Right Here, Right Now

Learning to live in the moment.

This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be happy today. Psalm 118:24

I remember the first time I really understood what it meant to be double minded. Scripture says that a double minded person is unstable in all his ways, but for years that felt more like a concept than something practical. One Sunday I was sitting in church listening to a guest speaker. To be honest, I was not that interested. Then my phone buzzed with a text from a family member. I picked my phone to read it. They were asking about dinner plans that evening. I immediately heard something inside me say, “Are you present, or are you being double minded?” It stopped me in my tracks. That was my aha moment. Double minded wasn’t just about the Bible or my beliefs about God, it was about how I engage in everyday life. I realized being present meant my mind and my body needed to be in the same place at the same time. My body was sitting in church, but my mind was somewhere else. I decided to put action to this new understanding. So, I set my phone down, turned it face down so I wouldn’t be tempted and distracted. I asked God to help me get something, even one thing, from what was being shared. I did. But the real lesson that day was not the sermon. It was the calmness inside my mind that stayed with me.

What struck me later was how ironic it was. I had spent years in church trying to grasp spiritual truths like this, yet it did not really come alive until after I started recovery. When it did, it was like a dam bursting open. I began to see how often my mind drifted away from where my body was. Practicing the principles of recovery has helped me put practical application to spiritual ideas like this. It was like there was another layer of denial I had never realized was being peeled away. I saw how I was still escaping in my mind from where I was physically. I would replay a past event, trying to rewrite the outcome somehow, or worry about the future and how to control it. My mind was everywhere except where my feet were planted. In reality, it was exhausting. I had never noticed before how rarely I was actually present in my own life.

Learning to keep my mind where my body was took practice, and at first it was hard. But the more I made a conscious effort to keep my thoughts focused on what was happening in front of me, the more I started to notice God working right there. Many times I received answers to things I had been praying about. Staying in the moment brought a peace and calmness that felt almost tangible. My mind was no longer rehearsing future conversations or trying to rebuild a happier past. I was right here, right now. And when I was fully present, I actually enjoyed where I was and the people around me. I decided to be there for a reason, so I started to let my mind be there too. I began to notice the laughter, the quiet, and the simple moments of everyday life opening up like a bouquet of roses that had been there all along, just waiting for me to stop and smell.

Reflection
Where do I tend to escape in my mind when I feel uncomfortable or bored?

I Was Really Fighting Myself

I wasn’t being attacked spiritually. I was being triggered. That changed my perspective.

We demolish arguments and every proud thing that is raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to obey Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5

I recently had someone do something mean and hurtful to me. It hurt very much and I was angry as well as hurt. I began to process that. Then Ephesians 6:12 came to mind. I am not wrestling against flesh and blood, but wicked spiritual forces. My first instinct was familiar. I told myself, My problem is not with this person but with the spiritual forces influencing them. I began to pray the way I had many times before, praying for this person to be free from the evil spirits causing them to act that way. I was sincere. I wanted relief. I wanted justice. Mostly, I wanted the pain to stop.

In the middle of that prayer, a sudden and different thought interrupted me. I knew it was the Holy Spirit because it was calm, clear, simple and it brought peace. Instead of binding the spirit governing him, why not bind the spirit governing you? I resisted that at first. I wasn’t the one who caused the hurt. I wasn’t the one acting out. Then I was made aware. I was the one who was hurt. I was the one offended. I was the one angry. My thinking was being influenced, affecting my emotions and my behaviors.

I saw recovery here. I wasn’t being attacked. I was being triggered. My buttons were being pushed. I was reacting, rehearsing the offense, and letting resentment take up space in my mind. I finally saw it. I had been trying to control someone else instead of practicing self-control. I was asking God to change someone else’s behavior instead of asking Him to change mine. I have learned in recovery that I can have peace in the midst of chaos. I don’t have to succumb to hurt, anger and resentment. I can give them over to God and allow peace and love fill its place. This is about me and my core issues.

I see spiritual warfare differently now. Instead of praying that God will change someone else, I pray that God will help me see what I can do to change the way I’m thinking. I ask Him to help me forgive and walk in love so I don’t hold onto grudges or resentments. That’s where recovery shows up for me. I do step work to keep me from staying hurt, angry, or resentful. This is what spiritual warfare looks like in real life. It’s using self-control instead of control. It’s spiritual recovery in action.

Prayer
God, help me when I am hurt to get control of my thoughts. Show me what needs to change in me so I don’t become angry or resentful. Reveal to me my part and give me wisdom to know how to change. I ask for Your strength to walk in love and to forgive. Amen.

As I Understood Him

Recovery didn’t change God… it changed how I saw Him.

You have begun to live the new life, in which you are being made new and are becoming like the One who made you. This new life brings you the true knowledge of God. Colossians 3:10

I used to think that since I am already a believer in Jesus, I did not need any steps except One, Jesus. I clung to the phrase “Jesus and me, we make a majority”. I thought that embracing the 12 Steps was literally taking a step down to a lower level of reality. My belief not only made it hard for me to walk into the rooms in the first place, but I resisted it so much that I encouraged others to resist it too. When I did finally come to recovery, I was very cautious and skeptical because I struggled with the wording of Step Three. “We surrender our life and will to the care of God as we understood Him”. I got stuck on that phrase. I was not open minded. I thought it was suggesting that I could create a God of my own making. I thought it was saying I could invent my own version of God, and that is idolatry. It felt completely wrong to me.

Over time, as I listened and meditated and thought about the wording, something softened in me. I realized I had been hearing what I thought it said and what I may have heard others say instead of what it actually said. It did not say the God of my understanding. It said God as I understood Him. That one small shift in wording opened something big inside me. That realization took a weight off me I did not even know I was carrying. It dawned on me. It was not saying that I was creating a different God or my own God. It meant I was growing in how I understood the same God I had always believed in. He has not changed. He has always been the same. But the way I saw Him began to change. My old ideas and the fears that I had attached to God started breaking down. Instead of seeing Him as strict, disappointed, or waiting for me to mess up, I began to see Him through the lens of grace. The Bible says it is by grace we are saved. And although I knew that intellectually, because of my thinking, I still perceived Him as a God of judgment and felt like I could never get His approval because I was not good enough.

Now my understanding of God looks different than it did back then. I see Him as loving and gentle and patient with me. I see Him offering forgiveness, compassion, and second chances that never run out. He gives unlimited do overs. I see Him accepting me as I really am, not as how I think I should be. I no longer feel like I have to earn His approval. And the more my understanding changes, the more peace I feel. Now I breathe easier, especially in moments when I catch myself lifting my head a little higher, throwing my shoulders back, and smiling because I feel safe with Him. Recovery has not changed God. Recovery has changed how I perceive Him, and that change has changed everything. I now accept that He brings me comfort, hope, and joy that I did not have before.

Reflection: What old beliefs about God do I need to let go of so I can live the new life He is forming in me?

Scraping Ice

Sometimes clarity starts with doing the things I don’t want to do.

We can’t allow ourselves to get tired of living the right way. Galatians 6:9

One of my “favorite“ things to do in the winter is scraping the ice off the windshield of my car every morning. I say that tongue in cheek because it is one of my least favorite things. I stand there in the cold, hands hurting, clothes getting wet and wishing the ice would magically just disappear. I am a hot weather person and I would take a hot sunny day over a cold day every single day and twice on Sunday. If I was to say I hate cold weather I don’t think that would be too strong a word. As I was begrudgingly clearing my windows of this loathsome task, I started thinking about other things in my life that I don’t like to do, but I do them anyway. It is frustrating, inconvenient, and uncomfortable… but the payoff is greater than the pain. In this case the windshield clears. My day moves forward. The discomfort has a purpose and eventually passes.

I started thinking about how recovery has been the same way. There were things I didn’t want to face, and for years I avoided them. I pretended they weren’t there, hoping they would melt on their own. My sponsor once told me that in order to recover I needed “face everything and recover.” That was his acronym for fear, and apparently I had a lot of it and didn’t see it in myself. I didn’t like it, but I needed it. I have learned that the only way out is through. I couldn’t run, hide, ignore, or avoid anymore. I had to face the decisions, the conversations, the truths, the parts of myself I didn’t want to see. Moment by moment and a little bit at a time.

Today I’m grateful because, by working the steps, I can now confront those things that I avoided and ran from before. I am learning how to face the challenges in front of me one by one. I try to focus on doing what’s right for today, and trust that God will handle the outcomes. This allows me to take in grace with each breath and let out fear with each exhale. And little by little, I am seeing things more clearly.

Prayer: Father, thank You for helping me face the things I would rather avoid. Give me the strength to keep doing what is right even when it feels uncomfortable. Help me trust that each step forward matters and that You are clearing my view as I keep moving. Amen.

Doing His Job

Trusting the One who sees the road.

So we are convinced that every detail of our lives is continually woven together for good… Romans 8:28

I read a post on social media where someone was upset about driving on the highway behind a highway patrol officer. The officer was going about five miles over the speed limit for thirty or forty miles, and all the traffic moved at his pace. What bothered the person was not that traffic was crawling, but that it was not moving fast enough for their liking. The officer was criticized for being unreasonable and inconsiderate. What stood out to me was that the officer was doing exactly what his job required. Highway patrol is literally in the name. He was hired to manage traffic, keep it flowing safely, and look out for the public’s best interest, whether it was appreciated or not.

At first, I thought the complaint sounded unrealistic. The officer was already above the speed limit and clearly focused on safety and flow. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw myself. I get frustrated when things do not move at the pace I expect. I want answers, progress, healing, or change to happen faster. When they do not, I question the process. Sometimes I question God. Why are You not going faster? Why does this feel stalled? Why am I still here? Just like the driver on the highway, I focus on my urgency instead of the bigger picture unfolding in front of me.

What I have to keep reminding myself is that God is doing His job too. He is not passive or absent. He is guiding, protecting, and keeping things moving in ways I may not recognize in the moment. Just because I do not like the pace does not mean nothing is happening. It does not mean I am not moving, growing, or making progress. Acceptance, for me, is trusting that God sees the whole road when I only see my lane. He sees what lies ahead, what I cannot yet see. It means trusting that He is working things out for my good, even when progress feels slower than I want. When I let go of my expectations for how fast life should move, I begin to notice that His peace is already here, right where I am. I am still moving forward, still growing, even when it does not feel like it.

Prayer
God, thank You for continually looking out for my best interest and leading me. Help me accept and understand that Your pace is keeping me safe. Give me Your peace and grace to trust that You are guiding me, even when I am not aware. Thank You for working things out for my good. Amen.

Willingness and Goodwill

How God prepared my heart long before I was willing.

The steps of a good person are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Psalm 37:23

After leaving the ministry, I struggled to find a job in a way I never had before. I was depressed and it showed. One friend told me he knew who I was and what I was capable of, but he would never hire me because I was such a downer. That hurt, but it was true. I needed to pick myself up. At first, I did it outwardly, not because I felt better, but because I needed to function. Eventually, I was hired as a manager with Goodwill Industries. I had no idea what I would really be doing there or the impact it would have on me and my perspective. Looking back, I can see now that God was leading me toward healing and wholeness, even though I was not aware of it at the time.

Working at Goodwill changed me in ways I did not expect. I worked with people who were disadvantaged or disabled, many of whom were learning very basic life and work skills. Things like setting an alarm clock, showing up on time, and being ready to work mattered more than resumes or ambition. As I walked alongside them, something began to shift in me. I was no longer as dogmatic or critical toward those I once viewed as less fortunate. I started seeing them as equals. It does not please me to admit this, but it is the truth, and my healing and recovery depend on me being honest. I began to accept and listen to others. I became willing to consider possibilities I had never allowed before. I met and became friends with people whose beliefs were completely opposite of mine, yet I discovered we often valued the same things, just for very different reasons. I became aware of my tendency to prejudge people and made a conscious effort to stop. Over time, I broke free from the suffocating grip of being judgmental. I thought God gave me that job so I could help others, but I can see now that God placed me there so others could help me. God used them to transform me.

What I could not see then was how much that season was preparing me. At the time, I had completely rejected recovery. I openly refuted it and even spoke against it in my teachings and sermons. I was certain it was unnecessary. And yet, I was working every day with people who were in recovery, watching them learn basic skills, rebuild their lives, and move forward in practical ways. Somehow, I overlooked that. I did not connect the dots. I can see now that God was placing me close enough to recovery to witness its fruit, but not yet willing to accept it for myself. That season softened me. It humbled me. It slowed me down. It did not change everything, and it did not lead me straight into recovery. But it created a crack. The hardness around my heart and the walls around my thinking began to weaken. Nearly ten years later, when I finally hit my bottom, I was no longer as closed as I once had been. God had been preparing me long before I was willing to admit I needed help.

Prayer
Father, thank You for leading me patiently, even when I could not recognize it at the time. Thank You for using ordinary work and ordinary people to soften my heart and reshape my thinking. Help me trust that You are still guiding me, one step at a time, even when I do not yet understand where You are leading. Amen.

My Conscious Contact With God

Conscious Contact: Choosing connection over perfection

Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and power to carry that out. Step Eleven

I was sitting in a meeting, and like we always do, we read through the Twelve Steps at the beginning. I have heard them hundreds, maybe thousands of times. But this time, Step Eleven landed differently. The wording stood out to me in a way it never had before. This statement seems so simple, but it is profound and powerful. I was also very thankful that this is Step Eleven and not Step One. I would not have been able to do this at the beginning. I did not have the honesty, the humility, or the willingness yet. But now, at this stage, I can see it more clearly. If I could have lived Step Eleven from the start, I would have. I tried but I could not. I did not know how and I was not ready yet.

What stood out most to me was the simplicity of what this step is really asking. I am not praying for outcomes, control, or relief from discomfort. I am seeking God, asking only for the knowledge of His will for me and asking for the power to carry it out. That means I am learning how to be a better person, how to have peace, and how to respond instead of react. It means asking God to do for me what I cannot do for myself. Asking Him to reveal to me what I do not see and what I do not yet know. To give me strength where I am weak. Sometimes that comes as insight, inspiration, correction, or simply a nudge to change something I have been avoiding. This is not about perfection. It is about direction. It is about connection. It is a lifelong pursuit of peace, experienced both in the temporal and the eternal. It doesn’t get any simpler. And it doesn’t get any better than that.

Step Eleven is placed exactly where it belongs. After I have worked through the other steps, honesty, humility, surrender, responsibility, and service begin to manifest in me. As I let go of resentment, hurt, and pain, I realize that I am worthy of accepting and giving love. Then I am clear and free to seek God and try to carry this message to others. I cannot give away something I am not living. I cannot carry a message if I am not seeking God myself. As I seek Him, I experience peace, healing, and freedom, just as promised in the recovery solution. And then I am equipped to share a real lived message with others. Not theory. Not advice. Experience.

Show me Your ways, O Lord; Teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth and teach me, For You are the God of my salvation; On You I wait all the day. Psalm 25:4–5

Wherever I Go

There are meetings everywhere.

One God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Ephesians 4:6

Whenever I travel anywhere, I make it a point to find a local meeting. I’ve been to meetings in many different places, New York, Oregon, Ohio, and California. Sometimes the meeting was in a church basement, a school classroom, or even a hospital annex. I’ve been to AA, NA, Al-Anon, Nar-Anon, ACOA, Celebrate Recovery, and group therapist-led recovery meetings. But in all these different settings, what always amazed me was how familiar each one felt. The moment I walked in, I saw different surroundings, different faces, different voices, and different towns, but the same hurts and the same desire to be free. The same readings, the same steps, the same language of hope and honesty.

What I’ve learned from all those experiences is that recovery works anywhere because truth works everywhere. The settings and the people may change, but the principles of recovery remain the same. They’re not limited by geography or personality. They work because they’re based on God’s Word, and He’s the One behind the healing and restoration process. The people and the rooms might look different on the outside, but on the inside we’re all just people looking for help, trying to be free from pain. We’re all experiencing similar feelings.

Today I’m grateful that I can find a meeting even when I’m not at home. There’s safety in knowing that wherever I go, and whichever meeting I find, the same principles are being practiced by people who are trying to find the same solutions I am. I’m not alone in this journey. The rooms may look different, but the message is always the same. God’s grace is there, working through people, helping us all heal one day at a time.

Prayer

Father, thank You for being the same wherever I go. Thank You for showing me that recovery works because You are working in it. Help me keep doing the work, staying honest, and trusting You to bring healing and restoration in every place and every life. Amen.

My Path Toward Freedom

Peace isn’t found in fixing others.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1

Living in freedom didn’t happen all at once for me. It came in small, bite-sized pieces, a series of subtle shifts that I didn’t even notice until I stopped and looked back. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in recovery has been learning to stop giving unsolicited advice. It sounds simple, but after a lifetime of trying to fix everyone and everything around me, it wasn’t easy. At first, I didn’t even notice when I was doing it. I’d walk away from a conversation and realize, maybe hours or days later, that I’d offered my opinion when nobody asked. Then I started noticing it sooner, right after I said something, and almost always regretting it, wishing I had kept my mouth shut. It was humbling, and usually embarrassing.

Over time, my awareness started showing up sooner. I’d catch myself in the middle of talking; it was surreal, like watching the words come out of my mouth and wishing I could grab them and pull them back in. That was a strange, uncomfortable season; my mouth was on autopilot, advertising the brokenness in my heart. But I noticed it was progress, because I was becoming aware while it was happening instead of hours later. Eventually, I started recognizing the thoughts in my head, and I’d say to myself, “No one asked for your opinion!” That simple reminder started to change everything. I began stopping the words before they could escape from my lips. Just as the Just for Today bookmark reminded me, “I will not try to improve or regulate anybody but myself,” I didn’t have to fix, rescue, or manage anyone else. My job was to focus on me and let God handle the rest.

Learning to keep my nose on my own face brought me a kind of peace I didn’t even know I was missing. I no longer felt the need to get everyone else to do things my way, you know, the right way. But the real gift came when I was able to accept people as they were and allow them to have their own process and have it still be okay. I didn’t have to have the last word or offer the right solution. I could listen, be supportive, and let God work without my interference. The more I practiced that, the more accepted and at ease I felt around others. I was no longer judging other people’s choices, emotions, or outcomes. I finally was able to breathe deeply and let life unfold without my input. The slogan Let Go and Let God finally came alive in me. That’s when I began to understand that peace isn’t found in fixing others, it’s found in letting God change me.

Prayer:

God, thank You for setting me free, and for allowing me to learn and grow at my own pace. I’m grateful that You accept me just as I am. Teach me to keep holding my tongue and to stop passing judgment on others. Help me show them the same grace You have given me. Amen.

I Love Him So

When I stopped running, I realized He’d been chasing me all along.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. Psalm 23:6

I gave my life to Christ when I was a teenager. When I heard the message of salvation, I accepted it with open arms. Not long after that, I unknowingly escaped into religion. Church became my safe place, a way to hide from the chaos and dysfunction of my home life.

For years I pursued God and a spiritual life the only way I knew how. I built my newfound life of hope and freedom on the broken foundation of survival skills developed by a child. I studied, prayed, and served. I went to Bible college and eventually became a minister. I was searching and longing for unconditional love and acceptance. But all to no avail. Hidden deep inside I still felt lacking and unfulfilled and became discouraged and depressed.

In working the steps of recovery, I began to realize something huge. The spiritual principles and concepts that I had so diligently sought after were surprisingly now tangible. In my thinking, I was to eternally seek but never actually attain. If I were to ever really be righteous or holy, then in my mind that meant I was prideful. But in recovery they became realistically attainable. My soul was broken and mangled from the abuse I experienced as a child. It needed to be mended. This caused a disconnect I was not able to fix. Recovery helped me see things as they really are. And the unconditional love that I had known about for years began to drip into my conscience, and I finally felt accepted and my heart began to heal.

Through recovery, I am learning that I can experience my life and not just hope for it.

As my healing emerged, I started to see how everything I had believed finally fit together in recovery. The same truths now had substance, and I began to live them.

Here’s what religious service looks like to me now:

• Willingness to change is repentance.

• Sponsorship is discipleship.

• Working the steps is putting aside old ways.

• Service is serving God.

• Carrying the message to others is sharing the good news.

It’s the same thing, just demystified and practical, every day where the rubber meets the road.

It was in recovery that my thinking changed from believing I had been seeking after Him my whole life to realizing He had been the Hound of Heaven, patiently pursuing me with fierce gentleness and reckless compassion, until I stopped and let Him catch me. That’s when He truly revealed Himself to me. I am so very grateful to God because He never stopped pursuing me. I love Him so.

Reflection

Have I stopped long enough to let God catch me, or am I still running even while serving Him?

Asking for Help

Sometimes strength looks like asking for help.

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

When I received a promotion at work, it meant transferring to a bigger store as director. I was excited about the opportunity and felt proud that my hard work had paid off. But the new role also came with more responsibility and more people to lead. I wanted to reach out to other directors, pick their brains, and get advice on handling the added pressure, but I didn’t know how. I kept thinking, I should know this, I am the director now. Truth was, I was embarrassed to ask, even though they had more experience than me. I waited and hoped someone would offer first. If I asked, it felt like I was advertising that I didn’t know how to do my job. Pride held me back and slowed my learning. Looking back, that came from low self-esteem. If I valued myself more, I probably would have asked for help sooner. I thank God I at least told my sponsor, and he had enough wisdom to tell me to ask for help.

The principles of recovery, including the ones you learn by watching others, helped me see that pride was the real issue. This principle goes back to the beginning for me: my first quiet cry for help. Walking into that first meeting was how it started. I would not have described it that way at the time, but deep down I knew I needed something different or I would not have gone at all. Everything in recovery starts with being willing to admit I need help. The people in my groups were patient. They saw me struggling and kept being around, waiting for me to reach out, hoping I would. Recovery is not for those who need it, it is for those who want it. You have to want it enough to take the first humble step toward another person and say, “Can you help me?”

Trusting my sponsor’s counsel, I finally called another director and asked for assistance. She did not look down on me or think less of me. She welcomed the call and shared insights that saved me hours of frustration and moved me much farther along. It even started a friendship that lasted for years. Today I try to remember that relying on myself alone is what got me stuck. When I reach out for help, I usually get it. God often uses other people to teach, guide, and remind me that I am not alone. The same way people in recovery waited patiently for me to reach out, He waits too, always ready and present when I ask.

Prayer

God, thank You for the people You send to help me. Give me the humility to ask, the courage to learn, and the grace to keep growing. Amen

My Hidden Heart

God can’t heal what I keep hidden.

When I finally let Him search my heart, He set me free.

God, I invite your searching gaze into my heart. Examine me through and through; find out everything that may be hidden within me. Psalm 139:23

“Sounds like you hate your dad?” my sponsor said to me one day when we were doing step work.

I quickly responded, “No I don’t. I don’t hate anybody!”

He grinned and said, “Okay, that’s just what it sounds like to me.”

I pushed back, “No! I don’t!”

“Well, that’s good,” he said, smiling. “Then it shouldn’t be too hard to write about. Let’s do that.”

“Okay, I will,” I said, respectfully defiant, (if there is such a thing).

So we stopped what we were working on, and I began a Fourth Step on my dad. It went on for several weeks, but it felt like forever. (That should have been a clue for me; denial, how great is thy sting.) Then one night as I was sharing about something that happened when I was a kid, I heard myself say, “Man, I hated him for that.”

My sponsor’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He gave me a gentle but intent look that said, “Did you hear what you just said?” I froze mid-sentence, the silence was deafening, he leaned in gently and asked, “You heard what you said, huh?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said quietly. I continued, bewildered, “But, I don’t hate… anybody? I love God and I have love for everyone.”

He saw the confusion on my face, nodded, and gently asked if I wanted to talk about it. A weight lifted off me that night, like a five-ton stone sliding off my heart.

I’m so grateful I had a sponsor who listened to my pain and not just my words. He heard what I was unaware of and unwilling to admit. I really did hate my dad, but I had covered over it with “Christian love.” I had been taught in church and read from the Bible that we are to love everyone and not hate anyone. Because of that, I denied the hatred in my heart since I wasn’t supposed to feel it. That night I saw how important it is to look at what is, not how I want things to be. I didn’t want to hate, but I did.

Working the steps, even the ones not written in the books; you know, the ones your sponsor tells you to do, has brought me freedom, peace, and love. Facing the truth freed me from hidden hatred and fear. After that night, I no longer hated my dad. I let it go. It lost its power over me, and my Fourth Step on him ended that same evening. God used my sponsor to show me what needed to be healed, and I’m thankful for His grace.

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿:

God, thank You for loving me enough to reveal what I’ve hidden, even from myself. Search my heart today and bring to light anything that stands between me and Your peace. Help me face truth with honesty and humility, and thank You for replacing my fear with freedom. Amen.

3 More Hours

Choosing between frustration and peace

If you wait for perfect conditions, you will never get anything done. Ecclesiastes 11:4

During the holidays, we like to do simple crafts and activities together as a family. One of our little traditions is making chocolate-covered pretzels. We placed our order for the things we needed at 9:00 a.m., with a promised delivery time of noon. Instead, the order was delayed and then disappeared altogether. Never filled, let alone delivered. Frustration started filling the room. My wife was on the phone trying to fix it, growing more irritated by the minute. I was sitting on the couch watching it unfold, not in the middle of the conflict but close enough to feel the tension and see the smoke coming out of her ears. She was upset, uncharacteristically short-tempered, and understandably frustrated. Before long, that frustration turned toward me for not jumping in to fix it. If I had been the one on the phone, I probably would have felt the same way. I’ve been in that spot before, and I’ve reacted worse than she did.

It became clear that no matter what we said, how much we complained, or how frustrated we became, the delivery wasn’t within our control. We couldn’t make anyone respond differently. We couldn’t speed things up. We couldn’t fix the delay or undo the mistake. We had no control over what was happening with the order, and it didn’t seem like anyone on the other end of the phone did either. No amount of frustration was going to change that. What we did have control over was simple, almost embarrassingly simple. Our response. We could stop arguing with people about something we couldn’t change and decide what to do next. Instead, we resisted that option. We stayed on the phone. We kept pressing. We kept trying to force a solution that wasn’t coming. Looking back, I wasn’t just watching a delay. I was watching how hard it is for me to let go of control when I feel I’ve been wronged.

We stayed there for three more hours. Three more hours of phone calls, explanations, and frustration. Three more hours of trying to convince someone else they were wrong. Three more hours of sitting in powerlessness, hoping control would eventually show up and fix things. Looking back, it’s almost humorous. I didn’t just wait three more hours for a delivery. I chose three more hours of anxiety, irritation, and resistance. Eventually, I did the only thing that was actually within my power. I got up off my butt, went to the store, picked up what we needed, and came home. By then, my wife had worked through her frustration, and the tension had passed. We were still able to do what we planned to do. It was just delayed. The real loss wasn’t the delay. It was the time I spent sitting still, insisting on fighting something I couldn’t change. I’m reminded how often I do this in life. I sit in discomfort waiting for someone else to change, waiting for circumstances to bend, waiting for tomorrow, instead of taking action right now. I didn’t lose hours because of the problem. I lost them because I refused to let go of control. And every time I do, I pay the same price. Not in time, but in peace.

Prayer

Father, help me recognize when I am holding on to control instead of choosing peace. Show me where I am waiting when I need to take action. Give me the courage to act on what is within my power. Teach me to respond instead of react. Thank You for the peace I receive when I choose to be happy instead of being right. Amen.

Trust Takes Time

Surrender Is a Process

When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. Psalm 56:3

I’ve noticed I write a lot about surrender and trust. It really bothered me. I wondered if it meant I wasn’t growing in my recovery or that I should be past this by now. I thought maybe it pointed to unresolved issues I still hadn’t dealt with. But then I realized something different. These are the places where my deepest wounds sit. Growing up with fears of rejection and abandonment shaped the way I learned to survive. It left me with severe trust issues, and to feel safe, I tried to control everything. Even today, these are my biggest struggles, so it makes sense that trust and surrender keep showing up in my writing and my recovery. This is where I’m learning to rest and let go of control. But those childhood fears are still there and make surrender hard.

Today I had one of those aha moments. I realized that this is something I will probably have to work on for the rest of my life. That doesn’t mean that I’m stuck and never able to change. It simply means it’s a process. I had 42 years of unhealthy dysfunctional living, including my formative childhood years. That doesn’t just go away overnight. It’s going to take time, one of those four letter words I so dread. I have to learn how to live healthy and free. But the difference is that now I’m aware. I’m awake to what’s happening inside me. These old fears still get stirred up from time to time, but not in the same way they used to. They don’t happen as often. And they don’t knock me down for days or even hours anymore. They no longer define me. I can sense the changes happening daily.

These changes are working a transformation in me, starting with how I perceive myself. And that works its way down into my daily thinking. By committing myself to writing, step work with my sponsor, and going to meetings, I am healing inside. As a result, I feel a sense of peace and security I never received before. Now when something makes me afraid, I don’t have to spiral out of control. I pray and ask God to help, write about whatever is upsetting me, and talk it through with my sponsor. I figure out what my part is, name the emotions, and put them where they belong instead of letting them ruin my whole day. Recovery has taught me how to respond in healthy ways instead of react. That’s where the real and felt healing is. Not in never struggling again, but in knowing what to do when the feelings begin to surface again. Knowing that this is a lifelong process is actually a comfort. I accept that I am not permanently damaged. I have a way to think, feel, and get better. It is in using these tools and allowing myself the same grace I have been offered by others in recovery.

Prayer
Father, I thank You for always being there for me, even when no one else was. Help me to trust You when fear shows up and I am tempted to take control. Keep me aware and honest about what’s happening inside me. Thank You for the changes You are working in me, even when they feel slow. Help me surrender to You and trust that You will always take care of me. Amen.

Leaving Resentment Behind

God Met Me When I Faced the Truth.

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

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

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

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

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