Where Do I See God Today?

His Gentle Whisper

I am noticing that God is often working in the small daily moments I usually overlook.

And after the fire came the sound of a gentle whisper. 1 Kings 19:12

Recently my sponsor gave me an assignment that stumped me. Sponsors have a way of doing that, don’t they? He said he wanted me to answer a question. It seemed easy enough. The question was, “Where do you see God in your life today?” At first, I thought that was a simple question for me to answer and would be really quick. I have a close relationship with God. No problem. But when I sat down to actually think about it and write my answer, I got stuck. I think I was expecting some kind of deep spiritual answer. Something dramatic. Some big breakthrough moment or miracle story. Instead, I sat with that question for several days, praying and really thinking about it. Where do I see God in my life today?

My answer surprised me. I wasn’t seeing Him so much in the outward dramatic things. I was seeing Him inwardly, in the small changes happening inside of me. I see Him in my morning routine. In reading recovery literature and my devotional. In listening to recovery messages on my way to work. I see Him through the people who encourage me. And I see Him in the quiet moments where I just pause and think. It reminded me of Elijah in the cave when God showed him His voice wasn’t in the earthquake, the fire, or the wind, but in the still small voice. That’s where I see God today.

What really stood out to me was how much I see God now in the changes happening inside of me. I see Him when I pause instead of immediately reacting. I see Him when I choose not to send the snarky message I was thinking about sending. I see Him in the way my thinking has changed over time. Recovery has helped me become more aware of myself, my motives, my pride, and my tendency to try to control everything. Before recovery, I usually only looked for God in the huge moments of life. Now I’m learning to see Him in the small moments too. Things like when I have peace. When I show restraint. When I gain perspective. When I can see my own growth. And when I don’t insist things have to be done my way and I surrender control. That’s where I see God today.

I also realized something else while thinking about that question. I am usually much harder on myself than God is. I keep thinking I should be doing more, praying more, reading more, writing more, and accomplishing more. There is still a residue of that corrupt core belief that I am not good enough. But I have come so far from where I was when I started. When I honestly look at my life today compared to who I used to be, I can clearly see that God has been working in me this whole time. Not perfectly. Not instantly. But faithfully. He has been changing the way I think, the way I respond, and the way I live. He has been meeting me where I am and bringing me toward where He wants me to be. And maybe that was the answer to my sponsor’s question all along. I no longer only look for God in dramatic miracles. I see Him in the small daily changes happening inside of me. That’s where I see God today. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for helping me see You in my everyday life. Help me to slow down and recognize the ways You are working in me and around me. Teach me to trust the growth process, even when it feels small or slow. Thank You for continuing to change me one day at a time. Amen.

My New Normal

Grateful For Peace

Recovery didn’t just change my habits. It changed what normal feels like.

You, Lord, give true peace to those who depend on You, because they trust You. Isaiah 26:3

When I sat down to write today’s devotional, I was completely stumped. I had nothing. No big realization. No powerful moment. No dramatic story. I started thinking back over my day, trying to figure out what I could possibly write about. But honestly, the day was uneventful. It was just a normal, calm, and peaceful day. Then I sensed that still small voice rising up inside me. I knew that was God revealing to me that most days these days are normal just like this one. And that’s life now. I was so encouraged by that.

I paused and pondered that thought for a minute. My life today is mostly made up of normal days. Quiet days. Peaceful days. Uneventful days. And as I reflected on that, I was so very grateful. A small smile crept across my face. What I now call normal used to seem impossible for me to ever achieve before. It always seemed unattainable. Like a proverbial dangling carrot out in front of me that I could never reach no matter how hard I tried. But somewhere along the way, a real actual change took place in my thinking and in my life.

Before recovery, my normal days were filled with chaos, anger, frustration, disappointment, confusion, and sadness. There was always some kind of crisis, conflict, or emotional exhaustion happening in my life. The peace I occasionally felt was temporary and fleeting. It never lasted. Calmness was unfamiliar and felt very uncomfortable because I was so used to living in survival mode. If my adrenaline wasn’t maxed out I felt like something was wrong. But my recovery program slowly changed all of that. By working the steps with my sponsor, listening to others, applying the principles, and following the recommended solution, my life began to change little by little.

Today, I have a new normal. My new normal is peace. My new normal is calm. My new normal is stability. Not every day is perfect by any means. Life still has its challenges, and some days bring bad news that try to steal my peace. But I have learned that it’s not always what happens that determines whether I keep my peace, but how I respond to it. Most days, though, are no longer filled with chaos and emotional turmoil. They are just normal days. And I am deeply grateful for that. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for the peace You have brought into my life. Thank You that my life is no longer filled with constant chaos and confusion. Help me to continue trusting You and responding to life in healthy ways. Teach me to protect the peace You have given me and not take these normal peaceful days for granted. Amen.

How Important Is It?

Protecting My Peace

One of the greatest gifts of recovery is learning what to let go of.

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. Colossians 3:2

Before recovery, I reacted to almost everything. If someone embarrassed me, challenged me, disrespected me, or hurt my feelings, I usually had one of two responses. I would either lash out and launch into a verbal barrage, using my intellect and vocabulary to hurt and insult people without them even realizing it until they went home and looked up the words I used. Or I would keep it all inside and carry it around for hours, days, or even longer. I replayed conversations and situations over and over in my mind. I built resentments. I lost sleep over things that really were not nearly as important as they felt in the moment.

The other day at my daughter’s softball game, one of the players got upset with me after I asked her to move in a little closer on the infield, something I regularly do with all the players. She started yelling at me, telling me she couldn’t do it. I let it go and figured I would deal with it later. Then her parent came over near the dugout and loudly yelled at me and the other coach, saying that I should not be talking to her daughter and that someone else should be. It was loud enough that everybody in the bleachers heard it. Honestly, it embarrassed me. I acted like I didn’t hear it, but inside I definitely felt it.

In that moment, one of the recovery slogans that has helped me many times over the years came into my mind: How important is it? When the girl and her parent each yelled at me, the first thing that came to mind was this slogan. That might not seem like a big deal to some people, but it is to me because before recovery my instinct would have been to react, defend myself, or lash back out. Instead, I realized this was just an upset child and an upset parent at a softball game. I did not have to let their chaos affect me and steal my peace. I didn’t have to defend myself, react, argue, or make a scene. Recovery has taught me that not every situation deserves my energy. Sometimes the healthiest thing I can do is let it go and keep my peace.

The realization didn’t really stand out to me until the next morning. My wife and daughter both commented on how calm and even tempered I had been in that situation. They noticed that I just let it go and didn’t react. The truth is, I would have never handled something like that this way before recovery. And what means the most to me is that I wasn’t trying to act different or make people think I had changed. I was just being me. That was my new instinct. As I reflected on it, I realized this was not just about one moment at a softball game. Recovery and working the steps have genuinely changed me from the inside out. It also doesn’t eat at me afterward the way it used to. When my mind tries to replay the situation, I just ask myself again, How important is it? And when I do that, I realize it usually is not important at all. I don’t lash out. I don’t lose my peace. I don’t build resentment or lose sleep over it either. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for changing me from the inside out. Thank You that I do not have to react the way I used to. Help me to continue to walk in peace and wisdom. Help me to let go of what is not important and keep my mind focused on You. Amen

Freedom Through Honesty

Seeing What Was Already There

What I thought would destroy me was the very thing that led me to freedom.

You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. John 8:32

Like most people in recovery, I first came because of a broken relationship. I was hoping to learn how to fix it. I remember when I had the aha moment. I was frustrated and telling my sponsor, “I’m getting mixed messages and I’m confused.” He smiled and said to me, “You’re not getting mixed messages. She said plainly she didn’t want to be with you anymore. How is that a mixed message?” I said, “Because we still live together.” He said, “That is not a mixed message. She told you her truth. You just don’t want to believe it.” When he said that, it finally sank in. Almost like it had been there the whole time, but was invisible to me. Looking back, I think he had probably been trying to help me see that for a while. I was so stuck in denial that I could not see it, even from him. I wasn’t confused. I wasn’t lacking information. I was choosing not to believe what was being said to me plainly. That day I realized something I wish I had learned much sooner. When people tell me their truth plainly, I need to believe them. They mean it. I could have saved myself so much frustration, anger, and pain if I had learned that one sooner.

What I slowly began to realize in recovery was that I was not confused nearly as much as I was in denial. Denial had such a grip on me that it was easier to believe what I wanted to be true than what I could clearly see right in front of me. It was almost like I had brainwashed myself into believing my version of reality instead of accepting what was actually happening. Facing reality meant facing pain, grief, and loss, and at the time I did not think I could handle that. I kept hoping things would change. I kept believing that if other people would just change their thinking, change their behavior, or come around to my point of view, then everything would be okay. So I poured enormous amounts of energy into trying to manage outcomes, force conversations, control situations, and hold things together that had already fallen apart. The more I fought reality, the more exhausted, frustrated, angry, and emotionally drained I became. I even pushed away one of the closest friends I ever had because he tried to tell me the truth.

Recovery has taught me to open my eyes and look honestly at what is happening in my own life. What surprised me was that accepting painful truth actually brought me more peace and serenity than denial ever did. What was uncomfortable and painful was actually the very thing that led me to freedom.

As I continued working my recovery, I started realizing this way of thinking went all the way back to my childhood. Growing up in an alcoholic home, pretending things were okay often felt safer than admitting they were not. Denial became normal to me. But recovery taught me that honesty is safer than illusion. Today, I still do not enjoy painful truths or difficult situations, but I try not to explain them away anymore either. I try to face what is real, bring it honestly to God, and trust Him enough to walk me through it instead of hiding from it. I have learned that acceptance brings far more peace than denial ever did. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for bringing me through my denial and revealing the truth to me. Give me the courage to face difficult truths honestly. Help me to trust You in the midst of them. Thank You for the comfort You give me to help me through it. Amen.

The Master Artist

Trusting the Process

God is the Master Artist turning my chaos into something beautiful.

I pray with great faith for you, because I’m fully convinced that the One who began this glorious work in you will faithfully continue the process of maturing you and will put His finishing touches to it until the unveiling of our Lord Jesus Christ! Philippians 1:6

I was meditating and praying about surrendering my will to God. Something that has never come naturally to me, because growing up I learned I couldn’t trust anyone. As I closed my eyes in consecration to God, I suddenly saw this picture in my mind of a white canvas sitting on an easel. But it wasn’t clean and untouched. Paint had been splattered all over it in every direction. Different colors everywhere. It looked messy, chaotic, and completely unorganized. The edges of the canvas were still white, but the middle was a mess. It looked ruined. Like nothing good could ever come from it. My first thought was that it should just be thrown away and started over.

Then I saw a Painter step up to the canvas. Not just any painter, but a Master Artist. He studied the mess closely and then began to work with it. He didn’t throw the canvas away. He didn’t cover it up or pretend the mess wasn’t there. He started shaping the paint already on the canvas. Adding shadows, highlights, texture, and definition. He brought order to what looked random and chaotic. It started becoming something new and intricate. What once looked ruined started becoming beautiful and valuable. By working through the mess already on the canvas, He was creating something new that nobody else could imagine.

That’s when it hit me. God is that Master Artist, and I am that canvas. The paint represents the mess I made of my life. The mistakes. The wrong choices. The regrets. The places where things feel broken, confusing, and out of place. When I look back over my life, sometimes all I see is the mess. My best thinking tells me to quit, give up, or throw the whole thing away. But God doesn’t see my life the way I do. He sees the finished picture. He sees what He had in mind from the very beginning. He is not discouraged by the mess I made, because He already sees the painting He wants to unveil.

I’m learning that surrender is trusting Him as the Artist even when I don’t understand the process. I don’t have to clean the canvas before bringing it to Him. I don’t have to know what the finished picture will be or even look like. I don’t have to figure out how all the colors will fit together. My part is simply to place my life in His hands and trust Him with it. Because God has a way of turning my mess into a masterpiece.

Prayer
Father, thank You for not giving up on me when my life looked like a mess. Help me to trust You with the things I still don’t understand. Teach me to surrender to You and trust what You are doing in me and with me. Amen

One Step at a Time… Again

Back to Basics

Drift doesn’t announce itself. It just shows up quietly. Before I even notice.

So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall! 1 Corinthians 10:12

This week after meeting with my sponsor, I realized something that caught me off guard. For the first time, I hadn’t completed all my work and assignments. I had been so busy that I completely forgot to finish it. It wasn’t a relapse. It wasn’t a slip. It wasn’t even a major issue. But it got my attention. I didn’t like it, not at all. It borderline scared me that I could drift and be completely unaware of it. It made me stop and think. Why did I forget to finish my work? I didn’t even think about it. That’s when I have to stop and be honest with myself. Something has changed, and if I don’t catch it here, it will only grow and get worse.

I’ve learned to pay attention when something feels a little off. I look to see if I’m too busy, a little more distracted, a little less focused, or starting to think maybe the old way could work. That’s when I need to ask myself some questions. Am I still attending the same number of meetings? Am I still doing my step work? Am I still praying and seeking God? When I really look, I usually find something in these basic areas has shifted. It’s a symbiotic relationship. It’s simple cause and effect. When my recovery disciplines start to slip, my thinking soon follows. And vice versa. That awareness has become a check and balance system for me.

This is where this mindset helps me keep going. If I’ve done this before, I can do it again. I don’t have to feel discouraged or beat down. I don’t have to entertain lies. I don’t have to feel like I’ve lost everything. This stuff really works if I apply it to my life. So I go back to the basics, to what got me here. One moment. One hour. One day at a time. That’s how I started, and that’s how I continue. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step… the next right step again.

I don’t say this because I’ve relapsed or slipped. I say this because I don’t want to. I’ve seen this work in my own life. I know that I know that I know that I know that if I do my recovery disciplines, they will work. I feel better about myself. I know I am changing. That brings me peace, happiness, and serenity. That gives me confidence. It allows me to throw my shoulders back, lift my head high, have a smile on my face, and keep going on. My life isn’t over. I’m still moving forward. I’m still growing. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for helping me see when things start to drift. Help me stay aware and honest with myself. Show me where I’ve slipped and give me the willingness to go back to the basics. Keep me grounded in the disciplines that brought me here. I don’t want to go backward. I want to keep moving forward with You, one step at a time. Amen.

When I Changed, Everything Changed

From Control to Peace

The change I was chasing didn’t start with them. It started with me.

First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside will also be clean. Matthew 23:26

I was listening to a newcomer share their story, and it brought me back to when I first came into recovery. I can still remember all the times I tried to fix the addiction of my qualifier. I destroyed their drug of choice. I left books, articles, and magazines out on the coffee table, opened to the exact page I wanted them to read. I underlined lines so they would see it. I left Bibles open with verses highlighted, hoping something would finally click. I knew that I could not change them. Any change would have to come from their own self-awareness. I was hoping my “hints” would nudge them and help them discover it on their own, that they needed to change. These were my hints about the damage addiction was causing, not just to them, but to our relationship and our family.

At the time, I was at my wits end. I was depressed, alone, sad, and angry. My life and family were falling apart. In recovery, we call that out of control and unmanageable. I really thought I was helping. I thought if they would just change, everything would be better. I would be happy. Our life would be better. Our family would be whole. I believed the solution was to fix them. I see now that what I called helping was really control and manipulation.

Since working through the steps of recovery, I have discovered how I used these same tactics in my dealings with other people, not just the addict. Friends, coworkers, subordinates, supervisors, customers, basically everyone I met. I was trying to get them to do what I wanted, what I thought was best. I did this through manipulation and control. I may have gotten an initial response, but seldom did it ever stick, and many times resentment was left behind. I was always left frustrated. I have learned that this was a form of pride showing up because of my low self-esteem. I didn’t think I was good enough, so I overcompensated by making myself, in my own eyes, the one with the answers. I felt uncomfortable not knowing how to deal with situations where I wasn’t in control. Trying to be in control of everything and everyone is what made me feel safe.

Recovery has taught me to focus on me so that I can have peace and happiness even in the middle of chaos. That kind of thinking wasn’t immediate. I didn’t come into recovery wanting to change myself. I wanted to change the situation. By that, I mean I wanted to change them. I thought I was right and they were wrong, and that became my problem. Over time, attending meetings, working the steps, and meeting with my sponsor, something started to shift. I began to see things differently. Think differently. And because of that, I began to experience the peace I had been chasing. Even though the other person didn’t change at all, I changed. I just noticed one day things looked different. They were suddenly better. I felt different. I was happy. I started liking who I was. That was a first. When I changed, everything else changed. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for leading me to recovery. Thank You for showing me things I couldn’t see before. Help me to keep focusing on my part. Help me stop trying to control everything and everyone else. Teach me how to trust You fully. I surrender to You and Your will. Keep changing me from the inside out. Amen.

Practicing Sobriety in All Areas

Small Changes Matter

Recovery isn’t just emotional. It shows up in how I live every day.

I discipline my body and keep it under control so that after preaching to others I myself will not be disqualified. 1 Corinthians 9:27

Several weeks ago I woke up feeling off. I was off-balance, nauseous, and dizzy. I didn’t know why. It caught me off guard and honestly, it scared me. I did a little reading and found it could be something as simple as dehydration, exhaustion, or poor diet. I had stayed up way too late the night before and hadn’t eaten or drunk any water, so it made sense to me. But it still scared me. I drank some water, had a light snack, and laid down for a nap. When I woke up, I felt much better. I wasn’t quite 100%, but I knew something wasn’t right before, and something needed to change. As I thought about it more, I started to realize this is part of my recovery too. I saw that I could practice sobriety in my physical habits, not just my emotional life.

It was a wake-up call for me. I’ve known for a while, and I’ve even written about it, that I need more sleep. I need to eat better. I need to exercise. But knowing it and doing it are two different things. I might have had a day or two where I got enough rest. A day or two where I ate better. Once in a while, I even tried to exercise. But there was no consistency. And the truth is, this is just as much a part of my recovery as the emotional healing. It’s not a sickness. It’s a lifestyle. Habits. Bad habits.

The 12 steps gave me a practical, structured way to deal with my emotional life. They helped me face things, process them, and begin to heal. There was a decision, followed by a process of small actions. I finally saw that I needed that same kind of structure in my physical life too. Not because something is wrong with me, but because something needs to change. I can’t keep living one way and expect to feel another. This isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being intentional.

So I made a decision to put structure in place. I created a schedule and committed to follow it. It included set times for bed, waking up, connecting with God, exercise, and writing, and a conscious choice to eat better. This was my personal structure, not counting everyday life, work, or responsibilities. This was about me learning to be healthy in my body as well as my soul.

So far it’s been working, and I feel so much better. I’m recognizing my progress in this area and not demanding perfection from myself. I’m not expecting overnight change, and I’m not going to beat myself up if I slip. I’m taking one step at a time, one day at a time, and I keep moving forward. I am breaking old habits and replacing them with new ones. One thing I didn’t expect is how much my self-esteem has grown. I feel better about myself and who I am. That’s the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for showing me what I need to change. Help me to follow through and not just know what to do. Give me strength to discipline my body in my daily habits. Teach me how to take care of this body You’ve given me. Amen.

I’m Not Who I Was

Not Defined By My Past

My identity isn’t who I was then. It’s who I am now.

If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.
2 Corinthians 5:17

I’ve lived long enough to know what it feels like to be hurt. I’ve experienced difficulties, pain and trauma, even some health issues and concerns. People have hurt and mistreated me. I have been tricked, lied to and taken advantage of. I have survived experiences that left a lasting mark. They’ve caused wounds, and those wounds have left scars behind. But none of those things define me. They are unfortunately just the toll of life.

What I love about recovery is that it gives me practical tools and new skills to use. They help me heal and recover from the wounds and scars. It’s not salve that magically heals everything, nor is it a catch-all for every problem or situation. But it provides me with a different way of thinking. It teaches me to approach life differently. I am not a victim. I am not damaged or broken. I am not ruined or irreparable because of the things that have happened to me. Instead, I approach life as a whole person who has had bad things happen to me. And when I see myself that way, I’m able to confront, deal with and recover from the damage that was left behind.

I call that emotional collateral damage. It is what has happened to me as a result of the trauma and abuse that I experienced as a child. Those wounds, although sometimes still very painful, can be healed completely. It’s not like a surgery where they go in and remove the problem organ, and it’s all gone in one moment. This kind of healing is a process. It takes time. The damage and scars didn’t develop suddenly overnight and they’re not going to go away suddenly overnight either. This is what the Bible describes as the renewing of the mind and the saving of the soul. It’s a process that takes time as I grow into the full nature of a child of God.

And that’s where I live today. I’m not pretending those things didn’t happen, but I’m not letting them define me anymore either. I’m learning how to deal with what’s been left behind, one layer at a time. Sometimes that looks like choosing a different response when I feel hurt. Sometimes it’s simply talking about what I’m feeling instead of holding it in. Some days are harder than others. Some wounds are still tender and hurt when something hits them. But I’m not stuck there like I used to be. I’m healing. Not all at once, but steadily. I’m not who I was, and I’m not stuck where I’ve been. I’m moving forward into what God has for me.

Prayer
Father God, thank You for being my healer. Help me to face the hurts from my past instead of avoiding them. Give me strength to walk through them. Guide me and help me as I continue moving forward in You. Amen.

A Blank Canvas

What Will I Paint Today?

Today hasn’t happened yet. I get to choose how it unfolds.

I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life… Deuteronomy 30:19

In my reading time this morning, I came across something that stuck with me. It said today is a day full of hours and minutes in which nothing has happened. I haven’t made any mistakes. I haven’t suffered any trouble. As I paused and meditated on those thoughts, I closed my eyes and saw a blank white canvas sitting on an easel, and I was the painter. The canvas was clean, open, and untouched. Just waiting for something to be painted on it. And I sensed God asking me, “What do you want to paint today?” That question felt bigger than I expected. It literally stopped me. At first my mind went blank, just like that canvas. Completely empty. I thought I have absolutely no idea what to paint. Am I even qualified to make such a big decision?

Then it hit me. This is my life. What do I want to see in it today? No wonder I used to feel like a victim. I wasn’t choosing anything. I was reacting to whatever came at me. The day painted itself, and I was just along for the ride. That’s what made life feel unmanageable and out of control. But today is different. I actually do get to choose what goes on this canvas. I get to choose the colors. I can paint peace or panic. Patience or frustration. I can reach for the same old colors like fear, resentment, and avoidance, or I can try something different like gratitude, honesty, and pausing before I react. Some days it feels easier to grab the familiar colors. They may not look good, but I know how to use them. But recovery is teaching me I don’t have to default to them anymore.

What feels new to me is that God is even asking me that question in the first place. What do you want to paint? I never used to think that way. I used to think everything was already decided. Like I didn’t really have a choice. Life just happened to me and I had to deal with it. That kind of thinking kept me stuck. It kept me reacting instead of choosing. But recovery has shown me something different. I do have choices. God has shown me that I have a say in what my life looks like today. The rest of my life is a blank canvas that has not been painted yet. It has not yet been determined. I get to choose how I respond. I get to choose which direction to go. And I get to do that without guilt. Realizing that is freedom. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for showing me that I have a choice. That You have given me that freedom. Help me slow down and choose wisely. Lead me and guide me each step of the way. Amen.

How I Stay Safe

Noticing The Little Things

I didn’t notice it… until it wasn’t there.

Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out. Proverbs 10:9

When I got out of the shower this morning, I stepped onto the floor and my foot slipped. For a moment I thought I was going to fall and hit my head on the tub. It scared me. It caught me off guard. I’ve never done that before. I wondered, why did I slip? I shower every day, and I had never slipped like that before. Then I realized something. The mat that’s normally outside the shower wasn’t there. My wife had taken it to wash it. I’m grateful she takes care of those things, but it hit me. That mat has been there every day, keeping me from slipping, and I’ve never once really noticed it. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t appreciate it. Until it wasn’t there.

It made me start thinking about how many things in my life are like that. The small, consistent things that I don’t pay attention to, but they’re actually holding me up and keeping me safe. In my recovery, it’s things like: my daily time with God, journaling, attending meetings, talking things out, sharing honestly. None of those feel big in the moment. They just feel like part of my daily routine. But I’ve noticed when they’re missing, that’s when I start to slip, just like I did on that floor. That’s when I feel it. I’m not always aware and grateful in the moment for them. I just expect them to be there.

Today I’m grateful for the little things. The things that don’t get noticed but make all the difference. The things that keep me grounded and from falling back into old patterns. They may seem small, but they’re not. They are what keep me safe, and keep me from slipping, just like that mat did. They are the important things. And when I stay consistent with them, I don’t just avoid slipping, I stay safe and I keep growing. And that’s the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, thank You for the little things in my life that I don’t even notice. The things that keep me safe. Help me stay aware, stay consistent, and not take them for granted. Help me continue doing the small things every day that keep me safe. Amen.

Putting It Into Practice

I used to look down on devotionals… now I’m writing one. God has a sense of humor.

God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble. James 4:6

When I was early in my walk with the Lord, I used to look down on people who read daily devotionals. I thought that they were less spiritual. That they didn’t know how to read the Bible for themselves or seek God for themselves. They needed a book to guide them. It was pride and arrogance. I won’t deny that.

When I got into recovery, I leaned on those daily devotionals. They helped me to see things differently. They introduced ideas and concepts to me that I had never thought about. Many times reinforcing beliefs I already had but didn’t know how to put into practice at the time. And by reading about how someone else had dealt with something, it gave me an example or a model to try. And I found much success in doing so.

God has a sense of humor. This past year I have felt inspired and led by Him to write devotionals, which I’m doing. He has also shown me how they will be developed into a 365 day, daily devotional book. These postings on social media are a sample of those writings. I find that I’m growing more in writing them too. I feel like I now have an outlet for sharing with others the things He is revealing in me and has shown me. That was something that had previously frustrated me for many years. The feeling that I had all these deposits from Him inside me with no one to share them with.

I’m thankful that God never gave up on me. That He led me and guided me all the way. Even when I was obstinate and difficult. When I was rebellious. He was there the whole time. He was taking whatever I would give Him and working with it. I’m grateful that He led me to recovery where I found the balance between spiritual insight and practical application. I love Him so much for that. And when I reflect on how He’s now using me to write daily devotionals, I see His sense of humor being displayed in my life.

Prayer
Father, thank You for never giving up on me. Thank You for showing me how to put into practice and share what You are showing me. Amen.

Not Doing What I Believe

A simple question exposed something deeper in me.

If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them. John 13:17

I recently had someone ask me a question that challenged my faith and my beliefs. They weren’t doing it intentionally. They simply asked a question about something I wrote in my book. I thought about it for a moment. It was such a simple question: “What is your gift?” I was silenced. I had no response. I was stuck trying to grasp the question. I thought, What is my gift? I told them how God has used me in the past, but I was dumbfounded to come up with an answer to that question as it relates to me now.

Why was it so hard for me to answer that question? It’s because inside, I know I am not doing my gift. I’m not walking in what I feel God wants me to do. And that’s why I had no answer. I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to make something up. I didn’t want to be dishonest. So instead of saying something that I may no longer believe or that I no longer see in my life, I was silent. Finally, I answered with the gifts God has given me, and I thought about how active those really are in my life today. And what I came up with was this: I am not doing what I believe. That was hard to swallow. Very hard. I didn’t need to do any writing about this one. I didn’t need to pray and seek God about it either. I already knew I wasn’t surrendering all areas of my life to God.

I’m grateful that recovery teaches me to look at my progress and not perfection. So I don’t beat myself up or condemn myself for not being perfect or for not surrendering every area of my life to God at one time. Today, I’m thankful that I saw another area in my life that I can surrender. This one’s going to take some time though. It’s not going to be easy either, because it deals with my core beliefs and values. But I’m confident that God is faithful, and just as He showed me this area to surrender, He will provide me the wisdom and strength to do so as well.

Prayer
God, help me surrender all areas of my life to You and live what I truly believe. Give me the strength and courage to face and overcome the obstacles that hinder me from doing so. Help me to do Your will. Amen.

Seeking Approval

God Has Already Given It

I’m learning to stop chasing approval from people who may never give it… and instead lean into the approval God has already given me.

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Galatians 1:10

Why do I seek approval from those who don’t or won’t give it? And yet I discount or dismiss approval from those who do? Why does the approval I can’t get seem to matter more than the approval I already have? When I think about it, the ones I am seeking approval from are parent figures and authority figures. And the ones who are willing to give it, I tend to dismiss or minimize, because they’re not the ones I’m seeking approval from.

This awareness doesn’t solve my problem, nor does it fix it. But it does cause me to realize that it’s a me issue and not a them issue. Granted, those parental figures who refuse to give approval have a part to play, but that’s their part. That’s not always easy for me to accept. I want it to be about them. I want them to change so I can feel better. That would be a lot easier. But by working the steps of recovery, I’m learning that I need to focus on my part. I cannot change them, no matter how hard I try. Trying only leaves me frustrated and puts me in a position where I’m tempted to manipulate and control to get my emotional needs met. My feelings get hurt and I feel less than again. That’s all about me.

Recovery has helped me climb out of that pit. By focusing on myself and what I can do. By focusing on what is within my power, and what I need to do to see that change happen. I know I have God’s approval, and when I think about that, it helps me keep things in perspective. Who is more of an authority or parental figure than God? If I have His approval, then I don’t need theirs the same way. I don’t have the solution for this right now. I only have a guide that leads me down a path toward peace. I realize this is about me and my core issues. I sometimes still feel less than and need approval. And because I can see that, I know the solution also lies within me, even if I’m not fully aware of it yet. But I have hope. Because of the tools and principles I’ve learned in recovery, and because of God helping me, I know I won’t stay stuck here. He will help me change.

Reflection
What would change if I truly believed I already have God’s approval?

A Different Approach

Peace Instead of Pressure

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

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

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

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

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

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