in a program
— Why the church must be able to sit with people’s mess without panicking
— How families can establish boundaries without relying on a universal formula
— What “two feet in” surrender looked like in an Austin hotel parking lot
— How Em now experiences discomfort without needing to escape it