Perfectly Human

Accepted without having to prove it

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

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

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

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

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

Hearing With My Heart

Listening To Understand

People’s thoughts can be like a deep well, but someone with understanding can find the wisdom there. Proverbs 20:5

Last week at work, a colleague and I had different ideas about how to solve a situation. We both thought we were right, and we both dug in a little. A couple of days later, they hinted that they were open to trying something different. The part that got me was that their new idea sounded vaguely similar to what I had originally suggested. I thanked them and started to walk away, but they stopped me and asked, “Really? You’re going to let it go that easily?” That question hit me harder than I expected. Inside, I realized that I was waiting for something else. I wanted them to acknowledge it the way I wanted it said. I wanted the neat little package with a bow on top. I wanted them to acknowledge that they were acquiescing. It took me a minute, but I finally realized that I was letting my pride get in the way of working together.

Recovery is teaching me that my way is not the only way, and sometimes not even the best way. I am learning that expecting people who are not doing recovery work to act or communicate with the same tools I am learning is unrealistic. Not everyone speaks directly. Not everyone apologizes clearly. Not everyone labels their thoughts or feelings the way I am learning to. Some people hint, imply, or suggest things in their own way. When I expect them to say it the way I want it said, and they do not, I end up feeling hurt or frustrated. I start listening to my pride instead of staying open minded. Pride tells me that if the words do not match my preferred version, then I am being disrespected. I start thinking they are trying to manipulate me, and sometimes they might be. But most of the time, that is just my old way of thinking trying to sneak back in, not my recovering mind.

What I am discovering is that I need to listen beneath the surface. I need to hear what is being communicated, not just how it is phrased. My colleague was trying to apologize, even though they never came out and said that. They were agreeing with my idea. They were offering movement. They were offering collaboration. And I almost missed it. Pride has a way of narrowing my view and making me judge the package instead of recognizing the gift. God helps me apply the principles of recovery to slow down, breathe, and look again. When I do that, I can hear what is actually being communicated and not just what is spoken. In this way I am becoming open minded and learning to live at peace with others.

Prayer: God, help me hear people with humility and understanding. Teach me to listen beneath the surface, to recognize the heart behind the words, and to stay open to the wisdom You are showing me. Help me let go of my old thinking and walk in peace with those around me. Amen.

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.