IN THE MARGINS: Are you addicted?

By Tony Martin
Editor

First, a big shoutout to Shane Pruitt! Shane serves as the National Next Gen Director for the North American Mission Board (NAMB). He and his wife, Kasi reside in Texas, with their five children. He has been in ministry for over 20 years as a church planter, lead pastor, and student pastor. Shane is also a traveling communicator, evangelist, and Bible teacher. And he’s a big friend of Mississippi Baptists. Recently, he called out some addictions we should be aware of. It was thought provoking, and today I’m riffing on his list.

Shane’s thoughts listed “subtle addictions” that can quietly wreck your life: addicted to gossip, addicted to drama, addicted to being the victim, addicted to being offended, addicted to negativity. It hit me because none of those sound as shocking as drugs or alcohol — but they can be just as destructive to your joy and your relationships.

The tricky thing about these habits is that they rarely feel like addictions. They feel like “processing,” or “venting,” or “being real.” They feel justified. They even feel kind of normal, because so many people around us live this way. But slowly, they eat away at our peace, our trust in others, and our witness.

Let’s walk through each one — not to heap shame on anybody, but to shine a gentle light so we can notice where this might be slipping into our own hearts.

1. Addicted to Gossip

Gossip rarely introduces itself as, “Hey, I’m sin.” It usually shows up as concern: “I just want you to pray for so-and-so,” followed by details that were never ours to share. Or it comes as entertainment: screenshots, “Did you hear…?”, coffee conversations that nibble at someone’s reputation.

The danger? Gossip trains our hearts to feed on someone else’s weakness instead of God’s grace. It shrinks our compassion. It also quietly tells the people listening, “If I’ll talk about them, I’ll talk about you.” Over time, trust dies.

A good filter is simple: Would I say this the same way if they were standing beside me? If not, it probably needs to stay off my tongue.

2. Addicted to Drama

Some of us don’t know who we are without a crisis. If things are calm, we stir the pot. We read tone into texts. We assume motives. We escalate small misunderstandings into full-blown episodes.

Drama is exhausting, but it’s also weirdly energizing. It gives us something to talk about, something to rally people around, something to feel important about. That “high” can become addictive.

The problem is that drama keeps us from real growth. It distracts us from the quiet, steady work God wants to do in us. It also wears out the people who truly love us.

3. Addicted to Being the Victim

Real wounds are real. Some of you have walked through things you never deserved, and I won’t minimize that for a second. But sometimes we slide from having been hurt into needing to be hurt to explain everything.

When my identity becomes “the one who’s been wronged,” I lose sight of my identity as deeply loved, fully seen, completely held by God. Victim-thinking tells me, “Nothing can change until they change.” The gospel says, “God can work in you even if they never change.”

Staying stuck in victimhood feels safe because it requires nothing new from us — but it also quietly chains us to the past.

4. Addicted to Being Offended

We live in a time where outrage is a sport. If someone breathes differently than we prefer, we’re ready to cancel, clap back, or cut them off. Being constantly offended lets us feel morally superior, but it keeps our hearts small.

When I’m addicted to being offended, I’m always scanning for what’s wrong, never for what God might be doing. I lose my sense of humor. I lose my tenderness. I forget that I, too, am a work in progress.

Scripture doesn’t say, “Blessed are the easily offended.” It says, “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).

5. Addicted to Negativity

Some people walk into a room and you feel lighter. Others walk in and you feel like someone dimmed the lights. Chronic negativity is more than honesty about hard things — it’s a reflex to expect the worst, point out the worst, and rehearse the worst.

Negativity slowly poisons hope. It makes faith feel naïve, gratitude feel fake, and joy feel impossible. And if we’re honest, it pushes people away — not because they don’t love us, but because they’re tired of drowning.

Here’s the good news: these addictions are beatable. Not by gritting our teeth and trying harder for one day, but by making a different choice — over and over — with God’s help.

Let me offer a few simple shifts:

• Practice the “blessing test.” Before you share, ask: Will this build up or tear down? If it wounds, withhold it or turn it into prayer instead of gossip.
• Choose peace over performance. Not every text needs a novel. Not every look needs analysis. When in doubt, assume the best.
• Tell the truth about your story — but don’t live chained to it. You can say, “This hurt me,” and also say, “I’m letting God rewrite the ending.”
• Delay your outrage. When something offends you, pause. Breathe. Ask, Is this worth losing connection over? Often, the answer is no.
• Hunt for hope. Each day, name three specific graces — tiny ones count. Gratitude doesn’t deny reality; it invites God into it.

If you read this and recognize yourself in one (or several) of these, please hear this: you are not a hopeless case. You are not “too much” or “too broken.” These patterns are loud, but they are not your identity. They’re just habits that have been rehearsed — and by grace, different habits can be learned.

Maybe today is your line in the sand.

Ask God, “Show me where I’ve gotten hooked on these things. Help me want freedom more than I want the rush.” Then take one small, concrete step: hold back one piece of gossip, let one offense go, speak one word of encouragement instead of complaint.

It won’t be perfect. But over time, those small choices will reclaim your joy — and just might heal some relationships along the way.