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.

Slowing Down for Today

Surrender is not just about giving God my future. It is also about giving God my today.

Do not be shaped by this world. Instead, be changed within by a new way of thinking. Then you will be able to decide what God wants for you; you will know what is good and pleasing to him and what is perfect. Romans 12:2

I remember the first time I worked the Steps with my sponsor. Yes, I did say first time. I moved through Steps One and Two quickly. Everything was going smoothly. In my mind, Step Three was already done. I had given my life to Christ as a teenager. I attended church regularly. I studied the Bible. I went to Bible college. I was licensed and ordained. I served in churches in many different ministry roles. I wasn’t new to the concept. So, I figured I could check off Step Three and move right on to Step Four. I told my sponsor, “I got this.”

My sponsor did not argue with me. He didn’t challenge my faith or question my sincerity. He simply suggested we slow down and do the work anyway. He said that if I was truly ready, the work would be easy. That surprised me. What I found was that while I had surrendered my life to Christ long ago, I still struggled with surrendering my will in the ways I thought I had. That started to become clear pretty quickly. Step Three took me weeks, while the first two steps had taken only days. I needed that slowdown, even though I did not realize it at the time. I am thankful God gave my sponsor the wisdom to slow me down and humble me.

What I began to see was how much my biblical knowledge had quietly replaced daily surrender. I had grown complacent. I had become confident in what I knew rather than attentive to how I lived. Pride and control showed up subtly. I assumed I had already completed Step Three because of my education and experience. My sponsor saw something I could not see yet, and God used him to interrupt my momentum. That interruption changed everything.

By slowing down and working the Steps in order, without skipping ahead, I learned something that reshaped my relationship with God. Step Three was not just about giving God my future. It was about giving Him my today too. When that shifted, everything else followed. My relationship with God transitioned from performance to grace and complete honesty. That made me ready to begin Step Four, an honest moral inventory.

Prayer
Lord help me to slow down and not rush ahead. I want to do things Your way and in order. Show me Your will for me and help me to carry it out. 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?

Avoiding Drama

Sometimes what I call drama is just something I don’t want to face.

I was really avoiding disappointment

You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life; and these are they which testify of Me. But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.
John 5:39–40

I try to avoid drama at all costs. And I mean drama of any kind. I think most people do. But for me, the problem was this: anything that wasn’t what I wanted, I labeled as drama. Even though I knew that was unrealistic, knowing it didn’t stop me from thinking this way. And the tricky part is I wasn’t doing it on purpose. It wasn’t conscious. If you had asked me, “Do you have unrealistic expectations?” I would have said no. If you asked, “Do you avoid things you don’t want by calling them drama?” I would have said no. And if you asked if I was in denial, I would have emphatically said, “Absolutely not.”

Why would I answer like this? Because facing disappointment hurts. When things don’t go my way, it often stirs up old painful feelings deep inside me. Feelings like I’m not good enough. Like I can’t do anything right. And I did whatever I could to avoid any feelings tied to rejection and failure. So instead of changing my expectations, I went looking for approval from the wrong people. People who didn’t even have what I was looking for to give. It reminds me of an analogy I’ve heard in meetings. I was going to the hardware store looking for a loaf of bread, and then getting angry they didn’t sell it. All the while ignoring the people God had already placed in my life who were freely offering the encouragement and approval I was desperate for.

That’s when I think about the story of the man who couldn’t swim stranded on a rooftop during a flood. He prayed for God to save him, but turned down a raft, a boat, and even a helicopter because he was waiting for God to do it his way. When he died and asked God why He didn’t help, God said, “I sent you help three times, you just refused it.” That story hits close to home. This is exactly how I am sometimes. I am looking for help in my way, and being so stuck in my own thinking, I actually miss how God has been trying to help me. I don’t need YOUR help. GOD is going to help me. I spent a lot of time waiting on God to help me my way. When help came through people I didn’t want to hear from, I ignored it. I told myself I was waiting on God, when in reality God was already answering. And when things don’t go the way I want or plan, then I interpret that as me being a failure and I feel rejected.

This is denial in its sneakiest form. Denial is so insidious that while I’m in it, I can’t see it. I can’t even admit I’m in denial, because denial convinces me that I’m not. Denial hides from itself. I can’t see it on my own. I need others to help me see what I’m missing. I can pray, meditate, and read Scripture daily and still miss the truth if my heart isn’t willing to change. God often uses people to point out where it’s still there. Recovery keeps teaching me this: healing and peace comes when I remain willing and open to change instead of spinning in self-deception. Denial wants me blind. God wants me free.

Prayer
Father, keep me willing. Show me when I’m resisting help instead of receiving it. Help me trust that You are already at work, even when it’s not my way. Thank You for helping me be free. Amen.

Stop Shoulding on Yourself

Why “Should” Keeps Me Stuck

So there is now no condemnation awaiting those who belong to Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1

I was meeting with my sponsor over coffee. I was sharing with him some of my thoughts and plans when he picked up on something I said and got a pensive look on his face. I asked him what he was thinking. He said, “You need to stop shoulding on yourself and get the should out of your vocabulary.” That startled me. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was saying or why it was important. I remember thinking, how would I ever get anything accomplished without “should”? That little word had quietly run my life for such a long time, and I hadn’t even realized how much power it had. It sounded responsible, even spiritual. I should be further along. I should handle this better. I shouldn’t still be struggling with this. What was wrong with that? My sponsor continued, “Should implies judgment.” When you use it, you’re judging everyone involved, including yourself.

I was confused. To me, those thoughts felt like motivation and good goal setting. But when I paused and took a look at them, I saw something different. “Should” was not helping me. It kept me stuck in defensiveness. It became another explanation for why I never faced my problems. I thought I “should,” but I never took real action. I confused the thought with actual change. Without fully realizing it, it left me feeling like a failure. I was shoulding on myself. I was comparing myself to an imaginary version of who I thought I “should” be instead of being honest about who I really was. It was just another layer of denial. Recovery is showing me that “should” isn’t an asset in my life. It’s an illusion of control that soothes my ego rather than seeing myself how I really am. Thinking that I never measure up feeds into shame and eventually turns into resentment.

My sponsor’s observation led me to do some writing and step work. I started to see how “should” kept me from being honest. That internal conflict leaked out of me in the form of being disagreeable. I was either defending myself, accusing someone else, or quietly blaming God for my situation. “Should” gave me something to think about instead of something to do. In recovery, I’m learning that I can’t think my way into change but I can act my way into better behaviors. When I’m willing to look at my part, without excuses, I finally step out of defensiveness. That honesty opens the door for me to rebuild my life.

Letting go of “should” has helped me stop lying to myself. When I stop telling myself how things should be, I can finally see how things really are, how I really am. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been rewarding. Recovery is teaching me that I don’t have to change everything at once, I just have to deal with what’s right in front of me. When I stay honest about where I am and take the next right step, I feel better about who I am and where I am. That’s how recovery works for me. I show up, tell the truth, and do the work that’s in front of me today. I trust the outcome to God.

Prayer

Father, help me stop shoulding on myself. Show me where I’m judging instead of being honest. Give me the courage to take the next right step and trust You with the outcome. Thank You for meeting me with grace, not condemnation. Amen.

Feeling Not Enough

Why I Reacted the Way I Did

However, those the Father has given me will come to me, and I will never, never reject them.
John 6:37

We have some pretty big health concerns in our family right now, and the insurance we can afford is not the best for some of the things we need. That had never really bothered me before. But hearing what my family needs and realizing certain things were not covered hit something deep inside me. My mind immediately went to money. We don’t have better insurance because I don’t make enough. And right behind that came something even heavier. If I don’t make enough, then I’m not good enough. I have no value. No purpose. In that moment, what I felt was small, weak and hurt. Just like I did when I was a kid.

It only took a few minutes for me to examine my reaction and notice what was really happening, but unfortunately not before I spouted off in my agitation and said something hurtful to my wife. “I’m sorry we don’t have better insurance and I don’t make enough money.” And then I walked away. I knew I was over-reacting, but needed to figure out why. So, I started to write about it and I saw it right away. What I was really feeling had nothing to do with money or insurance. It was much deeper than that. It was the I am not good enough character defect that had surfaced again. And with it came the fear of rejection and abandonment. What I uncovered was the feeling deep inside me that if I’m not good enough, then I won’t be wanted. If I can’t provide what’s needed, then I’ll be left. And eventually, I’ll be alone. This wasn’t a conscious thought; it was lying dormant deep inside me. And it is what set me off. I was feeling less than and insecure, and I didn’t even realize it at the time.

That’s the story fear tries to convince me of if I allow it and don’t examine my reactions and motives. After writing about it, I was able to identify it, I apologized to my wife and humbled myself and shared my realization. She hugged me deeply, said thank you and assured me she loved me no matter what. I felt accepted and valued.

What I’m grateful for today is that I can identify this stuff and put it in its proper place. I can ask myself, why am I bothered, and tell the truth about what I’m feeling. I no longer carry unresolved feelings around for years. I can clean up what I say and own my part much sooner than I ever could before. Before recovery, I never would have examined my feelings and reactions. And I would never notice what I was really feeling and let it turn into resentment that I continually lived in. Now I feel it, name it, and let it go. This is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, show me what’s behind my reactions, especially when they are not warranted. Remind me that You never reject me and that I am accepted and loved by You. Help me to be open and honest with others so I can see how I am loved and accepted by them too. Amen.

Only a Symptom

Usually what shows up on the surface isn’t the real issue.

Looking Beneath the Behavior

Be sure you live out the message and do not merely listen to it, deceiving yourselves.
James 1:22

I was reading in the Big Book and something jumped out at me: Alcohol is but a symptom. So, we must get down to causes and conditions. It landed pretty hard. Harder than I would have thought. I started to think and ask myself how does this apply to me as a codependent. If alcohol is merely a symptom, what in my life is only a symptom? What am I reacting to? What behaviors keep showing up that I don’t like? What am I doing that is hurting me or others, and do I keep repeating it? Those are the things I need to look closer at. I started asking what those behaviors might be pointing to. What causes and conditions are underneath them?

I realized that is what a Fourth Step inventory is for, and why it is so important. It helps me look honestly at why I do what I do and why I feel the way I feel. Those behaviors aren’t random, and they aren’t the real problem. They are patterns rising up from hurt and pain that I never learned how to deal with. I also read that my troubles are mostly of my own making. That tells me my best thinking got me here. I did not cause everything that happened to me or the pain that shaped these behaviors, but it is up to me to do something about them if I want things to change. I need healing and renewal if I want to live and act differently.

That healing and renewal is something only God can do, but I need to ask for His help. I have to humble myself to God, surrender my will to Him, and ask for His guidance to walk me through the process. I also have a part, my part, and that means I have to take action. I am learning that renewal does not happen automatically through awareness alone. It emerges as I walk through the process of working the steps. This shows up as I write honestly, tell the truth to others, and keep listening and being vulnerable.

As I do my part, God does what only He can do. That’s recovery. Because it is in the doing that my transformation and healing become real. Step work helps me see my hurt and pain, it helps me see my part, it helps me surrender to God, it helps me make amends, and it helps me heal. That is the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer
God, thank You for showing me that my behavior is often a symptom of something deeper. Help me look honestly at my patterns and not turn away from what I find. I surrender my will to You today and ask for Your guidance. Give me the courage to do the work that leads to real and lasting change. Amen.

Sarcasm Can Be Lonely

The Sobering Cost of Hiding Behind Humor

I used humor as a wall of protection, but it also kept me from being close with people. Recovery is teaching me to open up, be honest, and let God heal me from the inside out.

Surely you desire truth in the inward parts. Psalm 51:6

I was sitting in a doctor’s office recently, uncomfortable before the appointment even started. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t like the reason I was there. And almost without thinking, I started joking. I made light comments. When they asked to verify my name and date of birth, I said Abraham Lincoln February 16, 1861. I made jokes about images on the wall in the room. I never said I was actually funny. I attempted to use humor the way I always have. It helped me feel less exposed, less powerless. If I could make someone laugh it could at least lighten the mood. Maybe I felt like I had some control over the situation when I really didn’t have any. I was definitely feeling powerless. I can remember growing up, always using humor when I was afraid. As an adult, I now recognize it as one of my defense mechanisms. When I feel unsure, scared, or overwhelmed, I try to be funny. I often feel something, but I don’t always know what I’m feeling. For a long time, the only feelings I could name were good or bad. In those moments, sometimes all I can identify is that I just know that I feel uncomfortable.

On my drive home, I started thinking about the visit and what was discussed and also how I behaved. I noticed I was joking with the nurses and assistants, but not with the doctor. It got me thinking about why I behaved differently. I started to see that this wasn’t just humor. It was sarcasm. I had to ask myself why. What I came up with was that I was trying to protect myself because I was scared. How could sarcasm protect me. Sarcasm has been a way of life for me. Sarcastically, I will say sarcasm is a second language to me. It shows up in my speech, my body language, my texting, even my writing. For a long time, I thought this was just my personality. Several years ago, a supervisor mentioned in an evaluation that I came across as sarcastic. It caught me off guard. It was direct, honest, and hard to argue with, even though neither of us could point to a specific moment or comment. It was more of an overall impression. That was the problem. Many of my remarks were not meant to offend, but they landed as dismissive and arrogant. And even when that wasn’t what I felt inside, it was what others experienced from me.

I realized I didn’t really understand what sarcasm was. So I decided to look it up. What I found out surprised me. Although sarcasm is often lumped in with humor, it wasn’t the same thing. And I saw myself in the descriptions of a person using it to defend and protect themselves. For me, it showed up most around my emotions and big decisions, when I didn’t know what to do and unconsciously tried to protect myself.

I am learning that when I use sarcasm, I am not being honest about how I feel. My sponsor calls this emotional dishonesty. Sarcasm may have helped me feel protected before, but it also kept people at a distance. Sarcasm comes across in a way that I don’t intend or feel toward others. This has led to many people in my life misunderstanding me. Sarcasm has pushed people I care about away before they had the chance to know me. These are not the qualities I want to be identified by. They belong to my old life. I am learning to slow down and pay attention when I am attempting to cover fear or discomfort. I am starting to see sarcasm for what it really is for me. Not just a habit. Not just a personality trait. But a character defect that I can surrender to God and allow Him to keep changing from the inside out.

Prayer
Father, thank You for showing me what I could not see. Help me to be honest with myself and notice when I am using sarcasm to avoid fear instead of facing it. Please keep changing me to be more like You from the inside out. Amen.

Quickly Dismissed – How Denial Convinced Me I Didn’t Have a Problem

What I avoided for years became the place where healing began.

Admit your faults to one another and pray for one another so that you may be healed. James 5:16

Before I ever entered recovery, and long before I knew it would become part of my life, God was already planting seeds through people who cared about me. Over the years, I had good friends, people I trusted, suggest that I consider attending a meeting. A few even offered to go with me. I heard what they were saying, but I quickly dismissed it. I didn’t need recovery. Recovery was for “those” people, for addicts and people who didn’t have it together. That wasn’t me. I believed in God. I read my Bible. I prayed. I was the one who helped others. What I could not see at the time was that in all my trying to be responsible and helpful, I was seldom at rest. I was hypervigilant, trying to do everything exactly right, hoping I would earn God’s favor.

It was hard for me to see it, but I finally realized I was addicted. I wasn’t addicted to substances. I was addicted to fixing and controlling others. I told myself that I valued truth. In reality, I only valued my version of truth. I was afraid of the version that was offered to me. When people who loved me spoke honestly about what they saw, I argued, minimized, or explained it away. I was often perplexed though, at how they seemed to know so much about my childhood, even when I had never spoken about it to anyone. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but their truth felt threatening because it wasn’t my truth. Accepting their truth meant I needed help. It meant I would have to let go of control. I would have to be vulnerable, and that meant I could be hurt again. No way was I going to let that happen. I was afraid of what might happen to me if I opened up to someone about my past. That kind of honesty didn’t feel right to me. And it definitely didn’t feel safe. I had no one I could really trust, not even those who cared about me.

I finally did something about it. The thing I had always avoided. I showed up. I found a place where I could share things out loud, and nothing bad happened. I was accepted. Once I began to see that I had a problem and that I needed help, things started to fall into place. My awareness didn’t happen all at once, and it wasn’t always easy or pretty. Sometimes it still isn’t. But it came through honesty and trust. The people in the rooms of recovery trusted me with their stories, which made it easier to trust them with mine. They weren’t asking anything from me that they weren’t willing to do themselves. That made it possible for me to open up, be honest, and trust someone else for the first time since I could remember. And that was liberating. It was freeing. It was accepting. And it still is today.

Prayer

Father, thank You for never giving up on me. Thank You for leading me to safe places where I can see Your love, acceptance, and forgiveness demonstrated in action. Help me stay willing to show up, speak up, and grow up. I thank You for the healing You provide as I stop hiding from my past and continue to be honest. Amen.

Addicted to Being Right

A fool thinks he is right, but a wise person listens to others. Proverbs 12:15

I had an aha moment after an argument with my wife. Her version of what happened was not accurate. The facts, the details, and even the way she described my motives and inner responses did not line up with what actually occurred. I was being told what I felt, and it was not true. Because of that, I dismissed everything she was saying. I told myself that if the facts were wrong, then her reaction must be her responsibility. I focused on correcting details instead of acknowledging that she was hurt. Once accuracy was in question, I stopped listening to anything else.

As I prayed, journaled, and tried to find my part, I kept coming up empty. That was unusual for me because I am normally able to see it. I even made a list of probable options, which is something I do when I am stuck. The possibilities ranged from extreme to reasonable. Maybe she was completely wrong. Maybe I was missing something obvious. Maybe past trauma was being triggered. Maybe something I said landed harder than I intended. I did recognize one comment I made that was harsh, and I apologized for it immediately. But days later, there was still distance between us, and none of my reasoning fully explained why.

I was doing some step work, and that is when I saw it. I was addicted to being right. That was my part. I was so focused on accuracy or details that I could not be present with her hurt. Being right mattered more to me than trying to understand. I kept looking for my part in the event itself, when my part was actually in how I responded to what she said. Even though I did not do what I was being accused of, my defensiveness and dismissiveness created more distance. The problem was not the facts. The problem was me and how I reacted.

My awareness came by humbling myself to God and following the prescription that recovery offers. That meant I had to stop defending myself and ask God to show me what I could not see. He did. God is faithful that way. It did not come through prayer alone. I had to do something too. I had to put legs to my prayers. I had to write and be honest with myself, and then let that truth sit for a moment. As I did, I began to see how my need to be right had become a form of self-protection and control. My character defects were being triggered, and my insistence on accuracy was just another form of denial. That realization did not excuse my behavior, but it did open the door to change. I cannot always control whether facts are understood, but I am responsible for how I respond. Letting go of my need to be right made room for honesty, connection, and healing.

Prayer

Father God, help me to humble myself and listen to others. Help me hear what they mean, not just the words they are saying. Continue to show me my part in each situation. Give me the courage to change and the power to carry it out. Amen.

Led by Peace

How God Guides Through Peace

For you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace…. Isaiah 55:12

A few years back, I found myself in the middle of a job transition with two offers in front of me. One was a government job that promised security, benefits, and long-term stability. The other was a smaller local business with less pay and fewer guarantees. Everything about the government job made more sense on paper. But as I prayed and wrestled with the decision, something inside me would not settle. When I thought about the local job, I had peace and my mind was at rest. When I thought about the other job, my mind was spinning and I felt restless. I could not put it into words, but I knew I was being asked to trust God instead of what made sense, and I knew which decision that meant.

A few months after I accepted the job with the local business, the world shifted. COVID fear spread quickly, and pressure followed close behind it. Vaccine mandates were introduced, and I watched people lose jobs, reputations, friendships, and even family relationships. Government workers were backed into corners and forced to make decisions they never expected to face. The cost was real and personal, not theoretical. Some complied to survive. Others stood their ground and paid a price they did not choose. As I watched all of this unfold, I realized how different my situation could have been. Had I chosen differently, I would have been pressured to get the vaccine or lose my job. Instead, I was not compelled to inject something into my body that went against my conscience. I was able to continue working and remain at peace. That uneasiness and restlessness I felt about the job decision turned out to be God’s unseen protection, leading me long before I knew why.

I saw through that experience that God is leading me and looking out for me even when I am unaware. He cares for me not just about me. When I cannot see down the road and do not know what lies ahead, He does. And He leads me through peace. What I sensed and felt when deciding between the two jobs was peace and confusion. He led me through peace. So when I have peace about something, now I can trust that God is leading in that direction. When I have confusion, I pause and wait on God until I have peace. He never lets me down and His peace always protects me.

Recovery has helped me put practical application to my spiritual journey. My walk with God is no longer abstract or distant. I have learned that surrendering my life and will to the care of God is not a one-time decision. It is something I practice. I pray. I seek His direction. I wait. Recovery has taught me to slow down long enough to notice what is happening inside me. Waiting until I have peace protects me from haste and avoidance. It helps me make decisions with purpose and thought instead of reacting out of fear. I am no longer a victim of chance or circumstance. When I trust God, I trust His direction. And He continues to lead me the same way He always has, through peace. This is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

God, thank You for leading me even when I am unaware. Help me slow down and wait for Your peace instead of rushing ahead or forcing outcomes. Lead me today the same way You always have, through peace. Amen.

Sanity Restored

Learning to See Life Without Fear

When my time of insanity ended, I lifted my eyes to heaven and my sanity was restored. I praised the Most High and honored the One who lives forever. Daniel 4:34

Life in recovery isn’t only about doing step work and confronting the hurts, trauma, and resentments from our past. It’s also about learning how to notice what is good, beautiful, and wonderful in life. That part does not come naturally to me. Years of trauma trained me to look for danger and expect disappointment. I learned to prepare for the worst because the worst often happened. Experience convinced me that getting my hopes up only led to me being let down. I lived on edge, always waiting for the next disappointment, the next broken promise, the next rug to get pulled out from under me. I rarely expected anything good to last, if it even showed up at all. That fear shaped my thinking so deeply that it started to feel like my normal. I even interpreted that fear as peace and safety because it was all I knew and was accustomed to. I know now it was not a healthy way to live.

Recovery helped me start to see that what I had accepted as normal wasn’t actually working, even though it felt familiar. A lot of my old fear-based patterns contributed to my insane thinking, and Step Two suggests this in a non-threatening way. When it says I came to believe that God could restore me to sanity, it implies that I am insane. Otherwise, why would I need to be restored to sanity? My sponsor often reminds me of two simple truths: I have insane thinking, I’m crazy and I don’t have to stay that way because God can restore me. I’ve heard it said that my best thinking got me where I was. So, I cannot count on my old thinking to find a new way to process my thoughts and feelings. Recovery offers the solution through the 12 Steps, but it only becomes real in my life when I practice it.

I’m slowly learning to lower my guard and allow myself to notice what is good without immediately searching for the catch. That’s what the gift of recovery looks like for me, discovering that I can enjoy life and appreciate what is good and beautiful. It’s like God is saying to me, “You don’t have to live on edge anymore. You don’t have to figure out how to protect yourself from every possible disaster. Let Me restore your mind, give you peace, and remove your shame.” This allows me to open up and finally embrace life and attempt to live it to the fullest. I don’t know what may happen, but today I expect good things.

Prayer Of Awareness

Lord, help me see the beauty that is already in the world. Help me notice the good things I usually overlook because I’m guarded or afraid. Open my eyes to the small gifts You place in my path each day. As I give love, help me recognize the love around me. As I offer kindness, help me see the kindness You’ve planted in others. As I choose hope, help me notice the hope You’re growing in me. Teach me to live awake, not trapped in old fears or old ways of thinking. Help me stay present to Your goodness, Your peace, and Your healing. Let me see the world the way You see it, full of beauty, possibility, and grace. Amen.