A Different Approach

Peace Instead of Pressure

I used to go home and replay everything. This time, I had peace.

If you do what is right, you will be accepted. But if you do not do what is right, sin is ready to attack you. That sin wants to control you, but you must control it. Genesis 4:7

I coach my daughter’s softball team. I have coached my kids’ teams for several years, so I’m not new to this. But I saw something different in me during our last game. We lost the game, but our team played well and we actually had a chance to win. We just made some mistakes. What does this have to do with recovery?

What I noticed is my attitude was different in that game. I’m very competitive. I play hard, I coach hard. I try to win every time. All the time. And in that game, I did not feel any of that pressure. I felt something different. I just enjoyed being in that moment. In the past, I would’ve been very frustrated during the game. I would’ve gone home and spent hours spinning in my mind, thinking about all the things we could’ve done differently and what we could’ve done better. When I got home that night, instead I was at peace. I was happy. I had fun. Yeah, we lost the game, but it was still fun. I was able to have fun and be proud of our team and how they played and performed regardless of the scoreboard. It was a close game. I think we could’ve won. But that didn’t matter. I was really proud of the girls and I noticed that’s all I was thinking about. That was such a different approach for me, even from last year when the other coaches commented that I was intense. But I didn’t feel intense that night, not at all.

I’m confident that the change in my feelings and behavior is a direct result of the work I’ve been doing in my recovery. I’ve been spending more time journaling and doing step work. Focusing on my behaviors. Attending regular meetings. Practicing the third step prayer. Setting aside time for my writing. I’ve been trying not to improve anyone else, but myself, specifically my spiritual life and my connection with God. That’s what’s made the difference. And that’s the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection
What can I do today to put myself in a position to see change in my life?

Put Down the Magnifying Lens

Pick Up The Mirror

When I put down the magnifying lens and picked up the mirror, things started to change.

If we honestly examine and evaluate ourselves then we will not be judged and punished. 1 Corinthians 11:31

One of the biggest aha moments I have had since starting recovery is seeing how the Bible talks so much about recovery. It may use different terminology, but it is absolutely recovery principles. Not surprising to me, as I have since learned that the 12 Steps were based on the Bible and are outlined in order in the beatitudes. Now I see recovery everywhere in the Bible, like this verse here. It tells me that if I look at and evaluate myself honestly and judge myself, I will not have to be judged and punished. I got hung up on the word judge in this verse until I looked it up and saw that it means if I examine myself and change, I will not be condemned. This is talking about doing an honest moral inventory, changing behaviors, and making amends. That sounds a lot like recovery just in different language. But it’s the same principle.

Too many times I used to judge others instead of myself. I was looking at what others had done to me and not at what I had done to them. I would look at myself and try to see what I had done, but I would dismiss my actions and behaviors because I had good intentions. I meant well. So I would justify my actions instead of looking at how I could change them. Good intentions did not excuse my actions or dismiss my bad behavior. That sounds a whole lot like denial to me. I once heard someone say, Once I put down the magnifying lens and picked up the mirror, my life got a lot better.

In my Christian life I’ve heard many teachings about the idea of actions versus intentions. I would walk away thinking that when I see others’ actions, I should consider their intentions and offer them grace and understanding. I see now that I missed the underlying point. The axiom is: why do I judge others by their actions while I judge myself by my intentions? I would pose a new thought process: don’t let my intentions justify my actions. Instead, let me look at my actions strictly as my actions in spite of my intentions. When I keep the focus on me and look at how I can better myself in these situations, I can always see that I have a part. My part may be anywhere from 1% to 100%, but I definitely have a part. And that’s the part I have to deal with.

Reflection

Where can I look in the mirror instead of through the magnifying lens?

A Better Father Than Me

Through My Children

The way I love my children helped me understand how God loves me.

If you, imperfect as you are, know how to lovingly take care of your children and give them what’s best, how much more ready is your heavenly Father to give wonderful gifts to those who ask him. Matthew 7:11

Sometimes I struggle with the concept of a loving, caring God. It’s hard for me to believe that God would care for me regardless of, or even in spite of, the things I do. That He would love and accept me for who I am. I start to ask myself why. Why would God have compassion for me? Why would He be there? Why would He help me? Why would He even want to? And honestly, it’s held me back in my life. I want to believe it, but I never saw it modeled in my life, so I don’t even know what it would look like.

I was pondering this today and I started thinking about my children and how I would do anything for them within my power. If there was anything they needed or wanted, I would do whatever I could to make it happen. If they’re in trouble or something’s bothering them, I want to know, because I care about them. I love them. And if there’s anything I can do to help or ease their pain, I would do it. That’s when the aha moment hit. God cares for me the same way. After reflecting on that, I realized the fact that I even have that comparison to think about parenthood and God came from God to help me and give me perspective. He is so good.

When I started to put that into perspective, I realized God is probably a better parent than I am. So if I have those feelings toward my children, and I would do anything within my power to help them, to love them, to care for them, to accept them, even if they were mad at me or even if they refused, I would still be willing and available. Why wouldn’t God be the same toward me? My obvious conclusion is He would, and probably even more so. What I’ve found is I am my worst critic. I am hard on myself. I judge myself. I consider myself not worthy. But when I look at my children, I realize there is nothing they could ever do that would cause me not to love them or care for them. Nothing. That allows me to be more gentle with myself. It helps me accept that God will never reject me, that He loves me, that He cares for me, and that He’s always there willing to help me. That matters because it gives me confidence to ask Him for help, knowing He’s there when I do. That’s part of the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection
What would change if I actually believed God cares for me the way I care for my children?

I Cannot Tell His Story

Peace Through Perspective

I can’t tell his story. But I can change mine.

Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7

What I knew about my dad was that he was a master sergeant in the Marines. He trained paratroopers. He was injured on a jump when one of the lines sliced him, leaving a scar across his abdomen. Although he never identified himself as an alcoholic, I know he drank a lot, and when he drank, he got drunk. And when he was drunk, he was often mean and violent. That’s what I experienced growing up. There were times when he wasn’t like that. But there were many times when he was. He was estranged from his biological children, and I believe he carried resentment from that into our home. For most of my life, that’s the story I told myself about him.

As I’ve gone through recovery, I’ve started to see how much of that experience shaped me. He demanded things be done right. Not just done, but done perfectly. I remember washing his diesel truck and missing a few spots on the grill. He inspected my work and instead of having me fix that one area, I had to wash the entire rig again. Hours of work, over something small. The same thing happened with mowing the lawn. It had to be cross cut, then diagonal cut. It had to be done a certain way, and if it wasn’t right, I had to start over. That mindset stayed with me. I learned to strive for perfection. I learned that getting it wrong meant starting over. And while that shows up today in doing things well, it also shows up as pressure and an impossible standard I can’t always meet. I have learned those were unrealistic expectations.

After I got into recovery and started working through the steps my sponsor pointed out something I didn’t want to see or admit. He said that I seemed to have a hatred for my dad. I denied it. I was a Christian and I didn’t have hate in my heart for anybody. But as I worked through the steps, I found that there was hatred in my heart for him. My sponsor suggested I do a fourth step just on my dad. So I did. It was a very long fourth step. It took me months.

In doing that, I realized something that changed everything for me. I cannot tell my dad’s story. Outside of what I experienced, I knew very little about him. That helped me begin to see him as a person instead of a monster. I’m not excusing what he did. But when I started to understand there was more to him than what I saw, I began to develop compassion for him. I just wish I had come to that place before he passed.

Recovery has given me a way to make amends to him even though he’s no longer here. I make a living amends by changing how I live. By letting go of the resentment. By choosing to see the good in him and not defining him by his struggle with alcohol. By accepting him as my dad, the man who raised me. Most of my life I called him my stepdad. I kept that distance. Today, I call him my dad. I love him for who he was, not what I wished him to be. And there is a peace in that I can’t fully explain. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, help me to be honest about what’s in my heart. Give me the courage and strength to let go of the resentments and pain I’ve carried, and help me offer forgiveness instead. Thank You for the healing and peace that comes with that. Amen.

What’s Really Bothering Me

Looking At My Part

When I stop and ask why I’m really upset, the answer usually has nothing to do with the other person.

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

Someone called off work on a really busy day. We were already short staffed coming off a weekend, and there was a lot going on. They didn’t say why, they just called off. I asked if they were sick and didn’t get a response. That frustrated me. And not just a little. It got under my skin. I felt myself getting angry. My mind started going right away. This is exactly the kind of thing that throws everything off. Now everyone else has to pick up the slack. Service slows down. People wait longer. It affects the whole team, the business, and our reputation. And in that moment, it felt like none of that mattered to them. And I start judging them. I start thinking, I would never do that. I would show up. I would push through. I would do what needs to be done. Why can’t other people do the same? That’s where my mind went.

I have learned in recovery that when I get worked up like that, I need to write about it. So I did. It has become my first go to. As I began writing, I was exploring my frustration and anger. Then I asked why. Why does this bother me so much? As I sat with those thoughts and got honest with myself, something else started to emerge. This wasn’t really about someone calling off work. This was about what gets set off inside me. I was upset because of how it made me look. Don’t they know how much time, energy and effort I have put into restoring our reputation? Don’t they know the sacrifices I have made here? My sponsor told me a long time ago, when I am angry ask myself what am I afraid of. Because those two are so closely connected and tied together. That is when I saw it. I was afraid of how this would reflect on me. My core issue was being hit. I was feeling like I am not good enough again.

So this whole rant about being frustrated over an employee calling off is really about me feeling like I am not good enough. I have found that every time I am upset, that feeling shows up. And it’s always about me. When I saw it this time, I actually chuckled and laughed out loud. That’s a different response than I used to have. Instead of staying frustrated, I kept the focus on me and why I was upset. I can’t control anyone else. Just me. The situation didn’t change. They still called off. We’re still short staffed. But I’m not carrying it around with me anymore. I can step back. I can breathe. I can let go of trying to control everyone else. I come back to me and focus on my part. That’s where I find peace now. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection
What am I afraid of right now?

My Wife Is A Gift

God Speaks Through Others

Many times God speaks to me through the people closest to me. I just have to be willing to listen.

He who finds a wife finds a good thing, And obtains favor from the Lord. Proverbs 18:22

I’ve had many meaningful conversations with my wife over the years, and something I’ve come to appreciate is how much I value her. She’s truly a gift from God in my life. I can see why God said that it is not good for man to be alone. He needs a wife, a partner. God’s plan was that together we are one, and on our own we’re incomplete. I get a lot of inspiration from her. Many of my ideas come from our conversations. She’s full of wisdom, and a lot of times she sees things differently than I do. She’ll say something simple, just a passing comment, and it will stick with me. It will make me stop and look at something from a completely different perspective.

Some of the biggest “aha” moments I’ve had in my life have come from our conversations. There have been times where I can honestly say God was speaking to me through her, and she didn’t even realize it. Part of that is her wisdom and life experience. She has also been in recovery for many years. Although we attend different programs, she is one of my most trusted accountability partners. But part of it is me being willing to hear it. Being willing to slow down. Not interrupt. Not defend. Not try to prove I’m right. But actually listen and consider something outside of my own thinking.

That’s something recovery has changed in me. I would have never done that before. I lived in my own head, in my own opinions, and I wasn’t open to anything that challenged that, even though I thought I was. I wasn’t. Today I can see things as they are. I may not have the answers when things come up, but I am no longer in denial, running from my problems. I’m learning to slow down and listen. I’m learning to be humble and receive. Most of the time, the way God speaks to me isn’t through something spectacular, but through a simple ordinary conversation with the person right in front of me. Usually my wife. But being open-minded that way allows me to listen to anyone that God brings into my life to speak to me. That’s the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father God, help me to slow down and really listen. Show me when You are speaking through the people in my life. Teach me to be humble enough to receive it. Thank You for the people You’ve placed around me. Amen.

Keep On Going

Most of the time I don’t succeed at first… and that’s where growth begins.

Even if good people fall seven times, they will get back up. But when trouble strikes the wicked, that’s the end of them. Proverbs 24:16

I am finding that I am aware of things now that I never was before. I used to be closed off to anything I didn’t already have a position on. If I had already made up my mind, that was it. In recovery, something has shifted. I’ve become more open and willing to look at things differently. Things like… I could be wrong, or I could be the problem, or someone else could be right. I didn’t get that on my own. That came from my sponsor asking me, Can you consider that the possibility exists that they could be right? I didn’t agree, but I did honor our relationship and gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was right. Ironic. That was a huge change for me. That didn’t exist in my thinking before.

But I’m also learning that awareness alone doesn’t automatically produce change. Just because I see something now doesn’t mean I instantly live it out. It doesn’t happen like that. It is a process. It takes effort. It takes practice. It takes time. That dreaded four letter word that I’ve come to dislike so much. There are times when I have a clear aha moment, and then I go right back and miss it in real life. I don’t always get it right the first time. In the past, that would have been enough for me to give up and quit. I would get discouraged, throw up my hands and say, I’m done! This stuff doesn’t work. But today I know better. I’ve seen enough change in my life so far to know that this does work. I just have to stay with it and keep moving forward. Like that saying, three steps forward and one step back… except now it’s followed by three more steps forward.

I’ve had to let go of the idea that I’m supposed to get it right the first time. I’ve learned that’s called an unrealistic expectation. I’m not perfect, and I don’t need to be. The truth is I cannot be, even though I may desire it. I just need to keep moving. When I do, I continue to grow. I am also learning how to accept my progress instead of demanding perfection. And that is changing things for me. Starting with how I treat myself when I miss it, and then how I treat others. I’m not beating myself up the way I used to when I make mistakes. I go back, I learn from them, and I try again. Even when I don’t see the change as fast as I would like or others might expect. Awareness is where it starts. That breaks me out of denial. But then I need to take action. That is where the real work happens. For me, change takes time, and I usually don’t succeed at first. I rarely see the desired change immediately or even soon after. Instead, it happens over time through trial and error. And with continuance and perseverance, the change begins to take root. I no longer beat myself up for all the mistakes I make along the way, nor do I demand perfection from myself. That is something I am practicing every day. And for me, that means continuing to walk it out, in each situation, one day at a time. Not striving to be perfect… but staying in it long enough for the change to actually take root. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for showing me things I couldn’t see before. Help me to keep going even when I don’t get it right. Give me the strength to get back up and try again. Amen.

Safe, But Stuck

Sometimes what feels safe is what’s keeping me from growing.

The wind blows wherever it wants. You hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it is going. It is the same with everyone born of the Spirit. John 3:8

The other day, my wife asked me to do something for her, but it wasn’t part of my normal routine or schedule. I did it, but I noticed it bothered me. Later, I mentioned it to her. She works a recovery program too, so she asked me a simple question, Why did it bother you? I didn’t really know. I just felt it. So I did what recovery has taught me to do. I wrote about it. I started asking myself why it bothered me. And then another question came… why do I have so many routines in the first place?

My life is built around routines. I wake up at the same time, do my devotional at the same time, write at the same time, go to work, take lunch, come home, write again, and go to bed. Even my meetings fall on the same days each week. Structure has become a big part of how I live. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I started noticing something. When one of those routines gets disrupted, even a little, I get frustrated. My emotions come out sideways. I start to feel off. And I found myself asking… why does that bother me so much?

So I wrote about two questions. Why do I have so many routines? And why does it bother me so much when they change? What I came up with was an answer I didn’t like and didn’t want to hear. But recovery has taught me that if I want to grow, I have to be honest. What I saw was this… I use routines to help me feel safe. Structure helps me feel like I’m in control. I know what’s coming and what to expect. I can avoid putting myself in a situation where I can get hurt. What I also saw was that was the little boy in me trying to protect himself and survive. It made sense at one time in my life. But I’m not that child anymore. I’m not living in that chaos anymore. And I also saw it was keeping me from experiencing real life and the joys of spontaneity. That went much deeper.

In all of this, I see that structure itself isn’t the problem, but what I’m relying on is what matters. When everything is planned out and it’s running the way I expect, I don’t need anything or anyone else. It even shuts God out. I have no control over Him. I realized I was depending on myself. My routines kept me as my own higher power. And that’s something I didn’t see before. I’m learning that real recovery isn’t about controlling everything around me. It’s about learning to accept things in life as they are and adapt to them. It is letting other people into my life, as unpredictable as they may be. And it means relying on God, my higher power, even when things don’t go the way I plan. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
God, help me to let go of the desire to control everything. Teach me how to respond when things don’t go the way I expect. Show me how to trust You to keep me safe. Amen.

Connection Over Control

I didn’t realize how much I was trying to control connection… until I saw it in my dog.

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him… Psalm 37:7

This morning, I had another lesson from my dog. She’s a golden retriever and has the sweetest temperament. Every morning, I sit in my La-Z-Boy chair with my coffee and finish up my writing from the night before. In that quiet stillness, I lean back, put the footrest up, grab my laptop, and start typing. Like clockwork, within about thirty minutes, she walks in and sits right in front of me. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t make a sound. She just sits there and waits. When I’m done writing, I put the laptop down, drop the footrest, and call her over. I already know what she wants.

I reach down and pet her, love on her, hug her, pray over her, speak blessings over her, and tell her I love her. And when I’m done, she just walks away into the other room. What she wanted was connection. She wanted to be touched. She knew exactly what she wanted. And she let that need be known without demanding it. She showed up, sat there, and waited patiently for me to respond. God spoke to me through that. The lesson I got from that was simple and equally profound. She didn’t force anything. She didn’t act out. She simply made her need known, and then she trusted enough to wait for it. She trusted me to meet her need.

It made me stop and look at myself. Do I trust God that way with my needs? Do I just show up and patiently wait for His goodness? How many times do I not even let my needs be known? Or when I do, I come across demanding or frustrated instead of honest and vulnerable. How often am I unwilling to wait for what I want or need? Do I revert to old behaviors and shut down or try to force outcomes?

But today I saw something different. It was a simple object lesson for me. There’s a way to be honest about what I need without pressure, without control, and without fear. What I realized is… I want connection too. But a lot of times I’m either afraid to ask for it, or I try to force it on my terms and my timeline. And when it doesn’t come the way I expect, I miss it completely. I am seeing that it’s not about controlling how it comes. It’s about really being honest, showing up, and trusting God enough to receive it however and whenever it comes. That’s what I’m learning in recovery. Just being real about what I need, letting go of control, and trusting God with the timing.

Prayer
Father, help me to be honest about what I need. Teach me not to hide it or try to force it. Show me how to trust You and be patient with Your timing. Help me receive what You give, the way You give it. Thank You. Amen.

Why Am I Still Sitting Here?

I didn’t realize staying the same was actually a decision…

Why are we sitting here until we die? 2 Kings 7:3

I was thinking about this story from the Bible. And that question that the four lepers were deliberating hit me hard today. They said, why are we just going to sit here until we die? They had to do something different. Their reasoning was simple. If we sit here, we die from starvation. If we go into the city, we may die there too. If we go toward the enemy, they might kill us. But they also might not. Either way, sitting still guaranteed the outcome. That statement stuck with me. There are areas in my life where I’m spinning my wheels, doing the same thing and getting the same result. In recovery, they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. If I want something different, I have to do something different. And I’m learning how closely thinking and action are tied together. So I started asking myself… why don’t I try something different? Could it be I’m afraid? The fear of the unknown is real.

Growing up in the family disease of alcoholism, I wasn’t taught a lot of the basic things most normal people seem to just know. Instead, I learned how to survive, not how to live. So I stayed stuck in defense mechanisms that worked when I was a kid. They kept me safe back then. But they followed me into adulthood, and now they keep me stuck. I did the best I could with what I knew. But recovery has given me new options. Better ones. The challenge is, it’s still up to me to use them. Where I get stuck is this. My best thinking is what got me here. The same thinking that helped me survive is also what keeps me stuck. I’ve tried to think my way out of it, and I end up right back in the same place. The truth is, I’m not going to think my way out of this on my own. I need help.

That’s what Step Five reminds me when it says admit to God, myself, and another human being. Honestly, that’s the hardest part for me. It always has been. I don’t want to let people in. That opens the door to being hurt again. But that’s exactly where change starts. I have to humble myself and be willing to be vulnerable. I have to say what’s really going on with me, not what sounds good, but what’s true. That’s why having a sponsor matters. That’s why recovery partners matter. They can see what I can’t see. They help me step outside of my own thinking long enough to try something different. Sometimes it’s not complicated. It’s just a small shift. A different response. A different action. But I wouldn’t get there on my own. And that gives me peace. Not because everything is fixed, but because I’m not stuck in it by myself anymore. The solutions don’t always show up right away, and they’re not always easy. But I’m not sitting still anymore either. That’s where I need God. Not to do it for me, but to guide me and help me take the next step instead of sitting still and staying stuck.

Reflection

Where in my life am I sitting still, even though I know I need to take a different step?

Feelings Follow Actions

Take The Next Step

Change didn’t start when I felt better. It started after I acted.

For we walk by faith, not by sight. 2 Corinthians 5:7

For most of my life I built a wall so I would not have to feel my feelings. I did not want to deal with those unpleasant emotions that made me feel so uncomfortable. I had learned how to shut things down and keep on moving. But when I came into recovery, and once I started working the steps, that door opened. And like a floodgate being released, all of those feelings and emotions I had been holding back for years suddenly started coming out. I was trying to feel them and experience them, but I did not know how. I didn’t know what to do with them. And many times they were confusing too, because they would intermingle and come at the same time. I remember a moment when I received some great amazing news and some horribly bad news within about 30 minutes of each other. My wife and I had just found out we were pregnant after several years of trying. We were elated and so happy. It was wonderful. And then a little later, I received a call that my dad had passed away. I was sad and angry. And then confused. Life and death all in less than an hour’s time. I felt happy and angry and sad all at the same time. I called my sponsor to get some help. He simply said, “Those are and feelings.” I began to realize that it was good that I was no longer running from my feelings. I was finally experiencing my emotions and acknowledging that they were real. But I also started to see how much of a roller coaster life becomes if I allow my emotions to become the determining factor for everything I do.

I’ve heard it said many times in the rooms of recovery, and I have found it to be true in my own life, that you can’t think your way into better behavior, but you can act your way into better thinking. And over time I began to see that the same thing is true with feelings. I cannot feel my way into better behavior, but I can act my way into better feelings. When I let my emotions dictate my actions, my life becomes unstable and reactive. I start making decisions based on how I feel in the moment, and that usually doesn’t lead me anywhere good. But when I choose to take healthy actions first, even when I don’t feel like it, something begins to shift. My behavior starts to change. And as my behavior begins to change, something starts to shift in my thinking. And as my thinking begins to change, my feelings begin to follow. Those simple actions, the ones that don’t seem like much in the moment, begin to calm the storm inside me.

Step Two says that we came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. For me, the action in that step is in the word came. I would have never started believing any of this if I had not come in the first place. I had to get up out of my feel-sorry-for-myself life and take myself down the road to a place where I could hear how to change. Not every action in recovery is grand or dramatic. Many of them are simple and even mundane. Showing up. Listening. Taking the next right step. But those small actions begin to change my behavior, and when my behavior changes it is amazing how my feelings begin to change too. I came, and then I began to believe. And as I kept showing up and taking those simple actions, I started to feel different too.

Prayer
Father, help me to stop letting my feelings run my life. Teach me to walk by faith and take the next right step, even when I don’t feel like it. I surrender the outcome to You. Amen.

My Mind Took Off

Slowing It Down

My mind can take me places that aren’t even real. I’m learning to catch it, slow it down, and come back to what’s actually true.

We are even taking every thought prisoner so that it is obedient to Christ.

2 Corinthians 10:5

I was in a meeting recently, and I really wanted to share. I felt like I had something valuable to offer. It was a tag meeting, and I was used to being called on. But this time, I wasn’t. And just like that, my mind took off. Maybe they don’t like me anymore. I had given a lead share just a week prior, so my mind tried to convince me that maybe I said something wrong. Maybe it just wasn’t good enough. That hit my core character defect, feeling like I’m not good enough. I even started playing out scenarios in my head, full conversations. They all got together and had a private meeting where they were talking about me. They all agreed not to call on me anymore. That I had done or said something wrong.

This is crazy thinking. I know. I also know that when I start thinking like this, it’s a good sign I need to revisit Step 2. I have insane thinking. I can carry on full conversations in my head and create entire scenarios that aren’t real. These are the things I did before recovery. And what really stood out to me was the contradiction. I’m thinking and feeling that I’m not good enough, yet at the same time thinking I’m so important that everyone is talking about me.

Then I realized there are 30 to 40 people in this meeting. Basic math tells me not everyone is going to get a chance to share. There are other people there that want to share too. That helped me put things in perspective. Maybe everything isn’t about me. Maybe they aren’t talking about me either. When I got some perspective, and spent some time in prayer and meditation, I could see this was less about rejection and more about my pride. I wanted to be heard. I wanted to contribute. And when that didn’t happen, I was disappointed. That’s normal. Recovery is helping me recognize it, identify it, and put it in its proper perspective so I don’t get pulled back into the same old thinking. When I do that, I don’t get my feelings hurt, and I don’t act out with manipulation or damage my relationships the way I used to.

Prayer
Father, help me slow down when my mind starts to take off. Help me bring it back to what is real and true. I don’t want to go back to that old thinking. Thank You for keeping me in Your hands. Amen.

What Was So Good About Friday?

What felt like the worst day of my life… became the turning point.

Why do we call it Good Friday? It’s the day Jesus Christ died for our sins. It’s the day He paid the price for everything that had gone wrong. That’s what we’ve been told. That’s what we know. But if you really think about it… there was nothing good about that day when it was happening.

It was betrayal, pain, and loss. Jesus was in agony, knowing what was coming. He was betrayed by one of His own, denied by another, and left alone by the rest. He was beaten, mocked, falsely accused, and sentenced to die. There was nothing about that moment that felt good. It looked like the worst possible outcome.

And honestly… I’ve had a day like that too.

A time in my life where everything fell apart. I felt lost, broken, and alone. I couldn’t think straight. I cried more than I ever had. I felt abandoned, unloved, and unwanted. I didn’t want to live… but I didn’t have the courage to die. That was my bottom. That was my version of a “Good Friday,” and there was nothing good about it when I was in it.

But looking back now… I see it differently.

That was the place where everything started to change. That pain brought me to a place where I was finally willing to do something different. It humbled me enough to admit I needed help, and gave me just enough willingness to ask for it. That’s where recovery started for me. Not when things got better… but when everything broke.

I believed in God before that, but I hadn’t surrendered. Not really. When I finally did—when I let go of trying to control everything and started trusting Him—that’s when my life began to change.

So when I think about why it’s called Good Friday… I understand it now.

Not because it felt good. Not because it looked good. But because of what came out of it.

That was my Good Friday.

Reflection:

Have you had a “Good Friday” moment when life broke you enough to make you reach out for help? How did God meet you in that moment?

He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

Faith That Shows Up

Trusting the Process

I used to think faith was something I believed. Now I’m learning it’s something I do. Showing up, even for 15 minutes, changed more than I expected.

Faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it. Hebrews 11:1

The topic in my meeting last night was, what does faith mean to me. I paused for a moment, because sometimes I can get stuck on how something is said and completely miss the meaning and intent. So, I decided to try and consider what was really being asked instead. I used to only attribute faith to biblical principles and ideas. But the phrasing of the question, and listening to others share, got me thinking about it differently. I wanted to identify the practical application of faith, especially as it relates to my recovery. As I listened, I was reminded of when I first started recovery and hearing the phrase, “Keep coming back, it works.” Honestly, that sounded cute, but it didn’t make much sense to me at the time. How was going to a meeting and listening to other people’s problems going to fix anything around me? I was looking for answers to my own problems, not take on someone else’s too. I wanted to figure things out and control the situation. But something in me was willing to take a chance anyway. This was something new, something I knew nothing about. It was a risk. It meant trusting something that didn’t make sense. It was a paradox.

I remember one time I showed up late to a meeting because of work and everything else going on. I only caught the last 15 minutes. I almost didn’t go. I thought, what’s the point? Drive all the way there just for it to be over. But I went anyway and I stayed. And I got something out of those 15 minutes. Honestly, I got a lot out of it. After the meeting, my sponsor told me something I’ve never forgotten. He said, a little bit of recovery is better than no recovery at all. That stuck with me. Showing up like that, going anyway just for 15 minutes, that was faith. Staying after the meeting and talking with my sponsor was faith. It was doing the next right thing. It was taking action even when I didn’t feel like it or understand it. That is what faith means to me.

What I’ve found is that when I keep coming back, something starts to change. Not everything around me, but something inside me. I begin to change. And even when that wasn’t my original goal, it became the result. Faith, for me, is being willing to trust the process, even when everything in me is telling me otherwise. It’s believing something good can come out of all the pain of my past, even when I don’t see it yet. It’s practical. It shows up in action, in willingness, going to meetings and working the steps. And little by little, I see it working. My life has gotten better one step, one action at a time.

Prayer
Father, help me to trust You even when it doesn’t make sense. Give me the willingness to show up and take the next right step. Teach me how to live this out in my daily life. Amen.

Self Reliance

Back to Basics

I still need God. I still need people. That hasn’t changed.

Trust the Lord completely, and don’t depend on your own knowledge. Proverbs 3:5

I was recently asked to share at a beginners meeting. What I heard in the readings was this reminder: go to meetings and share when I can, get a sponsor, work all the Steps in order starting with Step One, read recovery literature every day, and use the phone between meetings. And I saw something subtle lurking inside me. It’s easy for me to become complacent as things get better. As I experience more peace and happiness, I can drift and forget what brought me here. It reminded me why I came to recovery in the first place. It reminded me not to become complacent, not to drift, not to start thinking I did this on my own. If I could have found this peace and happiness through my own self-reliance, I would have. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. It eluded me at every turn, no matter how much I longed for it.

Realizing that I need God and other people humbles me. It keeps me simple. It keeps me seeking. It reminds me I haven’t arrived and I don’t have it all together. That kind of thinking leads me right back to relapse. It takes me back to old behaviors and a life I no longer want. I need this. I need Him. I need people.

So what do I do? I pray. I sincerely pray and seek God for His will, His wisdom, and His direction in my life. I choose to accept the changes He wants to make in me. I reach out to other people and am vulnerable, sharing my true self. That keeps me humble. It pushes back pride. Living this way has brought me what matters most to me now. Something I longed for my whole life but didn’t even know I was missing. That is connection. Real relationships. First with God, and then with other people. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, help me to continue doing the next right thing. Help me keep doing what I did in the beginning. Thank You for reminding me that I need not only You but others. Give me the courage to continue this journey and keep reaching out and seeking help. Amen.