Owning My Five Percent

Sometimes the issue isn’t what I said. It’s the impression I left. Recovery is teaching me to own my influence.

Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord. Lamentations 3:40

Recently I was accused of saying something I never said. An employee told my boss that I said they would lose their job if they didn’t come in. I did not say that. I know I didn’t. I have been in management long enough to know what you can and cannot say. My standard response when someone calls off sick is simple and safe. It is the same for everyone. I do not threaten. I do not pressure. So, when my boss approached me with that accusation, my first reaction was anger. I felt misrepresented. I got defensive. I rehearsed the conversation in my head. I started building my case. Before recovery, I would have dug my heels in and proved I was right. I would have made sure everyone knew I never said those words.

My sponsor taught me to pause and do a specific inventory when something was bothering me. I stopped building my defense and started asking honest questions. “Did I really say that?” “Did I give that impression?” Maybe not just of what I literally said, but of what I communicated. That is a very different question. I am in a position of authority. I am tall. I have a strong presence. I speak directly. I carry myself with confidence. Add to that, this is someone who is already sick. Maybe they are feeling guilty. Worried about their job. Maybe already feeling insecure just making the call. Although I may not have threatened anything, could my tone, my phrasing, my energy, combined with the situation, have created pressure even if I never intended it? That question changed my perspective. I stopped being defensive and humbled myself. Instead of confronting them to prove I was innocent, I chose to look at my part and see if I had given that impression.

I am learning in recovery that my intention does not erase the effect of my actions. I am not responsible for what someone assumes or fears, but I am responsible for the impression I cause. Even if my part is five percent, I have to own that five percent fully, one hundred percent. That is what amends really looks like for me. I am not referring to taking blame for things I did not do or allowing myself to be manipulated into guilt. Instead, I am honestly examining how my position, presence, and delivery affect others. Before recovery, being right was what mattered the most. I would never even consider it possible that I could passively affect other people this way. Today, taking responsibility for my part matters more to me than protecting my image. I do not have to be right to feel safe.

It is in humbling myself and taking an inventory of my influence instead of defending my intentions that I know I am practicing my recovery. That is taking responsibility. This is how recovery is helping me build people up instead of unknowingly pressing them down. By focusing on fixing me and me only, no one else, I am seeing my relationships grow stronger, more personal, and more real. That is what it is all about anyway. Relationships. With God, with myself and with others. This is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, give me the courage to examine my actions and influence so that I can see my part clearly. Give me the humility to own my part fully. Help me let go of the need to be right. Help me practice my recovery in all of my relationships. Amen.

Powerless, Not Helpless

Acceptance and Responsible Action

Getting older can stir up resentment we don’t expect. Here’s what happened when I worked a Fourth Step on it.

My grace is enough for you. When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you. 2 Corinthians 12:9

Lately I have been more aware of my body. I do not have the same stamina I once had. I get tired easier. It takes longer to recover. I get sick sometimes when I seldom did before. As I get older, my body does not always cooperate with my mind the way it used to. That affects how much I can work, how much I can play, and even how I view myself as a man. I noticed something stirring underneath the surface. It began as uneasiness that would not go away. Then it turned into frustration and comparison. I would see other men my age still pushing hard, and I felt it. The old fear of not being good enough.

My sponsor taught me that when something is bothering me, I need to write about it. Thoughts become clear when they pass through our lips and fingertips. That is Fourth Step work. So I wrote about it. I asked myself why I was feeling not good enough and what I was afraid of. It didn’t take long for me to realize I was not just resentful of getting older as much as I was resentful of getting weaker. And I was afraid I would not be able to continue living the life that I was accustomed to. I was grieving the part of me who could push longer and produce more. When I dug deeper, I saw something I did not want to admit. I was angry at God. I was embarrassed to see that on paper. Aging is a natural process. I am not a victim. My life is not over. Yet I was blaming Him for something that simply is what it is.

As odd as it may sound, admitting that brought relief. God already knew what I was thinking. But my admittance was about being honest with myself. Aging exposes a new kind of powerlessness. I cannot control time, and I cannot stop my body from changing. When I resist that reality, resentment can build. When I accept it, that pressure releases. Acceptance does not mean fading away into weakness. It means making wise adjustments. I require more sleep now, so I go to bed earlier. I eat healthier so I have more energy. I exercise so my body can build endurance and strength. I keep my brain engaged and my mind active, looking for things that require mental effort. I stay connected in my relationships.

Working the Steps helps me move from embarrassment to acceptance, and from acceptance to action. I am powerless over aging, but I am not helpless. I still have choices that affect my stamina, my health, and my outlook. My goals have not disappeared. They have shifted. Because of my relationship with God, I can be honest with Him and with myself. I am not fading away. I am not stagnant. I am adjusting. I am progressing and growing in my recovery. It keeps me mentally and emotionally healthy. The decisions I make will help my body be as healthy as it can be. I can face this season with confidence instead of resentment. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You that I can be honest with You about my fears and frustrations. Help me accept what I cannot control and take wise action where I can. Keep my heart free from resentment and steady in Your grace. Teach me to adjust wisely and trust that Your strength is enough for me. Amen.

Yes and No

Finding Balance

In recovery I learned that fear-based no and guilt-based yes are both extremes. Healthy boundaries mean saying what I truly mean.

Let your Yes be Yes, and your No, No. Matthew 5:37

Before recovery I said no to everything. No was my first response. I was a no person. I did not open myself up to invitations. I did not try new things. I stayed guarded. In recovery I began to say yes, but before that, no was how I survived. Why did I say no all the time? I took an honest inventory, and I saw it again. That old character flaw. Not being good enough. I was afraid that if I said yes or opened myself up to an invitation, I would be rejected. And why would I purposely subject myself to that? Growing up in an alcoholic home, I developed survival traits. Those traits kept me safe. But they also kept everyone out. I couldn’t trust anyone. I did not take things at face value. I did not give others the benefit of the doubt. I assumed I would be hurt or let down if I did. So I said no. And I only said yes when I was in control. That was the vicious cycle I lived in. And I never even considered there was another way.

In recovery I began to say yes. Yes to invitations. Yes to new people. Yes to new experiences. Yes to meetings. Yes to service work. Yes to life. And when I started saying yes, I experienced things I had never experienced before. I made new friends. I went new places. I was becoming a different person and I liked it. I began to identify my emotions and appreciate them. Saying yes was good for me. It helped me grow. It helped me soar even. But then I started learning about boundaries. And I realized that as much as I needed to say yes, there were times I needed to say no as well. In recovery, I am learning that I don’t have to stay in either extreme.

It was such an odd paradigm shift and paradox. Before recovery I never said yes. Always no. But in recovery I began saying yes every time, even when I meant no. I said yes when I meant no because I felt guilty and afraid. I liked my new life. I liked how I was growing. I did not want to regress back to my old life. And so I overcorrected. I went from fear-based no to guilt-based yes. I was confused and tired.

I am grateful for my friends in recovery and my sponsor who helped me stay centered and grounded. They taught me that yes and no are both healthy boundaries. Neither is good or bad in itself. Accepting invitations and new adventures is exciting and invigorating. Saying no kept me safe, but it did not lead to growth or learning anything new. Saying no out of fear left me stagnant and alone. Saying yes out of guilt left me exhausted and resentful. Working through the Steps is teaching me balance. I am learning to say yes when I mean yes and to say no when I mean no. When I do, I am able to live a well-rounded life without guilt and fear.

Prayer

Father, help me say yes when I mean yes and no when I mean no. Take away the fear and guilt of my past. Teach me how to consistently practice balance in my recovery. Thank You for helping me. Amen.

The Root of It

The Real Issue

The addiction was visible. The character flaws were underneath. Real change began at the root.

Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it spring the issues of life. Proverbs 4:23

When I first walked through the doors of recovery, I thought I was coming to save my marriage. That was my focus. I was convinced that if things could just change at home, everything would settle down. But by following the suggestion to keep coming back, I began to see something I wasn’t expecting. The problem wasn’t just my marriage. It was me. At the core of my reason for coming were my character flaws. I was wounded and emotionally hurt in ways I had ignored for years, and that pain seeped into every area of my life, causing conflict and hostility in all of my relationships. Once I saw that I needed to work on fixing me instead of everyone else, something shifted. I started to deal with my pain. My issues. My flaws.

Like most of us, I didn’t seek help until something was clearly out of control in my life. Addiction was the obvious problem. It was visible. It was measurable. It was causing damage I could no longer deny. Sometimes others had pointed it out before, but I never listened, even though deep down I knew they were right. I came looking for help in the area that was causing the most pain. But after I had been in recovery for a while, I started to see what had been driving it all along. The addiction was not the root. It was the symptom. The real trouble had been living inside me for years. My people pleasing. My anger. My insecurity. My need to control outcomes. If I did not deal with those things, I would just trade one problem for another. I would stay stuck. The bad news is that I have character flaws. I was a people pleaser. I struggled with control and manipulation. I carried latent anger. At first, I did not recognize any of this. In my heart I wanted to live my life fully committed to God, but ignoring these issues kept me from doing that.

As I continued in recovery, I started to see this wasn’t just my story. The outward problem may look different for each of us, but what sits underneath is often familiar. Addiction may be what is visible, but it rarely begins there. The behaviors show up on the outside, but the roots usually run much deeper, in the character flaws we all carry.

I had to acknowledge these flaws in my own life and offer them to God. No more blaming. No more pretending. I started with the issue causing the most pain, and then I began facing the smaller areas He revealed to me. It wasn’t instant, and it wasn’t easy, but it was honest. The change didn’t come from trying harder. It came from surrender. As I stayed willing and kept bringing these parts of myself to Him, something began to shift inside me. I did my part. He did His. And as He began changing me from the inside out, I found that I could finally live my life fully committed to God, not just in words, but in the way I actually lived. And that has brought me peace and happiness that remains to this day.

Prayer

Father, show me what is underneath. Help me stop blaming and start surrendering. Give me the courage to face my flaws and trust You to change me from the inside out. Amen.

Breaking the Spiral

From Spinning to Stepping

When I start spinning in fear, the next right step breaks the spiral.

Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You. Psalm 56:3

I have an online store and recently someone wanted to return an item that they were not happy with. So I approved the return fully intent on giving a refund. But after I got the notification that the item arrived, I did not open the package from the mail. I did not go on and issue the refund. Then I noticed I had received other new orders, and I did not even look at those orders because I did not want to look at the refund. I have three orders that need to be shipped out, but I have not done them for several days. Now I’m stuck thinking that it’s too late. I can’t do it now because I didn’t do it in the beginning. That thinking brings up an old familiar feeling I had often before recovery. If I didn’t deal with something in the moment, when it happened, I believed I could never come back and correct it or make it right. I was stuck on stupid.

I don’t know why I did that. And it bothered me. Why am I so stubborn? Why do I procrastinate and put things off? Even when things are not difficult, somehow when I get it stuck in my mind that I don’t want to do it, I will not change my mind. I know that is old behavior, and I can see it is just another form of control manifesting. I know that sometimes I avoid doing something, even something innocuous, because of the fear of something bad or unpleasant being revealed. I don’t ever want bad news, and so I find I will avoid anything that could potentially reveal it, even if the thing itself is not bad news. I have enough recovery to know I need to pray and ask God for help and also to write about it. If that doesn’t work, then I call my sponsor.

So, that is exactly what I did and here’s what I found out. I began with questions. I asked myself, why am I not filling the new orders? What am I afraid of? I realized I am afraid that because I haven’t shipped the order yet, the person may cancel it. I am afraid that I may not have all of the items in stock and the order would need to be canceled anyway. I probably do have the items in stock, but for whatever reason I haven’t even looked. I’m afraid that if I go look, they won’t be there. Then I asked myself, why is that affecting me? If I have to cancel the order, I have to give another refund. That is money I don’t want to give out. It’s only about $80, but because money is tight right now, it makes me feel embarrassed that I don’t make more money on my job. I don’t make more money as a person or as a man. And then I feel like I am not good enough. It’s the same thing I always discover whenever I write. I have a part and it’s usually tied to me feeling less than. I’m reminded of a saying I’ve heard before… I can’t think my way into better action, but I could act my way into better thinking.

Once I realized that it was my issue, I prayed and gave it over to God. Then I put legs to my prayers. I opened my online store, issued the refund, processed the new orders and shipped them out. It was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. Immediately the anxiety lifted and I felt lighter. It may not seem like a big deal, but when I get stuck spinning in my head, it’s really hard to break that cycle. Working the steps of recovery and using the tools I have learned helped me break free from that spiral. I’m very grateful for that. That is the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer

Father, help me trust You and take the next right step when I start spinning. Thank You for the freedom that comes when I seek You first and then take action. Amen.

Not An A-La-Carte Recovery

There Are No Shortcuts to Surrender

Recovery works when I stop trying to customize my own program and start trusting His path.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take. Proverbs 3:5–6

Recovery is not an a-la-carte program.
In meetings, I have often heard, “Take what you like and leave the rest,” or the saying about being as smart as an old cow, eating the hay and spitting out the sticks. Those sayings are helpful when it comes to personalities and opinions, but they were never meant to apply to the Twelve Steps themselves. I do not get to pick which steps or principles I will follow and which ones I will ignore. If I want the freedom and healing recovery promises, I have to follow the program the way it was designed, not the shortcut version I create to fit what I think is best. My best thinking will most often gravitate to something that doesn’t challenge me or require me to change.

When I start choosing how I will work my own recovery, instead of the one encouraged by my sponsor, I start to get squirrelly. My feelings start running my life. I may convince myself that it is wisdom, but it is really just another form of control. I learned early on that successful recovery stands on three pillars. These are simple, but non-negotiable practices: working the steps with a sponsor, attending meetings regularly, and serving others. And yes, that means a human sponsor and meetings plural. Together they create the structure that helps me remain honest and continue to grow.

I might attend meetings but avoid doing step work. I might try to do step work without meetings. I might tell myself that God is my sponsor, so I do not have to be accountable to anyone else. I might skip steps, rush through them, or rearrange them to suit my preferences. Each time I do this, I am quietly saying that I know better than those who walked this path before me. That kind of pride produces limited results, slow growth, and repeated cycles or even relapse. I end up repeating the same mistakes and being forced to learn the same lessons because I refuse to walk the proven path that works. The one that has stood the test of time.

I have learned that recovery without God leaves me empty, and faith without practicing the steps leaves me unchanged. Real recovery happens when I invite God into every part of the process and use the tools He has already provided. Surrender is not just believing in God, it is trusting Him enough to follow the full solution. It is giving in and humbling myself not just to God but to the pillars of recovery. I cannot do it “My Way”. I did that before recovery. I need to do it His Way. To humble myself, accept the recovery solution and act on it. When I stop trying to force recovery based on my own understanding and stop managing the process, I can finally experience the freedom I was looking for, and the healing the program promises.

Reflection
Where am I still trying to control my recovery instead of fully surrendering to the program?

That’s A Good Question

Why Don’t I Answer It?

When I stop using a question to justify my resentment and start using it to search for truth, healing becomes possible.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts. Psalm 139:23

I was recently sharing in a meeting about how I used to be resentful toward my mom. When my dad passed away, I went to bury him and settle his estate. While I was there, I found out the real reason he and my mom had divorced. She had cheated on him. My dad caught her in front of our house while the three of us kids were inside. My sister was eight, my brother was six, and I was two. Learning that years later really hurt me. I was angry. Deeply resentful. For a few years after that, I barely spoke to my mom. I wondered, what kind of person does that?

Several years later I was sharing this story with a therapist. All those emotions were still there. Hurt. Anger. Confusion. I felt pressure building inside me as I talked about it. Not knowing what to do with it, I blurted out, “What kind of person does that?” I assumed it was rhetorical. I thought it would release some of that pressure and we would move on. Maybe he would even agree with me. Instead he looked at me and said, “That’s a great question. I think you should answer it.” That infuriated me. I didn’t want an answer. I wanted comfort and agreement. I could not believe I was paying someone good money to tell me to answer a question that was clearly rhetorical.

Later that evening, I told my sponsor about it. I said, can you believe that? What kind of therapist tells you to answer that question? I expected him to agree with me. Instead he looked at me warmly with what I would call stern compassion and said, “That is a good question. I think you should write about it and answer it.” I got mad at him too. Was he even listening to me? I thought he did not understand. But I wanted to get better. So I went home and wrote about it.

It was hard to write because all those emotions came flooding back all at once. Anger. Hurt. Sadness. That I’m not good enough feeling. Rejection. Abandonment. As I wrote, I kept coming back to the same question. Why would my mom do this to me? What kind of person does that? I prayed and asked God to help me see. And slowly the answer started forming. She was an alcoholic. She was an addict. She was doing what addicts do. She was thinking about her addiction, not about me. I was collateral damage. She was not doing it to me. She was just doing it, and I got hurt. That realization did not excuse what happened. But it did change something in me. I began to feel compassion where there had only been resentment. I was able to gradually process what had felt so overwhelming. That day I learned that answering the hard questions is not easy, but it is definitely worth it. Facing the ones I didn’t want to, instead of avoiding them, became the doorway to freedom. If I am willing to sit with them, God will meet me there.

Prayer
Father, help me face the hard questions I would rather avoid. Give me the courage to answer them honestly. Help me recognize resentment and surrender it to You. Thank You for the healing and freedom You provide when I give the hurts of my past to You. Amen.

My Crazy Thinking

My thoughts lied to me again… and God met me with truth, not shame.

He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and reveal the motives of people’s hearts. 1 Corinthians 4:5

Last week at work a couple people requested vacation time, and I felt that little resentful reaction start to rise up in me. I want vacation too. It’s one of the benefits of my job, and it grows every year, which I really appreciate. My sponsor always reminds me to ask myself, “What’s my part?” and when I finally stopped to ask myself that, my thinking started to shift. I moved from “Why don’t I ever get vacation?” to “Why don’t I ever ask for it?” That was the moment I had to get honest with myself. I’m not a victim here. I’m the one who never asks for time off. I rarely request vacation unless it’s for an appointment or some obligation. So I used an old recovery tool and did a 4th step inventory on it. I sat and really thought about it. I prayed and asked God to show me. And I asked myself why I don’t ever ask to take the vacation time I’m given.

At first I only came up with the easy surface answers. Do I have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility? No. That’s just pride pretending to be responsibility. Do I think I’m more important than I really am? Maybe. Then I stopped and asked myself, what am I actually feeling? I started noticing ideas like “What would they do if I wasn’t here?” or “Who is going to fix the problems that come up?” And that’s when fear showed up. I thought, “What if something needs to be done and I’m not there to do it?” I had convinced myself that my boss would be disappointed in me. Then the real fear hit me: “If they don’t need me, someone else could do my job. They might realize they don’t need me at all.” It brings up the old feelings that I’m replaceable, not wanted, and unloved. Underneath it all was the same familiar fear of rejection and fear of abandonment, pointing me right back to that old belief that I’m not good enough. It’s crazy thinking, I know, but don’t think at me like that. Step 2 says you’re insane too.

I’m grateful for recovery tools that help me slow down and notice when old thought patterns or uncomfortable feelings start to surface. I remind myself to ask questions like “What button is being pushed?” and “Which character defect is showing up?” After I answer these questions, I usually identify what’s going on and then deal with it. When I own that this is my issue, not anyone else’s, I begin to shift my perspective. The truth is the company survived many years before I got there, and it would survive without me there. As important as I like to think I am, they would figure it out. Once I saw that fear sat underneath the resentment, it became easier to surrender it to God and let it go. Then I made a decision to do the next right thing: ask for vacation and trust God with the outcome. And guess what? My request was granted, and I rested on my vacation without worrying about work or what might fall apart without me there to fix it. And I felt a solid peace inside because I know I handled it in a healthy way.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for showing me what was hidden under my resentment. Thank You for bringing the real motives of my heart into the light so I could see what I was afraid to face. Help me keep noticing the fears that try to run my thinking. Help me stay honest, willing, and surrendered. Give me the courage to take healthy steps, trust You with the outcome, and rest in the peace You give. Amen.

Owing an Amends

Making Things Right

Recovery didn’t take away my first instinct. It gave me a choice about what to do after it shows up.

Whoever hides their sins will not be successful, but whoever confesses their sins and stops doing wrong will receive mercy. Proverbs 28:13

I owed an amends to my wife. That’s never fun. All joking intended. In one of my recent writings, I attributed a line to a well known speaker that my wife has been saying to me for years. I honestly believed I had heard it from that speaker. My wife had told me more than once that it was her thought, but I assumed she had picked it up from the same source and just personalized it. When I used the quote publicly and credited someone else, I undervalued her. She asked me why I didn’t give her the credit.

That question stirred something in me. My addiction to being right kicked in. My need for control showed up fast. My first instinct was still to prove myself right. I decided to look it up and find out where the quote came from. What I found surprised me. There was no original source. No author. No famous speaker who came up with it. It wasn’t a quote at all. It was original. My wife had come up with it. I hadn’t just misattributed a line. I hadn’t believed her. That hurt her. But I didn’t stay there. When I found out the truth, I didn’t ignore it or hide from it. I didn’t pretend I hadn’t seen it. I had to face it and own it.

That meant I needed to make amends. I started by admitting I was wrong. I told my wife the truth about what I did and why I didn’t credit her. I came clean and owned my part fully. That wasn’t easy. The other part of the amends was correcting it publicly. So here goes. In a recent devotion I wrote called “A Decision, Followed by a Process,” that line came from my beautiful wife, Danielle. I did in fact hear a speaker talk about it and use that line. That speaker was my wife. I also went back and corrected the original post to give my wife credit for the quote. Before recovery, I would have defended myself. I would have continued to prove I was right. I would have avoided the apology and completely skipped the correction. Today, I get to be honest with myself, with my wife, and with you. I still have much work to do. I’m not finished. God isn’t finished with me either. This is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
God, help me be honest when my instinct is to defend myself. Show me my part and give me the courage to own it. Help me make things right when I get it wrong. I’m still learning. Thank You for staying with me as I do. Amen.

New Instincts

Interrupting What Feels Automatic

Sometimes change starts with noticing what I do without thinking.

Create in me a pure heart, God, and make my spirit right again. Psalm 51:10

This morning, while I was getting dressed, I decided to practice something I read in the Just for Today bookmark. It said, “Just for today I will do two things I don’t want to do, just for practice.” So, as I was putting on my shoes, I decided to do something different. I am a sock sock shoe shoe person. I have always been. But today I shook things up. I did sock shoe sock shoe. It felt very, very weird. It was uncomfortable. I didn’t like it. It just felt wrong, even though it really didn’t matter at all. It was a safe place to try out a new behavior. Putting on my shoes and socks is so mundane and routine, I don’t even think about it. I couldn’t even remember consciously doing it most times. But somehow, doing sock shoe sock shoe suddenly captured my full attention.

That simple act in that moment got me thinking about my instincts. How I automatically do things every day without even thinking about them. They are so routine, so familiar, that I barely notice them. Most of the time, I could not even tell you when or how I do them. So many of my behaviors have become part of who I am simply because I have done them over and over again. Some of those instincts today are healthy. Praying and asking God for help. Writing about my concerns. Pausing before reacting. Being honest with myself. I do not always know when those instincts were formed. I just know they are there now. But I also see how many instincts I lived by before recovery that were not healthy at all. Defending myself. Withdrawing. Controlling.

I thought to myself, this is how it is in recovery. This is why doing step work with my sponsor matters so much for me. When I slow down, get honest with myself, and ask God to show me my motives, He does. He shows me where my instincts came from and what they were trying to protect. That is when change becomes possible. Instincts are not just habits. Habits are what I do. Instincts are why I do them. Recovery is teaching me how to interrupt unhealthy instincts and practice new ones until they become natural. I am learning that my instincts are not permanent. By practicing the principles of recovery and seeking God’s help, my old automatic behaviors and instincts are changed into new ones. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
God, help me to slow down and notice what I instinctively do and why. Give me the courage to change and show me how to practice new healthy habits. I thank You for Your faithfulness to help me. Amen.

A Decision Followed By A Process

Forming New Habits

What God started in me needed action to take root.

Be made new in your hearts and in your thinking. Be that new person who was made to be like God, truly good and pleasing to him. Ephesians 4:23-24

I was reflecting on something I heard my wife say when she was sharing at a meeting. Recovery starts with a decision, but it is followed by a process. As I thought about that, I began to see how clearly it applied to my life. God set me free and delivered me from my addiction, but my behaviors did not automatically change overnight. Those behaviors had become habits, and habits do not disappear just because I had a spiritual awakening. The freedom was real, but I wanted it to be lasting. The process is what makes it stick. The decision is the planting, but doing the work is what allows it to take root. I am learning that lasting change requires a process I stay engaged with, not just a single moment I look back on.

I am realizing that renewing my mind is not a one time event. It is ongoing. It is daily. As I change how I think about situations, people, and myself, my reactions begin to change too. When I look back at times I struggled in my recovery, I can see a clear pattern. I had stepped away from the process. I was free from the substance and the behavior, but my thinking stayed the same. Without renewed thinking, old behaviors find their way back.

Working through the Twelve Steps is the process that proves the decision I made is real and has taken effect. It is the process God uses to renew my mind. The Steps gave me a way to live out that renewal in real life. Step by step, with my sponsor, I began to see myself more honestly. I took inventory of both my strengths and my defects. I faced where I had harmed others and where I was still holding onto resentment. I learned to offer forgiveness and to make amends. As I took those actions, my thinking began to change and continued to stay changed. New thoughts led to new responses, and new responses led to new habits. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
God, thank You for setting me free. Help me to always stay willing to renew my thinking each day, so that my actions continue to change and I can be the person You want me to be. I do not want to live in the past. I want to live out what You are doing in me today. Amen.

No Defense Needed

Peace doesn’t come from proving my point.

A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Proverbs 15:1

The other day I had a growth opportunity at work. A man came in agitated and aggressive with our front staff. They told me he had been rude to them and asked me to step in. When I approached him and listened, he seemed to realize he had overreacted and apologized to me. I thanked him, but I told him it would mean more if he apologized to the people he had been rude to. He did. Later that same day, he came back while I was helping another client and interrupted me asking for help. I calmly said to him, sir please have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.

When he finished his transaction and was about to leave, he asked to speak with me. When I walked over, he told me he felt I had been rude to him when I told him to sit down and relax. His version of the interaction included a tone and words that were much different than what I remembered using. I listened to him. I resisted the familiar urge to explain myself, to clarify, to defend my intent. Instead, I looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I apologize for being rude.” He thanked me and left.

Here is the gift of recovery for me. I did not defend myself. I did not explain or justify. Even though his version was much different than mine, the possibility existed that I could have come across as rude. So I owned it and made amends. It felt good. I noticed the peace that followed. Not long ago, I would have focused on the facts and proven my point. This time, the facts mattered less than being accountable for my part. By practicing the principles of recovery, I am learning how to live with peace and respond like a grown up.

Prayer
God, help me to stop defending myself. Show me my part, even when I want to explain or be right. Help me own my part and make it right when I mess up. I want peace more than proof. Amen.

It’s the Hard That Makes It Great

We can’t become tired of doing good. At the right time we will harvest a crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Galatians 6:9

I was watching the movie A League of Their Own. There is a scene that hit me hard. It’s when Dottie is ready to walk away and quit. She tells Jimmy, “It just got too hard.” The pressure, the sacrifice, and the pain finally were too much. Jimmy responds, “It is supposed to be hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it. It is the hard that makes it great.”

I was thinking how that line represents my life in recovery. Working the steps is not easy. Facing the past is painful. Surrendering control feels scary. Admitting my weakness and making amends are humbling. If my own past efforts would have worked, I would not have stayed stuck in addiction for so long. The principles of recovery ask me to face the very things I spent years avoiding, and that is exactly why it’s so hard.

I’m learning recovery is about surrender and honesty. To admit I’m powerless, to face the truth about my life, make amends, and turn my will and life over to God daily. This work is not just about being clean only, it’s about transformation. None of that comes naturally to me. It requires humility. It requires trusting God in places where I used to rely on myself, often through control, pride, or escape. When I feel weak, I am reminded that I am not doing this in my own strength. God meets me in the hard places and gives me what I need for today.

When step work feels exhausting or too hard and I think of quitting, I call my sponsor. Like that coach in the movie, he encourages me that this work doesn’t just feel or seem hard, it indeed is hard. If this was easy work everyone would do it. If I keep on going and do not quit when things get hard, I will experience the promises of recovery in my life. Peace, freedom, happiness, contentment, and connection all start to show up, and that is what makes recovery great.

Prayer
God, let me feel Your strength when things get hard. Help me to keep on going. I don’t always feel strong or hopeful, but I don’t want to give up. Help me keep doing the work even when I don’t feel like it. Give me courage to keep going. Amen.

I’m Sorry – A Familiar Way Out

Sometimes ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t about guilt. It’s about discomfort.

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Romans 12:15

I was standing there listening to someone share about something that was bothering them. I had heard them share these same concerns before. As they talked, I noticed my attention drifting, and I realized I didn’t know how to be in that moment. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t know how I could help. I felt unsettled, even though I couldn’t identify it at the time. So I defaulted to something instinctive, something that felt familiar and safe. I said, “I’m sorry,” and I walked away.

Later, the person told me they felt dismissed by my actions. That didn’t sit well with me. In fact, it bothered me a great deal because I care deeply for this person. I didn’t intend to brush them off, but my intention didn’t excuse my actions. What mattered was what I did and how it landed with them. That’s what stayed with me. I couldn’t shake it. So I decided to honestly write about the moment. I was looking for my part. Why did I apologize when I hadn’t actually done anything wrong? Why did leaving feel easier than staying? As I wrote, I began to see how often I say “I’m sorry” in moments like this, moments where I feel unsure, awkward, or powerless.

What became clear was that I wasn’t apologizing out of guilt. I was feeling uncomfortable. I felt powerless to fix their situation or offer any real resolution. There was no solution to point to, no action to take, and I felt helpless. Growing up in alcoholism, discomfort like that usually meant it was time to do something, fix something, or simply get out of the way. “I’m sorry” became my default way to ease that tension and remove myself from it, even when the tension wasn’t actually mine to carry.

Writing about it helped me see something I hadn’t noticed before. I say “I’m sorry” a lot, especially when I feel powerless. When someone brings me a problem I can’t solve, my instinct is to ease the tension and escape the discomfort. “I’m sorry” becomes my exit. Just a way out. What I discovered in my writing was that walking away in that moment wasn’t about dismissing the other person. It was an automatic response to regulate my own discomfort. That honest realization was unsettling. And for me, that kind of honesty with myself is usually where real growth begins.

I have learned that awareness is only part of my recovery journey. Accepting that I behave this way moves me out of denial. But where I find healing and change is when I can respond differently to this new awareness. This is where I struggle the most. My plan is to pray and ask God to help me next time I am in a similar situation, to give me patience and courage and to help me find a new default. Maybe something as simple as just staying present and being quiet.

Prayer
God, help me see when I am avoiding my true feelings. Show me my part, and help me stay honest with what I see. Help me to not just notice my shortcomings, but change how I respond. Teach me how to slow down and be present without needing to fix anything. Amen.

The Look

Catching Pride in Real Time

What irritates me often reveals more about me than them.

Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment. Romans 12:3

I was driving to work the other day. I was cruising along with the cruise control on. Everything was fine. Then someone cut right in front of me into my lane, going about fifteen miles slower than I was. They did not ease in. They cut me off and I had to slam on my brakes so I would not hit them. I put my blinker on, went around them, and as I passed, I looked over and gave them “the look.”

After I passed them, I realized that I had just mean mugged the driver. I felt that familiar nudge from God to look inward. A self-examination moment. Why did I look at them? What was I hoping to accomplish with that look? I already got around them. I was no longer in danger. So what was that about? As I reflected on it for a few minutes, the honest answer was uncomfortable. I wanted them to feel small. I wanted them to know they were wrong. And when I stayed with that thought process a bit longer, I had to admit something deeper. In that moment, I thought I was better than them. I wanted to correct them. I was upset that I wasn’t in control over their driving. I wasn’t just irritated. I thought my time mattered more than theirs. Like I was entitled to the road. That’s an exaggerated sense of self-importance. Pride. A familiar character defect for me. That realization was hard to accept initially, but it was true.

Before recovery, I would not have even seen this. I most likely would have escalated it. I might have given “the look” and added a one-handed sign language to go with it, you know what I mean.

I have learned tools that help me. Like a spot check inventory. To ask myself why I do what I do in the moment. So that maybe next time I will be able to make a different choice. For today I will celebrate my progress and be thankful that I didn’t escalate things. And even more grateful that I was able to be aware of my behavior on my own without anyone else telling me. I’m glad that by seeking God’s will, He brings things like this to my attention. I am grateful that I am able to apply Step 10 to my daily life. To pause, look inward, and be honest with myself much sooner. Doing that helps me to let it go instead of carrying it with me all day.

Reflection
Where in my day do small reactions reveal something bigger going on inside me?