People Are More Than Their Cover

Seeing Value Beneath The Blemishes

You are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read by all men. 2 Corinthians 3:2

The other day I ordered a few books online. After managing bookstores for over twenty years, I’ve learned to take good care of my books. I never bent the covers back, folded the corners of pages, or wrote in the margins. I always treated them with respect and took good care of them. So when my order arrived, I was excited to open it. The listing said the books were in “excellent” or “very good” condition, and in my mind that meant clean pages, no writing, no dog-ears, just a well-cared-for book that might have been read once or twice. But when I opened the package, one of the books I was most excited to read had writing in the margins, lots of underlining, many dog-eared pages, and a handwritten dedication on the inside cover. My first reaction was disappointment. In my estimation, this was not in either excellent nor very good condition. I even thought about contacting the seller to let them know.

Then a thought crossed my mind: Am I happy to have the book? The answer surprised me, yes, I was. Some of the titles I ordered were out of print and hard to find, and I was grateful to have found them at all. I realized that even with its imperfections, I still had what I wanted, the words, the message, the content inside. And who knows, maybe some additional insight or wisdom could be gained from the previous owner’s experience and notes. My disappointment wasn’t really about the book. It was about my expectations. I had decided ahead of time what “excellent” meant, and when it didn’t match my definition, I felt let down. Once I realized that, something shifted inside me. Gratitude replaced frustration, and peace followed right behind it.

As I thought about holding that “imperfect” book in my hands, I realized how much its flaws and defects told a story other than the one contained in its pages. The folded corners, the writing in the margins, even the dedication inside, they were signs that someone else had found value in its pages and loved it before I did. In a way, those shortcomings gave the book more character and value to me, not less. That thought made me smile and led me to a deeper realization. If I could see the beauty in something imperfect like that book, why was it so hard to do the same with people? I started to see how often I expect others to meet my standards, to see things my way, to share my values and priorities, maybe without even realizing that I have them. And when they don’t, I feel disappointed, frustrated, or even angry. But people are not books, and you really can’t judge them by their cover. Some of the ones who look worn or imperfect hold the greatest wisdom and grace. Every day I’m learning to appreciate others for who they are, not for how closely they align with my expectations. When I can do that, relationships become more about acceptance and gratitude than judgment, and love becomes something I can give and receive freely.

Prayer: God, thank You for reminding me that people are not meant to meet my expectations. Teach me to love, accept, and appreciate others just as they are. Help me to let go of judgment and choose gratitude instead. Amen.

Stop Pretending

Sometimes the biggest step in recovery is letting people see the real me.

The Lord does not look at the things people see. People look at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7

One of the things I love about recovery is that line in the reading that says there are no professionals here. There are no experts. To me that means no one is judging how well I do recovery. It is just a group of people trying to break free from the obsessions and dependencies that weigh us down. I do not have to impress anyone. I do not have to be good enough. I just need to show up, be present, and try the recommended solution to find freedom from the things that have held me prisoner. It comforts me to know that I am not alone on this road. Others have walked it before me, and their honesty encourages me to keep going. If I practice the solution, I can find the serenity they have found.

What I am learning is that recovery puts us all on level ground. Nobody gets to stand above anybody else. The person shaking from withdrawal and the person shaking from fear are not so different. Pain is pain, and it seems to be a great motivator for change. My obsessions will make me sick and destroy me if I ignore them. I imitate a confident have-it-together person on the outside but on the inside my thoughts and feelings are quite the opposite. And healing begins when I can merge the two into one. When I stop pretending to be someone on the outside that I am not on the inside, true transformation unfolds. When I focus on what is going on inside of me instead of trying to fix someone else, I feel the weight begin to lift, and I can breathe a lot easier.

The beauty of recovery is that God meets me right in the middle of all this honesty. He does not ask me to be stronger or have it all figured out. He just asks me to be willing. I do not have to arrive. I do not have to impress anyone. I just need to keep showing up as the person I really am, not the version I used to perform. And when I do that, I heal in ways I never expected. I start to become a better version of me. God uses the honesty of other broken people to help me grow, and He uses my honesty to help them. That still amazes me. When I stay open, willing, and connected, I experience the freedom and serenity that is promised.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for loving me, even though You see my heart, the real me. Help me to stop pretending and let go of the need to perform. Give me the courage to be honest, not just with You, but with others and especially myself. Teach me how to be the person You created me to be. Thank You for setting me free and filling me with Your peace. Amen.

Recovery On the Go

God speaks in quiet moments, even behind the steering wheel.

Your ears will hear a command behind you saying, “This is the way. Walk in it.” Isaiah 30:21

Yesterday I had an early morning doctor appointment, and it threw off my whole rhythm. I had to leave the house much earlier than normal, which meant no time for my regular routine. Every morning I grab a cup of coffee, sit in my chair, read, pray, meditate, and get centered. It is my anchor. When I realized I would not have time for any of that, I was frustrated. I had not even thought about how this appointment would affect my morning ritual. I rushed to get ready and headed out the door with my mind still irritated.

As I drove, I felt God prompting me with a question, why was I so bothered and upset by this? I said to myself it was because I missed my devotion time, but inwardly I knew there was something deeper, there always is. As I got quiet, I saw it. It was control and insecurity. My routine helps me feel safe and grounded. Then another new thought came to me. Why not have my “me” time right now while driving? I could not read, but I could still pray. I could still meditate. I could still think about how to live the principles today. That simple shift opened up something new in me. I realized I do not have to be tied to a specific ritual for it to count. I can connect with God and focus on my recovery anywhere, anytime. These tools travel with me. My spiritual life is not limited to one chair and one timeframe.

By the time I reached the appointment, I felt great. I was more centered than when I left the house. I gave myself grace and remembered something important; I have a program. The program does not have me. Routines may help me, but they do not own me. Missing one reading does not mean I failed. It simply means I get to practice flexibility and trust that God meets me wherever I am. If I want, I can always read later. When I am flexible and embrace new ideas, I am learning and growing. I am improving my conscious contact with God. It is when I connect with Him and not a routine that I truly feel safe.

Prayer:

Father, thank You that my recovery tools travel with me. Help me stay flexible and open so I can connect with You anywhere and in any moment. Teach me to trust You more than my routines, and remind me that You always meet me right where I am.

I Didn’t Need Permisssion

Consider yourself challenged.

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that you may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous person avails much. James 5:16

In recovery, I’m learning how to face my hurts, habits, and hang-ups without letting them define me. I’m learning to humble myself and share my struggles with people so that I can be healed from their effects. This is my story from last November, and how powerful the tools of recovery really are in my daily life.

It’s common these days on November 1 for people to start the “30 Days of Giving Thanks Challenge” on Facebook. I really wanted to do it. I thought, “What a great idea! And why didn’t I think of that?” Then came the next thought, “How come no one challenged me? I want to do that.” As the days went by and no one invited me, I felt hurt and angry. In my mind, no challenge meant no invitation. That old feeling of not being good enough kicked in again.

Then I had an epiphany. Why not use the tools I’ve learned in recovery? For me, those tools aren’t just about stopping destructive habits like drinking, drugging, smoking, sexing, or gambling. And yes, those same tools have helped me stop all of that. But I can also use them to help me stop crazy thinking and feeling hurt.

So I can make a choice to join the challenge simply because I want to and because I’m thankful and grateful for so many things in my life. Once I made that decision, it was easier to do. I suddenly had clarity of mind. I saw that it was pride that had kept me from doing it in the first place. Because it wasn’t my idea, I was offended that no one asked me to do it. I thought that if I joined in now, I’d just be doing what everyone else was doing. Like there’s something wrong with that, right? My thinking was jacked up. I mean, I get hurt and mad when I’m not invited to a party I didn’t want to go to in the first place. What?! Don’t laugh! Okay, but just a little.

As soon as I started, I felt the healing come. The hurt started to fade, and peace flooded my mind and soul. The book of James says that when I humble myself and confess my struggles and shortcomings to another person, God gives me His grace, and I am healed. That’s when my prayers become effective.

For anyone else like me who needs an invitation, here it is. Consider yourself challenged.

Temporary Sponsor

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. 2 Corinthians 1:4

Like most of us, when I first came into recovery, I didn’t know what I was doing. I had spent years trying to manage life on my own, and it wasn’t working. I kept hearing in the meetings, “You need a sponsor.” I didn’t know what that really meant or entailed, but the pain was a great motivator and I was ready to stop hurting.

Back then I had met two men that I connected with. One from my traditional recovery group and one from a Christ-centered recovery group I recently started attending. I asked the man from my traditional group to sponsor me, but he said no. That rejection stung, but God was already working behind the scenes. The next week, I asked the other man. He said he’d be my temporary sponsor. At first that too hurt my feelings and felt like more rejection, but I was hurting, and at that point, I didn’t care. I just knew I needed help. What I didn’t realize was that “temporary” would turn into one of the most life-changing commitments I’d ever make.

We began meeting twice a week, once at night to do step work and another morning for coffee and conversation. I didn’t realize it then, but those moments were doing more than teaching me about recovery; they were teaching me how to be honest, accountable, and real. My sponsor didn’t preach at me. He didn’t try to fix me or tell me what to do. He just listened, guided, and modeled the kind of peace I had been missing. He shared pieces of his own story that made me realize I wasn’t alone. For the first time, I felt safe enough to be honest about my past and the pain I had carried for years. Through those early meetings, God began to show me that healing happens in relationship, not isolation. I started to see that He uses people to help people, and that letting someone in didn’t make me weak. It made me human.

Through that process, I began to trust. Not just my sponsor, but God working through him. Each time I opened up, something in me began to change. I started to realize that I didn’t have to have everything figured out. I just needed to be willing. I wasn’t used to that kind of safety or love. It wasn’t about control; it was about surrender. When he challenged me to face myself in the steps, I listened. And slowly, the walls I had built around my heart started to crumble. What began as a temporary arrangement became a lasting foundation. God used one man’s willingness to listen to bring about permanent change in me.

Now I understand that the commitments I make in faith, even small ones, give God room to work in big ways. When I said yes to a “temporary” sponsor, I was really saying yes to healing. God met me in that step of obedience and turned it into transformation.

Prayer

God, thank You for using people to help me when I couldn’t help myself. Thank You for those who guide me with wisdom, grace, and honesty. Help me stay willing to listen, to trust, and to take the next right step You put in front of me. Amen.

Feeling Left Out

God is healing the parts of me that learned to expect disappointment.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

The other day was my daughter’s thirteenth birthday and plans for her party fell through. In my attempt to console her disappointment, it brought up memories I hadn’t thought about in years. My birthday is in December, and for anyone born that month, you probably already know what I’m going to say. For everyone else, let me explain. A December birthday often means you never have a birthday party because it’s “too close to Christmas.” If I heard that once, I heard it a thousand times. I understand now, as an adult, that it’s a busy time of year with family gatherings, work parties, holiday expenses, and a dozen other things. It can be a lot. But as a ten-year-old kid, all I heard was that I wasn’t important enough to celebrate.

Many years I received the “combo gift,” with the line: “This one’s for Christmas and your birthday.” Which usually meant it was a Christmas gift with a different tag. One year I decided to return the favor. My brother’s birthday is in May, so when Christmas came, I handed him a gift with a card that read, “This is for Christmas and your birthday.” He looked confused and said, “But it’s not my birthday.” I said, “Exactly.” He didn’t get it, but I did. I felt left out. Both of my brothers, born in May, had birthday parties almost every single year. I remember my tenth birthday was supposed to be my first real party, where kids from school were invited. I was so excited. Then I came down with the mumps. The party was cancelled, and I never had a birthday party until I was an adult. I was crushed. After that, two things happened. First, I stopped getting my hopes up for anything. I told myself it was better not to expect much, just another broken promise waiting to happen. Second, I became impossible to buy a gift for. I don’t know how to accept a gift graciously, and even if I was given a gift I had always wanted, I still feel left out and hurt. I don’t like that about myself, but it’s the truth. This is one of the things about working recovery, is that I have to face the hard things even when I don’t want to or don’t like what I learn about myself.

I hadn’t realized how much of those childhood hurts are still with me even today until they begin to surface. Every time someone overlooks me or doesn’t notice my effort, it stirs up that feeling of rejection. The good news is that I never have to stay in that state of mind. I can change, and God provides the power to do so. He is healing those broken places and replacing them with His peace and presence. I can’t hope for a happier past, but I can learn and grow from it and expect a happier future.

Prayer:
God, thank You for revealing to me the pain I’ve hidden for so long. Help me face old memories without fear, knowing You are already there. Teach me to receive love without suspicion and kindness without doubt. Thank You for healing my hurts and giving me Your peace in their place. Amen.