Leaving Resentment Behind

God Met Me When I Faced the Truth.

The Lord is close to those who call out to Him, listening closely, especially when they call out to Him in truth. Psalm 145:18

I didn’t realize how quietly resentment can grow until I found myself carrying it everywhere I went. I believed without question that God had called me into ministry. I felt a pull toward Indiana and I prayed and sought God about it for two years. I felt led toward a city I had never seen, and eventually moved my entire family there on nothing but faith and obedience. I felt certain I was doing exactly what God wanted. But when the money ran out, when the pressure grew, and when I saw the deterioration in my family, something inside me buckled. I ultimately turned the church over to someone else and packed up to head back to California. I felt like a failure as a pastor, as a husband and father, and as a man. I never told anyone how deeply that wounded me. But I did feel it. And that silent hurt slowly turned into resentment.

The resentment didn’t start out being apparent. It started as hidden discouragement and disappointment. An obscured Why, God? that I tried to ignore. I told myself I was fine. I told myself I was moving forward. But underneath all that pretending, I was angry. Angry at myself for not being enough. Angry the support ended. Angry at God for letting me step out in faith only to fall flat on my face. I never stopped believing in Him, but I stopped trusting Him. I stopped talking about ministry, stopped admitting what I felt, and stopped letting myself dream. My outward life looked functional, but inside I was hurting, confused, and bitter. Resentment isn’t always perceptible. Sometimes it is veiled and lingers. And I didn’t realize how heavy it had become until it started affecting everything in my life.

What I finally learned is that God can’t heal what I keep hidden. I’ve found that resentment loses its power the moment I bring it into the light. It cannot survive honesty. It cannot survive humility. That is how I found freedom in steps four and five. Once I became willing to forgive, by practicing steps eight and nine, it wasn’t long after, that gratitude filled the void where resentment once lived. And steps ten and eleven help me to keep future resentments from creeping in again. This spiritual alignment keeps me focused on me and my relationship with God, which in turn helps me be at peace with others.

Prayer:
Father thank You for receiving me when I turned to You. Thank You for the steps of recovery that helped put my faith in action. I trust You to care for me. Help me to stay willing to make amends and forgive. Keep me from allowing resentments to come back in again. I love You, teach me to love others with the way You have shown love to me. Amen.

Recovery Glasses

Bringing Life Into Focus

But I know this: I once was blind, and now I can see! John 9:25

I remember riding with a friend one day when he asked me to help navigate. We were trying to find a certain street, and he told me to let him know when we were getting close. So I was watching for the sign, feeling pretty confident in my role, and we were having a good time. Then out of nowhere he sounded irritated. “There’s the street right there. Why didn’t you tell me?” I told him we weren’t close enough yet for me to read the sign. I honestly had no idea how he could read it. He looked at me like I had three heads and said, “You can’t read that sign?” When I said no, he said “You need glasses!” I said “No I do not!” and then he handed me his glasses and said, “Put these on.” The moment I put them on, it was like I had been in a pitch black room and someone just flipped on the light switch. I could suddenly see every single letter clear as day. Everything seemed more vivid, vibrant and defined.

Later that day at his house, he handed me the glasses again and said, “Look at the TV through these.” I laughed and said, “What difference could that make?” Famous last words. I put them on and I was flabbergasted. The colors were bright. The picture was sharp. It was amazing. I thought I could not believe I had never watched TV like this before in my entire life. Let me tell you, I’ve watched a lot of TV too. I know how to watch me some TV, and apparently I’ve never really seen any of it.

I was thinking about that memory this morning during meditation, and it hit me that recovery is very much like that. Before recovery, I was walking around without realizing how blurry my thinking was. I thought my reactions and my fears were normal because they were all I had ever known. I thought I was seeing things just as clearly, maybe better, as everyone else. But once I started doing the steps with a sponsor, going to meetings, and doing acts of service, things slowly came into focus. My feelings made more sense. Life felt more understandable. I didn’t have to get right up on every problem to figure out what was going on. It was like putting on actual glasses for the first time. Everything came into focus and I could see things as they really were, not as how I was interpreting based on limited sight.

When I think about recovery now, I think about those glasses. I didn’t know anything needed to change until someone handed me a clearer way to see things. God used people, meetings, and simple tools to show me what I couldn’t see on my own. And when I keep my recovery glasses on, I feel alive and the world is a much more beautiful place filled with vibrant colors and experiences. It is more real and defined. My circumstances didn’t change or automatically fix themselves, but the way I see them changed. And when I see more clearly, I can live more honestly and have more serenity, the kind that comes from finally seeing things as they really are and not just how I imagine or want them to be.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for helping me see things as they really are, not just how I imagine them or want them to be. Thank You for the gift of recovery and the people who guide me along the way. Keep my vision clear today. Help me stay honest, willing, and grounded in Your truth. Amen.

How Recovery Brought Me Back to God

A story of honesty, healing, and rediscovering grace.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8

Recovery did not just help me stop self destructive behavior. It helped me rediscover who God really is. The story of how that happened is where this devotional begins.

When I first came into recovery, I was hiding from God. I had known God closely once and never stopped believing in Him, but I wanted nothing to do with church or religion. I did not want to be preached at or told what I should be doing. I felt I had drifted too far away, was now too broken, and too ashamed to face Him again.

I avoided churches of any kind, yet it seemed like most recovery meetings were held in one, and I avoided those too.

Attending my first Christ centered recovery group happened completely by accident. Or did it. I do not believe in coincidences.

I had gone to my regular Friday night meeting, but when I arrived, no one was there. I walked up and down the empty halls of the school, checking classrooms and even interrupting another meeting by mistake. I called everyone I knew, and finally someone told me there was no meeting that night.

I was crushed. I needed a meeting. It had been a rough day, and the thought of being alone that night was unbearable. I was scared.

As I sat there in my car, desperate for connection, I remembered that sign at the church.

Sitting there, uneasy feelings of rejection and being unloved began to surface. I thought about that sign in front of the church that I drove past on my way to my meeting. It seemed to jump out at me that night and catch my attention.

It said Celebrate Recovery. It sounded like a meeting, but it was still in a church, and that did not feel safe. Did I mention I used to attend that church. Yeah. Talk about insult to injury.

Every time I drove past it, I told myself, “That’s not for me.”

But that night something felt different. I did not want to go home, and I did not want to be alone. I knew the meeting was already well underway and probably almost over, but I had enough recovery to know that some meeting was better than no meeting.

So I decided to take a chance.

The sign said it started at seven. I walked in around seven forty five, and the meeting was still going and just breaking into share groups.

This was different. It was a welcome change.

A man named Jeff greeted me like he had been waiting for me to arrive. He asked my name and what brought me there. I was caught off guard. It felt personal to be asked that directly, but as I later learned, that is recovery in action.

I told him I was just looking for a meeting, and he smiled and said, “You found one.”

That night marked the beginning of something I never expected. A renewed connection with God.

He was bringing me back to Him slowly and at my pace, even though I had done everything I could to keep Him at arm’s distance.

I felt like the prodigal son being welcomed home. For the first time in a long time, something inside me stirred. It was hope.

It did not take long for me to realize something was happening that I could not fully explain. I was not just going to meetings anymore. I was starting to open up.

Each time I shared honestly, something inside me loosened.

The walls I had built to protect myself were starting to come down. I began to sense God’s presence again. I started to feel like it might be safe to trust these people.

An experience I had as a teenager convinced me that trusting church people with my struggles and fears was impossible. But the people in recovery did not judge me or preach at me. They listened. They understood. They cared.

In their acceptance, I began to see God’s grace in practice.

Recovery was doing what religion never could. It was teaching me how to be honest, how to trust, how to connect, and how to belong again.

Somewhere in that process, I realized that God had not given up on me. He had been waiting there the whole time for me to humble myself, let go of my resentments, and surrender to His will.

As I followed the suggestion to keep coming back, I noticed these meetings had three parts. There was a time of worship and giving thanks to God, a time of teaching or testimony, and then the share groups.

The share groups were familiar to me from other recovery meetings, so that is where I started. Once I understood the structure, I began arriving just in time for them, and that was okay. No one looked down on me or made me feel different. I was accepted just as I was.

After a while, I started showing up right after the worship so I could hear the teaching on one of the steps or listen to someone share their story. Jeff, the man who greeted me that first night, became my sponsor.

He encouraged me, which is a nice way of saying he told me, that it was time to stop running from God. He invited me to attend the whole meeting, including the worship. I reluctantly agreed. I am so glad I did.

Through those moments of worship, something came alive in me again. God was meeting me where I was and gently leading me home. I started to feel grateful.

I did not realize it at the time, but each small step I took toward honesty, connection, and openness was also a step toward God. I had been running from Him for so long, but through recovery He patiently waited for me to come back.

The verse says, Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8.

For years, I thought that meant I had to clean myself up first. What I really had to do was show up. One honest step in His direction. God did the rest.

Looking back now, I can see that recovery did not just bring me healing. It brought me back to God. It brought me home.

My relationship with God is no longer based on performance. It is based on understanding that He accepts me just as I am. I began to see that in the rooms of recovery, and it helped me understand that God accepts me, listens to me, and loves me, imperfections and all.

This devotional was written from that place. From the heart of someone who discovered that healing is not just about recovery, but about relationship. My prayer is that as you read these reflections, you experience the same grace that brought me home.

The Real Reason I Was Upset

When God Showed Me the Hurt Beneath the Reaction

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

We had been holding our Christ-centered recovery meetings at our church for about six months, after nearly a year of prayer, preparation, and leadership training. My wife and I had invested our time, energy, and hearts into getting it started. The meetings were thriving, with more than fifty people attending each week.

Then one afternoon, the pastor called to tell me we could no longer use the fellowship hall where we held our meal time. His son had started using the room for a business gathering. I was stunned. The meal time was such an important part of what we did – it was where newcomers met others, developed relationships, and connected with potential sponsors. I couldn’t believe that after all that effort, we were being displaced for a sales meeting.

Frustrated and angry, I called my sponsor. I explained what happened and how unfair it felt. He listened and then asked, “Why are you so upset?”

“I just told you,” I said, “They took our room from us!”

He asked again, more pointedly, “Why are you so upset?”

I repeated my reasons, still irritated. Then he said something that stopped me cold. “Which one of your core issues is being stirred up by this situation?”

I paused. In that moment, I knew exactly what he meant. I wasn’t just angry about losing a room. I felt rejected, overlooked, and unimportant. It touched old wounds of not feeling good enough or chosen. The truth was, those feelings were my issue, not anyone else’s.

My sponsor encouraged me to look at it differently. “Either the other group will take off and need a bigger space, or it will fade away. Either way, you’ll most likely get your room back.”

So we moved our meal time into the sanctuary. It meant more set-up and clean-up, but we made it work. And just as he said, within two weeks the other meetings faded and we got our fellowship hall back. But the real victory wasn’t getting the room back. It was learning to pause, look inward, and let God deal with the root instead of the reaction.

Prayer:

Lord, when I feel angry, overlooked, or rejected, help me to stop and ask what You are showing me. Teach me to take inventory of my heart and to let You heal the places where I still feel not good enough. Thank You for using every circumstance, even the unexpected ones, to draw me closer to You. Amen.

The Impossible Ammends

Not every amends can be made in person.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

The other day I was thinking about my mom and how much I miss her. She passed a few years ago, but her memory still finds me at unexpected times. As I thought about her, a moment from years back came to mind, a time when I was brand new to recovery and just learning to set boundaries. I realized that in my efforts to change and work the program, I had been harsh and unkind to her. That memory brought a deep sense of regret. But since she was gone, I reasoned it was a conversation I would never get to have with her.

Then I decided to try something I had heard about in recovery and had practiced before, the “empty chair” exercise. I pictured my mom sitting across from me in an empty chair. I began to speak to her out loud and told her I was sorry for how I had treated her, for being selfish, distant, withdrawn, and dismissive. As I talked, I started to see something I had not seen before. I had been punishing her for things she never did. I realized I had been blaming her for the abuse I suffered from my stepdad, as if she could have somehow made it stop. But the truth was, she never hurt me. She tried to protect me, and when she did, she got hurt herself.

As I spoke those words aloud, I felt something lift. I had not realized it until then, but I had been carrying anger and guilt for a very long time, and it was time to let it go. I prayed and asked God to help me forgive completely and let go of what I had been holding on to for so long. What followed was peace, the kind only God can bring.

That time of prayer and honesty brought peace and healing to my heart. I know there is still more work to do, but it was a real step forward. I have come to accept that my mom, like me, was also doing the best she could. I no longer hold her responsible for what she could not control. That realization has helped me show more compassion toward others who are struggling in their own pain. God continues to teach me that forgiveness is not about changing the past. It is about allowing His grace to change me today.

Prayer:
God, thank You for helping me face the things I have held inside for so long. Continue to teach me to forgive completely and to show grace to others the way You have shown grace to me. Keep changing me through Your love, one day at a time. Amen.

Trust, but Verify

Courage isn’t opening up all at once, but opening up wisely

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

Freedom doesn’t come from hiding; it comes from honesty. I was hurt very early in my Christian walk by the person who led me to the Lord. It was gut-wrenching and painful. This person shared things I had told them in confidence and they even mocked me behind my back. That experience left a deep wound, a scar that shaped how I saw people for years. From that moment on, I kept my guard up, convinced that if people in the church couldn’t be trusted, no one could. I learned to smile on the outside but stayed guarded on the inside. I reasoned that I was protecting my witness, but really, I was covering my pain. If no one knew my challenges, then they couldn’t use them to hurt me again.

For a long time, I believed that sharing my struggles was like announcing to the world that I was weak and didn’t measure up. But in recovery, I began to see that it wasn’t the principles of trust and confession that were wrong, it was trusting and sharing with the wrong person. Admitting my wrongs (confession), done safely, is where healing begins. Telling the truth to someone trustworthy has become one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Every time I bring something into the light, it no longer has power over me, and I find a little more freedom. That’s what recovery has taught me: when I tell the truth in a safe place, I am actually humbling myself, and when I do I receive the grace that God promises.

God has a way of using safe people to rebuild broken trust. Through relationships in recovery, He showed me that it’s possible to open up again, not carelessly, but courageously. The Just for Today bookmark reminds me that I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for a lifetime. So, I adopted my own slogan: “Trust, but verify.” It allows me to be open and honest in pieces and still feel safe. I can share something with someone, but not everything all at once. I pause and see how they respond, and if it still feels safe, I can share more. For me, it has worked. Healing didn’t come all at once, but through each moment of honesty and grace. My walls began to lower, and I could finally breathe. I learned that trusting again isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a demonstration of freedom from the wounds and scars of the past. And I can see the reality of the promise in James 4:6.

Prayer:
God, thank You for healing my broken trust and teaching me how to be open again. Help me to recognize the safe people You’ve placed in my life and give me the courage to keep living honestly. Use my story to help others find safety, healing, and hope in You. Amen.

God Met Me In My Mess

The Moment I Stopped Trying to Earn God’s Love

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16

I felt trapped in a vicious cycle that I couldn’t escape. No matter how hard I tried, I kept repeating the same destructive behaviors. I would pray and plead, “God, please take this urge away,” but the moment of relief never lasted. Like the proverb says, I kept returning to my own vomit. Each time I failed, the shame grew heavier until I started to believe that maybe this was just who I was now. I felt hopeless, discouraged, and distant from God. How could He possibly take me back again? I knew better, and that made it worse. I loved God deeply, but I was too embarrassed to pray. I repented, but I still carried guilt like a permanent scar. Even when I did pray, I found myself begging for forgiveness over and over, as if His mercy depended on how sorry I felt. Though I knew in my head that He promised forgiveness, I didn’t believe it enough to feel it in my heart. Slowly, without even realizing it, I stopped praying altogether.

Through recovery, something began to change. At every meeting, we prayed, once to open and once to close. So that meant I prayed. I was praying again. The prayers were familiar and I recognized the words, but now they seemed more real to me. I had a spiritual awakening, realizing that even simple, common prayers carry deep meaning when spoken from the heart. God reached me there, taking the little bit I had to give and welcomed me. He didn’t reject me or chastise me for not doing it better. He just accepted me as I was, and He came to meet me right there. I started to feel like I was getting to know God, not just about Him.

My relationship with God began to deepen, and prayer was becoming a conversation. I laid down my facade and was finally being honest. I could talk to Him about anything and everything. I started having discussions with God like I would another person. I started sharing my struggles, fears, and plans with God. I thanked Him, asked His advice and opinion, and I even questioned Him. What was important was that I stopped lying to God and told Him the truth. The amazing thing is that the more honest I was with Him, the more I trusted Him, and the more peace I felt. Prayer wasn’t about earning His approval anymore, it was about connection. I discovered God wasn’t waiting for me to get it right; He was waiting for me to get real.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for accepting me right where I am. Thank You that I don’t have to perform or pretend to earn Your love. Teach me to keep coming to You honestly, without fear or shame. Help me to grow in our conversation and to stay open to Your voice every day. Amen.

Living Amends

Letting go of yesterday by living differently today.

We know that our old life died with Christ on the cross so that the power of sin would be destroyed. We are no longer slaves to sin. Romans 6:6

I was thinking about my son this past week. He was born at Thanksgiving, and this time every year I am reminded of another thing to be thankful for. But not all the memories are good. His delivery was rough, and there were complications. He and his mom stayed in the hospital for several days, but I went home that night because family was coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. At the time I was a young retail manager, less than a year into the job, and terrified to ask for anything. The next morning was Black Friday, the busiest sales day of the year, and instead of being at the hospital with my newborn son, I went to work. Looking back, it breaks my heart that fear had that much power over me. I am embarrassed to admit that I left my wife and son alone after an emergency birth because I cared more about approval than presence. And the worst part? No one even noticed. No thank you, no good job, nothing. All that sacrifice, and it meant absolutely nothing. I carried that shame with me for years.

I have learned in recovery that I cannot rewrite that choice. I cannot go back and be the father or husband I should have been. I must stop wishing for a happier past. But what I can do is face the truth of who I was back then. I can admit that fear and people pleasing ran my life. I can admit that my thinking was so twisted that I believed showing up at work mattered more than showing up for my family. That kind of honesty hurts, but it is the only way I can grow. A living amends means I do not pretend it did not happen. It means I face the truth and ask God to change the patterns that drove me there in the first place. And then I allow Him to change me, by actually doing things differently.

So when my youngest daughter was born, I made a different choice. I asked for time off. Not just the day she was born, but the next few days too. I stayed with my wife. I held my daughter. I was present. And the feeling was completely different. There was no guilt, no shame, no heaviness following me around. Just gratitude, relief, and the sense that maybe I was finally becoming the man I always wanted to be.

That shift did not come from me trying harder. It came from working the steps with my sponsor and putting the principles of recovery into action in my life. This allowed God to untangle the fear that used to control me. That is what living amends is to me. It is making different choices in similar situations. This is an amends I make for myself, and because of it I am slowly becoming the version of me that God intended.

Prayer:God, thank You for showing me how to make living amends through the choices I make today. Help me stay honest, stay willing, and stay open to the changes You are forming in me. Amen.

Perfectly Human

Accepted without having to prove it

To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved. Ephesians 1:6

Growing up in an alcoholic home, I learned that I had to be perfect or be punished. Love was conditional, and mistakes came with consequences. So when I began seeking God, I carried that same belief into my relationship with Him. I attended church every time the doors were open, read my Bible voraciously, and prayed continually. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was seeking God’s approval, trying to earn His love using the only skills I knew: by being good, trying to be perfect, and not making mistakes so I wouldn’t be punished by Him. I was trying to earn something that was impossible to attain, something God had already provided for me.

It was in recovery that I began to see what I was really doing. I was trying to control my relationship with God. If God was pleased with me, then I thought I would be safe with Him too. Deep down, I feared the ultimate punishment from Him, hell. It wasn’t easy for me to grasp any of this. My denial had many layers, and because of my extensive time spent studying the Bible, I had plenty of rationalization and justification for my beliefs, or so I thought. But God did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. He broke through the walls I had built to protect myself. By working the steps and finally being honest and vulnerable, I began to see that He accepted me, even with my faults and imperfections. Then came the aha moment: God made me perfectly human, not a perfect human. When I understood that, the walls I’d constructed to protect me and keep others out just seemed to crumble, and I felt the heavy weight of trying to be perfect, that I had carried for so long, finally fall away. For the first time, I could accept that God loved me without conditions.

Today I no longer try to be perfect. I understand now that perfection is only an illusion, just like control. My value isn’t based on how well I perform, but on accepting that I have value simply because I exist. I deserve to be loved for who I am, not for what I can do, but because He made me. And that, all by itself, is enough.

Prayer:
God, thank You for loving me just as I am. Thank You for making me perfectly human and for accepting me in Christ. Help me to rest in the truth that I don’t have to earn Your love or prove my worth. Teach me to live each day in Your grace, free from the illusion of perfection, and confident that I am already accepted in the Beloved. Amen.

Different Memories

Learning to accept someone else’s reality without losing my own.

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. Philippians 4:11

About 6 months into my recovery journey, I was feeling pretty good about myself and optimism filled my soul. I was developing a healthy self-esteem. I was sharing this with my younger brother, explaining how recovery was helping me heal, not just from hitting my bottom, but from the scars and terror of our tumultuous childhood. I was absolutely shocked by his response. I was expecting him to listen, understand, and agree. Instead, he said, “What do you mean?” I said, “You know; the beatings, the fights, emotional damage, the name calling and abuse from our stepdad.” My brother looked me square in the face and with no emotion, said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, I never experienced that.” I stood there stunned, unable to speak. I couldn’t believe what he said. I pressed a little more yet he remained resilient in his position.

The thing is, my brother had suffered far more physical and emotional abuse than I ever had. In fact, my stepdad kicked me out of the house when I was 18 because I stood up to my stepdad when he was beating my brother. I told my stepdad to leave my brother alone and go sleep it off. My brother had absolutely no memory of it at all. He was so calm and reserved about it, I wondered if somehow, I was imagining all this. Did I invent some abusive childhood home life to explain my pain or seek attention? But why would I do that? And deep inside, I knew certain facts don’t lie.

Thankfully, recovery gave me new tools to help me work through this. In speaking with my sponsor, he assured me this was common. He even reminded me of how long it took for me to see I needed help. For years, many people suggested recovery to me, and I was just as adamant that I didn’t need it. These people were from similar backgrounds, also in recovery. Even though I never told them about my childhood, I leaked so bad they saw it gushing out of me. It was the damage done to a child growing up in an alcoholic home. I think of the saying, “If you spot it, you got it.” They saw it all over me, even though I never did. And neither did my brother. Denial, what is thy name?

It was hard at first, I didn’t understand how my brother could absolutely deny all of the things I remembered vividly. But I’d experienced transformation in my life, which was the precipice for the conversation in the first place. He saw the change in my attitude and in my growing acceptance. That also meant accepting that my brother had a different reality than I did. He remembered our childhood differently. I didn’t need to argue or prove my version of events. He didn’t have to acknowledge my pain either. I loved him; he was my brother. And I decided to show him love and allow him the same freedom to live his life his way, the same way I have been allowed to live mine. That is exactly what recovery has taught me to do. That is the gift I can give to him, but really it’s also a gift for me. Acceptance is truly the answer to all of my problems today.

Prayer: God, thank You for healing my pain and replacing it with Your peace. Help me to continue to accept things and people as they are, not as I want them to be. Grant me the grace to love others as You love me, so that I can live in contentment. Amen.

Masters in Manipulation

It takes one to know one.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

I remember when I was stalled doing my fourth step. Each week when I met with my sponsor, he would ask how I was doing on my inventory. Each week I would say good. Then the day came when he said, “Ok, next week we start your fifth step.” I swallowed hard… gulp… voice quivering and quaking… “Already?” I mustered. He chuckled and said, “Yeah, it’s been long enough.” And he was right too. I was putting off doing the fifth step because I was afraid. I didn’t know what to expect and knew I would not be in control. I had never done this before. What if he laughed? What if he rejected me? What if he fired me? Would he still like me? What if he thought less of me? All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head.

I find that I often put off doing things that I don’t want to do. It’s not surprising, the things I want to do, I do or make time to do on purpose. But the things I don’t want to do seem to always get relegated off to the future. I wonder why? Sometimes it’s because I just don’t want to do it. Maybe I’m busy, or maybe I just don’t want to stop what I’m doing to do something else. Other times I don’t know why, I just don’t want to do it. But I was thinking about this today, and then I had another thought. Maybe procrastination is just another form of control. You see, if I put something off, I choose when I’m gonna do it. It doesn’t matter what it is either. It could be taking out the trash. It could be folding my clothes. It could be a project at work. It could be calling a relative or meeting up with a long-lost friend. Whatever it is, I’m realizing that when I put it off for the future, sometimes it’s because of control.

I think maybe some elements of fear also show themselves and could be another reason I put things off. I don’t care whether it’s fear or control… I don’t want either of these in my life. Maybe it’s because I have a Master’s degree in manipulation and control, that I can see it from afar off. It takes one to know one, you know what I mean. I realize that some may not see it this way or share my perspective. And this may just be the pendulum swinging back to overcompensate from my extreme dysfunction in this area. Once, I prided myself on being able to convince anyone and talk them into anything, or get them to acquiesce to my reasoning, all manipulation and control. It was in working the steps that I saw these two demons for what they really are, and I do not want anything at all to do with manipulation or control anymore, or ever again. So I run and flee from even the appearance. And boy, can I see it rear its ugly head from a mile away.

Reflection: What’s one thing I’ve been putting off that could bring me peace if I simply did it today?

Sleeping on the Couch

𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝.

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up. James 4:10

The other day, I’m sorry to say, my wife and I got into an argument. It wasn’t resolved, and she asked me to sleep on the couch. “Asked” is a polite word. The next night I started setting up camp on the couch again when she looked at me and said, “Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

I told her, “I’m waiting for you to invite me back.”
In my head that sounded noble.
But she simply said, “It’s up to you if you want to sleep in your own bed. Take the initiative.”

That rattled me. I sat there going back and forth in my mind, do I ask to come back to bed, or do I stay put on the couch? I eventually realized what was really going on. It wasn’t honor or principle. It was pride. Why would I not want to sleep in my own bed next to my wife, the woman I love? Because in my twisted thinking, I determined that her “inviting me back” meant she was apologizing. Pride was calling the shots again.

That night, I’m also sorry to say, I chose the couch. I told myself I was being noble. But the next morning, as I sat drinking my coffee, I started to feel that quiet tug inside. The principles of recovery were still working, just slower than I wanted to admit. Recovery has taught me that growth doesn’t always happen in the moment, it happens when I’m willing to respond to what God shows me, even if it’s the next day.

So I humbled myself, apologized, and asked if I could come back to bed. My wife hugged me, told me she loved me, and apologized too. That night, I slept in my own bed again, and I slept in peace.

The principles of recovery help in everyday life. They’re not just words on paper. The stuff is real.

Prayer:
God, thank You for helping me see how pride can keep me stuck in places You never meant me to stay. Teach me to humble myself quickly, to take the first step toward peace, and to keep choosing love over being right. Amen.

Catching Myself

𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧.

I will advise you, lead you, and be your guide. Psalm 32:8

The other day I caught myself slipping into an old habit of manipulation. We had just finished watching the new Downton Abbey movie, and I was exhausted. I had gotten up much earlier than usual and was ready for bed before our normal bedtime. My wife and I usually go to bed at the same time, but she wasn’t ready yet. Then the thought crept in: Just sit here on the couch and pretend to fall asleep. Maybe she’ll see me and decide it’s time for bed too.

As soon as I closed my eyes, I heard that familiar inner voice, the one that sounds suspiciously like my sponsor, say, “What are you doing? This is manipulation.” I opened my eyes and mulled it over for a couple of minutes. Deep down, I knew he was right.

I had an internal dialogue with myself. What can I do? She’s not ready for bed. Then another thought came: I could use the tools of recovery I’ve learned. I could practice self-care and make my needs known. So I braved it. I got up, locked up the house, and went through my normal bedtime routine. We all have them. Then I came over to my wife and said, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” I kissed her goodnight and went to bed. She wasn’t far behind.

I didn’t beat myself up for having the thought either. I remembered something Martin Luther once said: “You cannot keep birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair.” That quote reminds me that all sorts of thoughts and temptations will come. But as long as I don’t give them life by acting on them, they have no power over me.

I’m grateful for the tools I’ve learned in recovery. They help me recognize old patterns before they can take root and remind me that permanent change happens one honest choice at a time. Each day I practice them, I see a little more of the man God always meant for me to be.

Prayer: God, thank You for helping me recognize when old behaviors try to sneak back in. Help me to keep using the tools You’ve given me to live with honesty, courage, and peace. Amen.

It’s The Little Things

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘋𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺. 𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘯 2:15

I have this habit of leaving empty containers out on the counter instead of putting them in the trash. I tell myself it is so I will remember we are out, but if I am being honest, it is my passive aggressive way of letting my wife know that we need more. She always sees it and says something like, “So… do you want me to order more of this?” And every time I respond with something like, “I just set it there to remind myself.” But inside I know exactly what I am doing. It is subtle manipulation. It is dishonest communication. It is an old behavior I know all too well.

Today I caught myself. I was making coffee and used the last of the creamer. Without thinking, I set the empty container on the counter right next to the trash can and walked away. Later I came back to rinse out my coffee cup and place it in the dishwasher, and when I turned around, that empty creamer container was still sitting there, staring me in the face. Honestly, I never thought about why I did it before, but in that moment I heard in my head, “Why are you just leaving it there?” I realized it was that old behavior manipulation rearing its ugly head again. So I picked it up, put it in the trash where it belonged, and then I asked my wife if she would add creamer to the grocery list. It may sound small, even silly, but it was a huge deal. Way bigger than it may have looked. I was being honest with myself and I was finally acting like a grown-up.

This is recovery working in my life. It is not about how I started to behave. It is about how I finished. I was the only one who knew what I had done. I did not owe an amends, and if I had not said anything, no one would have known. But I would have known. I am grateful that God, who is always faithful, opened my awareness and showed me exactly what I was doing. I was repeating the same old habit without even thinking about it. This new life I want to live, recovery, is about choosing honesty even when it seems small or silly, especially when no one is looking. It truly is the little things that make the difference. Those small choices shape who I am becoming and who I want to be. And today I chose differently. I choose to be healthy and free.

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿: God, thank You for showing me the small things that matter. Help me notice old habits before they grow into something bigger. Give me the courage to choose honesty, even when it feels insignificant or uncomfortable. Thank You for helping me grow one choice at a time. Amen.

Stopping To Smell The Roses

Slowing down and recognizing the beauty in front of me.

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 12:2

I will try to stop and take the time to smell the roses. I have always thought of that as a metaphorical idea. But my wife took it literally, and it was an object lesson for me. My wife and I were on a walk. We had decided to exercise and do a brisk 20 minute walk every evening to get our heart rate up and blood pumping. A healthy activity. As we were walking, about 10 minutes in, I noticed she was not right next to me. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see her behind me, thinking maybe I was walking a bit too fast. Instead, I saw her stopped, bent over next to a rose bush on the path. She called me over. Frustrated, I pointed to my wrist and said we need to keep walking. We are interrupting our cardio and cannot stop. She looked at me with that ever so sweet smile and said, look at the sunset, look how beautiful it is. And come smell how lovely these roses are. She was happy and content. She was experiencing peace, pausing in the moment and admiring the beauty and wonder of her day. My wife was connecting with God while I was stuck on my agenda. She had literally stopped to smell the roses. And God opened my eyes to see that the phrase that sometimes becomes a cliche was really tangible. I saw the power of what it meant right before my eyes.

A full life is not just about doing step work and dealing with the past. All the hurts, pains, resentments and damage of the past. It is also about learning how to embrace what is good and beautiful. But here is the truth, it is not easy for me to look for the amazing and the wonderful. Years of trauma taught me to stay on guard and be on the lookout for danger. It shaped how I saw the world. Always watchful for what could happen and how to avoid it. And with it also came criticism, how can people not see an obviously horrible event and avoid it? That was my twisted thinking. My insane thinking. Step two enlightens me to this in a non threatening way. I came to believe that God could restore me to sanity. The understood concept is that I am insane. Otherwise, why would I seek to be restored to sanity? I have heard it said that my best thinking got me to where I am. So I need a different way of thinking. That moment with my wife showed me what that new way of thinking might look like.

This is what restored sanity actually looks like for me. It is not about a big spiritual breakthrough or a sudden change in personality. It is small moments like this, where I pause long enough to see what is good right in front of me. I am learning to slow down, to breathe, to not rush past the beauty God puts in my path. Experiencing healing in recovery and renewing my mind means being open to new ways of thinking. I do not want to miss the wonderful things God has planned or overlook the beauty right in front of me because I am stuck on an agenda or trying to exercise control. If stopping to smell the roses is part of becoming whole, then I want to practice it. I want to look for the goodness, the peace, the moments where God is trying to get my attention. I want to let Him restore my mind, moving me forward one simple choice at a time.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫: God, thank You for reminding me to stop and see the beauty around me. Help me pause long enough to feel Your peace. Renew my mind and teach me a new way of thinking. I want to notice You in the quiet moments of my day. Amen.