The Eight Out Of Ten

What’s even more sobering is this: every single person believes they will be the two.

No one walks in thinking, “I’ll probably be the one who doesn’t make it.” Everyone assumes they’re the exception. Everyone believes their situation is different, their willpower is stronger, their insight is clearer. And this is where the danger lies. The problem isn’t that people want to change — it’s that they believe they can change without fully confronting themselves.  

I don’t spend most of my time talking to the two out of ten who will make it. They’re already listening. They’re already honest. They’re already willing to do what’s uncomfortable. My concern is always the other eight — the ones who will quietly lie to themselves while nodding their heads, quoting examples, and pointing to others who “made it.” 

Here’s why I concentrate so intensely on the eight. Over time, I’ve learned that out of those eight, only a few will ever truly break through — and almost always through hard pain and unavoidable consequences. Usually, maybe two of that eight eventually get their lives together, not because they planned to, but because reality finally caught up with them. Life collapses.  Consequences stack up. Everything they trusted fails. And somewhere in that wreckage, truth finally gets their attention. But the sobering reality is this: six out of ten will not get it at all. They will rationalize, adapt, and survive just enough to keep avoiding change. That’s why I speak to the eight. The two who will make it early don’t need convincing — they’re already listening. And the two who come later only arrive after hell hits hard enough to strip away every lie they were protecting.  

People often say, “Well, I’ve seen so-and-so do it. He went through the same thing and came out fine.” What they don’t realize is that those stories are almost always misunderstood. The ones who make it are not the exception because they beat the system — they’re the exception because they submitted to it. They didn’t shortcut the process. They didn’t negotiate terms.  They didn’t protect their pride. They allowed themselves to be broken where they needed to be broken.  

Everyone wants to beat the odds, but life doesn’t work that way. Addiction doesn’t work that way. Sin doesn’t work that way. Dysfunction doesn’t work that way. The odds don’t change just because someone believes they’re special. In fact, the belief that “I’ll be different” is often the very thing that keeps someone from doing what’s required to actually be different.  

This is why I don’t lead with reassurance. I don’t tell people, “You’ll be fine.” I don’t tell them, “You’ll get through this.” I address reality. I talk to the eight out of ten — the ones who assume they’re okay while still protecting the very patterns that are destroying them. Because self-deception is far more dangerous than failure. Failure can wake a person up. Self-deception puts them to sleep.  

Scripture is painfully clear about this: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9). The problem isn’t the addiction, the habit, or the behavior — it’s the refusal to see oneself truthfully. Jesus didn’t say the truth would comfort us; He said it would set us free (John 8:32). Freedom comes only after honesty.  

The two out of ten who make it share one thing in common: they stop arguing with reality. They stop defending themselves. They stop assuming they’re the exception. They accept that left to themselves, they won’t make it — and that humility becomes the doorway to change.  “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). Grace doesn’t flow toward confidence; it flows toward surrender.  

The tragedy is that many of the eight out of ten don’t fail loudly. They fail slowly. They drift. They justify. They compare. They survive just enough to convince themselves they’re okay, until years pass and nothing has changed. And by then, the lie has become their truth.  

This isn’t about statistics. It’s about honesty. And the hard truth is this: until someone is willing to admit they are not the exception, they will almost certainly become the rule.  

Hope is real. Change is possible. But it only belongs to those who are willing to stop lying to themselves — even when the truth hurts.  

And that’s why I speak to the eight out of ten.  

Because sometimes, one honest confrontation is the only thing that gives someone a chance to become the two.