Recovery Glasses

Bringing Life Into Focus

But I know this: I once was blind, and now I can see! John 9:25

I remember riding with a friend one day when he asked me to help navigate. We were trying to find a certain street, and he told me to let him know when we were getting close. So I was watching for the sign, feeling pretty confident in my role, and we were having a good time. Then out of nowhere he sounded irritated. “There’s the street right there. Why didn’t you tell me?” I told him we weren’t close enough yet for me to read the sign. I honestly had no idea how he could read it. He looked at me like I had three heads and said, “You can’t read that sign?” When I said no, he said “You need glasses!” I said “No I do not!” and then he handed me his glasses and said, “Put these on.” The moment I put them on, it was like I had been in a pitch black room and someone just flipped on the light switch. I could suddenly see every single letter clear as day. Everything seemed more vivid, vibrant and defined.

Later that day at his house, he handed me the glasses again and said, “Look at the TV through these.” I laughed and said, “What difference could that make?” Famous last words. I put them on and I was flabbergasted. The colors were bright. The picture was sharp. It was amazing. I thought I could not believe I had never watched TV like this before in my entire life. Let me tell you, I’ve watched a lot of TV too. I know how to watch me some TV, and apparently I’ve never really seen any of it.

I was thinking about that memory this morning during meditation, and it hit me that recovery is very much like that. Before recovery, I was walking around without realizing how blurry my thinking was. I thought my reactions and my fears were normal because they were all I had ever known. I thought I was seeing things just as clearly, maybe better, as everyone else. But once I started doing the steps with a sponsor, going to meetings, and doing acts of service, things slowly came into focus. My feelings made more sense. Life felt more understandable. I didn’t have to get right up on every problem to figure out what was going on. It was like putting on actual glasses for the first time. Everything came into focus and I could see things as they really were, not as how I was interpreting based on limited sight.

When I think about recovery now, I think about those glasses. I didn’t know anything needed to change until someone handed me a clearer way to see things. God used people, meetings, and simple tools to show me what I couldn’t see on my own. And when I keep my recovery glasses on, I feel alive and the world is a much more beautiful place filled with vibrant colors and experiences. It is more real and defined. My circumstances didn’t change or automatically fix themselves, but the way I see them changed. And when I see more clearly, I can live more honestly and have more serenity, the kind that comes from finally seeing things as they really are and not just how I imagine or want them to be.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for helping me see things as they really are, not just how I imagine them or want them to be. Thank You for the gift of recovery and the people who guide me along the way. Keep my vision clear today. Help me stay honest, willing, and grounded in Your truth. Amen.

How Recovery Brought Me Back to God

A story of honesty, healing, and rediscovering grace.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8

Recovery did not just help me stop self destructive behavior. It helped me rediscover who God really is. The story of how that happened is where this devotional begins.

When I first came into recovery, I was hiding from God. I had known God closely once and never stopped believing in Him, but I wanted nothing to do with church or religion. I did not want to be preached at or told what I should be doing. I felt I had drifted too far away, was now too broken, and too ashamed to face Him again.

I avoided churches of any kind, yet it seemed like most recovery meetings were held in one, and I avoided those too.

Attending my first Christ centered recovery group happened completely by accident. Or did it. I do not believe in coincidences.

I had gone to my regular Friday night meeting, but when I arrived, no one was there. I walked up and down the empty halls of the school, checking classrooms and even interrupting another meeting by mistake. I called everyone I knew, and finally someone told me there was no meeting that night.

I was crushed. I needed a meeting. It had been a rough day, and the thought of being alone that night was unbearable. I was scared.

As I sat there in my car, desperate for connection, I remembered that sign at the church.

Sitting there, uneasy feelings of rejection and being unloved began to surface. I thought about that sign in front of the church that I drove past on my way to my meeting. It seemed to jump out at me that night and catch my attention.

It said Celebrate Recovery. It sounded like a meeting, but it was still in a church, and that did not feel safe. Did I mention I used to attend that church. Yeah. Talk about insult to injury.

Every time I drove past it, I told myself, “That’s not for me.”

But that night something felt different. I did not want to go home, and I did not want to be alone. I knew the meeting was already well underway and probably almost over, but I had enough recovery to know that some meeting was better than no meeting.

So I decided to take a chance.

The sign said it started at seven. I walked in around seven forty five, and the meeting was still going and just breaking into share groups.

This was different. It was a welcome change.

A man named Jeff greeted me like he had been waiting for me to arrive. He asked my name and what brought me there. I was caught off guard. It felt personal to be asked that directly, but as I later learned, that is recovery in action.

I told him I was just looking for a meeting, and he smiled and said, “You found one.”

That night marked the beginning of something I never expected. A renewed connection with God.

He was bringing me back to Him slowly and at my pace, even though I had done everything I could to keep Him at arm’s distance.

I felt like the prodigal son being welcomed home. For the first time in a long time, something inside me stirred. It was hope.

It did not take long for me to realize something was happening that I could not fully explain. I was not just going to meetings anymore. I was starting to open up.

Each time I shared honestly, something inside me loosened.

The walls I had built to protect myself were starting to come down. I began to sense God’s presence again. I started to feel like it might be safe to trust these people.

An experience I had as a teenager convinced me that trusting church people with my struggles and fears was impossible. But the people in recovery did not judge me or preach at me. They listened. They understood. They cared.

In their acceptance, I began to see God’s grace in practice.

Recovery was doing what religion never could. It was teaching me how to be honest, how to trust, how to connect, and how to belong again.

Somewhere in that process, I realized that God had not given up on me. He had been waiting there the whole time for me to humble myself, let go of my resentments, and surrender to His will.

As I followed the suggestion to keep coming back, I noticed these meetings had three parts. There was a time of worship and giving thanks to God, a time of teaching or testimony, and then the share groups.

The share groups were familiar to me from other recovery meetings, so that is where I started. Once I understood the structure, I began arriving just in time for them, and that was okay. No one looked down on me or made me feel different. I was accepted just as I was.

After a while, I started showing up right after the worship so I could hear the teaching on one of the steps or listen to someone share their story. Jeff, the man who greeted me that first night, became my sponsor.

He encouraged me, which is a nice way of saying he told me, that it was time to stop running from God. He invited me to attend the whole meeting, including the worship. I reluctantly agreed. I am so glad I did.

Through those moments of worship, something came alive in me again. God was meeting me where I was and gently leading me home. I started to feel grateful.

I did not realize it at the time, but each small step I took toward honesty, connection, and openness was also a step toward God. I had been running from Him for so long, but through recovery He patiently waited for me to come back.

The verse says, Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8.

For years, I thought that meant I had to clean myself up first. What I really had to do was show up. One honest step in His direction. God did the rest.

Looking back now, I can see that recovery did not just bring me healing. It brought me back to God. It brought me home.

My relationship with God is no longer based on performance. It is based on understanding that He accepts me just as I am. I began to see that in the rooms of recovery, and it helped me understand that God accepts me, listens to me, and loves me, imperfections and all.

This devotional was written from that place. From the heart of someone who discovered that healing is not just about recovery, but about relationship. My prayer is that as you read these reflections, you experience the same grace that brought me home.

The Real Reason I Was Upset

When God Showed Me the Hurt Beneath the Reaction

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
Psalm 139:23

We had been holding our Christ-centered recovery meetings at our church for about six months, after nearly a year of prayer, preparation, and leadership training. My wife and I had invested our time, energy, and hearts into getting it started. The meetings were thriving, with more than fifty people attending each week.

Then one afternoon, the pastor called to tell me we could no longer use the fellowship hall where we held our meal time. His son had started using the room for a business gathering. I was stunned. The meal time was such an important part of what we did – it was where newcomers met others, developed relationships, and connected with potential sponsors. I couldn’t believe that after all that effort, we were being displaced for a sales meeting.

Frustrated and angry, I called my sponsor. I explained what happened and how unfair it felt. He listened and then asked, “Why are you so upset?”

“I just told you,” I said, “They took our room from us!”

He asked again, more pointedly, “Why are you so upset?”

I repeated my reasons, still irritated. Then he said something that stopped me cold. “Which one of your core issues is being stirred up by this situation?”

I paused. In that moment, I knew exactly what he meant. I wasn’t just angry about losing a room. I felt rejected, overlooked, and unimportant. It touched old wounds of not feeling good enough or chosen. The truth was, those feelings were my issue, not anyone else’s.

My sponsor encouraged me to look at it differently. “Either the other group will take off and need a bigger space, or it will fade away. Either way, you’ll most likely get your room back.”

So we moved our meal time into the sanctuary. It meant more set-up and clean-up, but we made it work. And just as he said, within two weeks the other meetings faded and we got our fellowship hall back. But the real victory wasn’t getting the room back. It was learning to pause, look inward, and let God deal with the root instead of the reaction.

Prayer:

Lord, when I feel angry, overlooked, or rejected, help me to stop and ask what You are showing me. Teach me to take inventory of my heart and to let You heal the places where I still feel not good enough. Thank You for using every circumstance, even the unexpected ones, to draw me closer to You. Amen.

The Impossible Ammends

Not every amends can be made in person.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

The other day I was thinking about my mom and how much I miss her. She passed a few years ago, but her memory still finds me at unexpected times. As I thought about her, a moment from years back came to mind, a time when I was brand new to recovery and just learning to set boundaries. I realized that in my efforts to change and work the program, I had been harsh and unkind to her. That memory brought a deep sense of regret. But since she was gone, I reasoned it was a conversation I would never get to have with her.

Then I decided to try something I had heard about in recovery and had practiced before, the “empty chair” exercise. I pictured my mom sitting across from me in an empty chair. I began to speak to her out loud and told her I was sorry for how I had treated her, for being selfish, distant, withdrawn, and dismissive. As I talked, I started to see something I had not seen before. I had been punishing her for things she never did. I realized I had been blaming her for the abuse I suffered from my stepdad, as if she could have somehow made it stop. But the truth was, she never hurt me. She tried to protect me, and when she did, she got hurt herself.

As I spoke those words aloud, I felt something lift. I had not realized it until then, but I had been carrying anger and guilt for a very long time, and it was time to let it go. I prayed and asked God to help me forgive completely and let go of what I had been holding on to for so long. What followed was peace, the kind only God can bring.

That time of prayer and honesty brought peace and healing to my heart. I know there is still more work to do, but it was a real step forward. I have come to accept that my mom, like me, was also doing the best she could. I no longer hold her responsible for what she could not control. That realization has helped me show more compassion toward others who are struggling in their own pain. God continues to teach me that forgiveness is not about changing the past. It is about allowing His grace to change me today.

Prayer:
God, thank You for helping me face the things I have held inside for so long. Continue to teach me to forgive completely and to show grace to others the way You have shown grace to me. Keep changing me through Your love, one day at a time. Amen.

Trust, but Verify

Courage isn’t opening up all at once, but opening up wisely

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

Freedom doesn’t come from hiding; it comes from honesty. I was hurt very early in my Christian walk by the person who led me to the Lord. It was gut-wrenching and painful. This person shared things I had told them in confidence and they even mocked me behind my back. That experience left a deep wound, a scar that shaped how I saw people for years. From that moment on, I kept my guard up, convinced that if people in the church couldn’t be trusted, no one could. I learned to smile on the outside but stayed guarded on the inside. I reasoned that I was protecting my witness, but really, I was covering my pain. If no one knew my challenges, then they couldn’t use them to hurt me again.

For a long time, I believed that sharing my struggles was like announcing to the world that I was weak and didn’t measure up. But in recovery, I began to see that it wasn’t the principles of trust and confession that were wrong, it was trusting and sharing with the wrong person. Admitting my wrongs (confession), done safely, is where healing begins. Telling the truth to someone trustworthy has become one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Every time I bring something into the light, it no longer has power over me, and I find a little more freedom. That’s what recovery has taught me: when I tell the truth in a safe place, I am actually humbling myself, and when I do I receive the grace that God promises.

God has a way of using safe people to rebuild broken trust. Through relationships in recovery, He showed me that it’s possible to open up again, not carelessly, but courageously. The Just for Today bookmark reminds me that I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for a lifetime. So, I adopted my own slogan: “Trust, but verify.” It allows me to be open and honest in pieces and still feel safe. I can share something with someone, but not everything all at once. I pause and see how they respond, and if it still feels safe, I can share more. For me, it has worked. Healing didn’t come all at once, but through each moment of honesty and grace. My walls began to lower, and I could finally breathe. I learned that trusting again isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a demonstration of freedom from the wounds and scars of the past. And I can see the reality of the promise in James 4:6.

Prayer:
God, thank You for healing my broken trust and teaching me how to be open again. Help me to recognize the safe people You’ve placed in my life and give me the courage to keep living honestly. Use my story to help others find safety, healing, and hope in You. Amen.

God Met Me In My Mess

The Moment I Stopped Trying to Earn God’s Love

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16

I felt trapped in a vicious cycle that I couldn’t escape. No matter how hard I tried, I kept repeating the same destructive behaviors. I would pray and plead, “God, please take this urge away,” but the moment of relief never lasted. Like the proverb says, I kept returning to my own vomit. Each time I failed, the shame grew heavier until I started to believe that maybe this was just who I was now. I felt hopeless, discouraged, and distant from God. How could He possibly take me back again? I knew better, and that made it worse. I loved God deeply, but I was too embarrassed to pray. I repented, but I still carried guilt like a permanent scar. Even when I did pray, I found myself begging for forgiveness over and over, as if His mercy depended on how sorry I felt. Though I knew in my head that He promised forgiveness, I didn’t believe it enough to feel it in my heart. Slowly, without even realizing it, I stopped praying altogether.

Through recovery, something began to change. At every meeting, we prayed, once to open and once to close. So that meant I prayed. I was praying again. The prayers were familiar and I recognized the words, but now they seemed more real to me. I had a spiritual awakening, realizing that even simple, common prayers carry deep meaning when spoken from the heart. God reached me there, taking the little bit I had to give and welcomed me. He didn’t reject me or chastise me for not doing it better. He just accepted me as I was, and He came to meet me right there. I started to feel like I was getting to know God, not just about Him.

My relationship with God began to deepen, and prayer was becoming a conversation. I laid down my facade and was finally being honest. I could talk to Him about anything and everything. I started having discussions with God like I would another person. I started sharing my struggles, fears, and plans with God. I thanked Him, asked His advice and opinion, and I even questioned Him. What was important was that I stopped lying to God and told Him the truth. The amazing thing is that the more honest I was with Him, the more I trusted Him, and the more peace I felt. Prayer wasn’t about earning His approval anymore, it was about connection. I discovered God wasn’t waiting for me to get it right; He was waiting for me to get real.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for accepting me right where I am. Thank You that I don’t have to perform or pretend to earn Your love. Teach me to keep coming to You honestly, without fear or shame. Help me to grow in our conversation and to stay open to Your voice every day. Amen.

Living Amends

Letting go of yesterday by living differently today.

We know that our old life died with Christ on the cross so that the power of sin would be destroyed. We are no longer slaves to sin. Romans 6:6

I was thinking about my son this past week. He was born at Thanksgiving, and this time every year I am reminded of another thing to be thankful for. But not all the memories are good. His delivery was rough, and there were complications. He and his mom stayed in the hospital for several days, but I went home that night because family was coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. At the time I was a young retail manager, less than a year into the job, and terrified to ask for anything. The next morning was Black Friday, the busiest sales day of the year, and instead of being at the hospital with my newborn son, I went to work. Looking back, it breaks my heart that fear had that much power over me. I am embarrassed to admit that I left my wife and son alone after an emergency birth because I cared more about approval than presence. And the worst part? No one even noticed. No thank you, no good job, nothing. All that sacrifice, and it meant absolutely nothing. I carried that shame with me for years.

I have learned in recovery that I cannot rewrite that choice. I cannot go back and be the father or husband I should have been. I must stop wishing for a happier past. But what I can do is face the truth of who I was back then. I can admit that fear and people pleasing ran my life. I can admit that my thinking was so twisted that I believed showing up at work mattered more than showing up for my family. That kind of honesty hurts, but it is the only way I can grow. A living amends means I do not pretend it did not happen. It means I face the truth and ask God to change the patterns that drove me there in the first place. And then I allow Him to change me, by actually doing things differently.

So when my youngest daughter was born, I made a different choice. I asked for time off. Not just the day she was born, but the next few days too. I stayed with my wife. I held my daughter. I was present. And the feeling was completely different. There was no guilt, no shame, no heaviness following me around. Just gratitude, relief, and the sense that maybe I was finally becoming the man I always wanted to be.

That shift did not come from me trying harder. It came from working the steps with my sponsor and putting the principles of recovery into action in my life. This allowed God to untangle the fear that used to control me. That is what living amends is to me. It is making different choices in similar situations. This is an amends I make for myself, and because of it I am slowly becoming the version of me that God intended.

Prayer:God, thank You for showing me how to make living amends through the choices I make today. Help me stay honest, stay willing, and stay open to the changes You are forming in me. Amen.

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.

Stopping To Smell The Roses

Slowing down and recognizing the beauty in front of me.

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 12:2

I will try to stop and take the time to smell the roses. I have always thought of that as a metaphorical idea. But my wife took it literally, and it was an object lesson for me. My wife and I were on a walk. We had decided to exercise and do a brisk 20 minute walk every evening to get our heart rate up and blood pumping. A healthy activity. As we were walking, about 10 minutes in, I noticed she was not right next to me. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see her behind me, thinking maybe I was walking a bit too fast. Instead, I saw her stopped, bent over next to a rose bush on the path. She called me over. Frustrated, I pointed to my wrist and said we need to keep walking. We are interrupting our cardio and cannot stop. She looked at me with that ever so sweet smile and said, look at the sunset, look how beautiful it is. And come smell how lovely these roses are. She was happy and content. She was experiencing peace, pausing in the moment and admiring the beauty and wonder of her day. My wife was connecting with God while I was stuck on my agenda. She had literally stopped to smell the roses. And God opened my eyes to see that the phrase that sometimes becomes a cliche was really tangible. I saw the power of what it meant right before my eyes.

A full life is not just about doing step work and dealing with the past. All the hurts, pains, resentments and damage of the past. It is also about learning how to embrace what is good and beautiful. But here is the truth, it is not easy for me to look for the amazing and the wonderful. Years of trauma taught me to stay on guard and be on the lookout for danger. It shaped how I saw the world. Always watchful for what could happen and how to avoid it. And with it also came criticism, how can people not see an obviously horrible event and avoid it? That was my twisted thinking. My insane thinking. Step two enlightens me to this in a non threatening way. I came to believe that God could restore me to sanity. The understood concept is that I am insane. Otherwise, why would I seek to be restored to sanity? I have heard it said that my best thinking got me to where I am. So I need a different way of thinking. That moment with my wife showed me what that new way of thinking might look like.

This is what restored sanity actually looks like for me. It is not about a big spiritual breakthrough or a sudden change in personality. It is small moments like this, where I pause long enough to see what is good right in front of me. I am learning to slow down, to breathe, to not rush past the beauty God puts in my path. Experiencing healing in recovery and renewing my mind means being open to new ways of thinking. I do not want to miss the wonderful things God has planned or overlook the beauty right in front of me because I am stuck on an agenda or trying to exercise control. If stopping to smell the roses is part of becoming whole, then I want to practice it. I want to look for the goodness, the peace, the moments where God is trying to get my attention. I want to let Him restore my mind, moving me forward one simple choice at a time.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫: God, thank You for reminding me to stop and see the beauty around me. Help me pause long enough to feel Your peace. Renew my mind and teach me a new way of thinking. I want to notice You in the quiet moments of my day. Amen.

Unconditional Love

Holidays and family can get complicated, but God’s love is never ending.

This is what real love is. It is not our love for God. It is God’s love for us. He sent His Son to die in our place to take away our sins. 1 John 4:10

During the holidays, it can be so stressful. Dealing with family dynamics and dysfunction is challenging. Unresolved hurts and disturbing memories of the past, as well as new wounds that spring up and bring with them unbearable pain and resentment. Love then feels and becomes conditional, which leads to more hurt and even deeper resentment. And it continues on toward a never-ending downward spiral.

I am so glad that God never said He will only love us under certain conditions. He gave the ultimate sacrifice and still loves with abandon, without reservations or regrets. I’m glad He doesn’t need to protect Himself from us hurting Him more. This is what rejection looks like, but God never rejects those He loves, no matter what they do in return, whether real, imagined, or perceived. (Hint: we are those He loves)

Love does not return hurt for hurt. Love gives and gives and gives and gives and gives and gives. And then gives and gives and gives some more. Love never stops giving. That is what forgiveness is. It is giving love in advance of any wrongdoing, even when it is not deserved or reciprocated. Love gives even when it is not requested or asked for.

In these times we can be reminded that God is a perfect parent and find comfort in His care. His love is perfect toward you. He accepts without expectation, He loves without condition, and He forgives when it is not earned or requested.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for loving me without conditions and without hesitation. Help me love my family the same way. Teach me to forgive quickly, give freely, and choose love even when old hurts rise up. Let Your unconditional love flow through me today. Amen.

Unseen Changes

It’s The Quiet Choices That Change Me

Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much. Luke 16:10

The other day I went to the store to pick up a few things. When I was leaving, I started to take my shopping cart back to the holding area. On the way, I saw another cart sitting off to the side, left behind. I decided to grab it and take it with me. Then I thought, maybe this is one of those times when I’m doing a good deed and not being found out about or doing something I don’t want to do just for exercise, like I’ve read so many times on the Just for Today bookmark. Then another thought hit me: How would anybody know if I did a good thing if nobody saw me do it and I didn’t tell anyone? Does this even qualify as something good? It was just a shopping cart that someone left behind. Was I making more of it than it really was?

Then it dawned on me. I wasn’t doing this for anyone else to notice or to pat me on the back. That was the point. And that was the gift. I was doing it for me. I’m learning that real change isn’t just about stopping the wrong things and starting the right ones, but about understanding why I do what I do. I wasn’t returning the cart to prove anything. I was doing it because I’ve started to think differently, to notice and care about things I never used to before. Someone once said that honesty and integrity mean doing the right thing when no one is watching. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s not about being seen or praised. It’s about becoming someone who now thinks differently and acts differently. When I do the right thing quietly, that’s when it’s most real.

As I pushed the carts into the holding area, I felt a small smile cross my face. My shoulders straightened, and for a moment I stood a little taller. It wasn’t pride; it was peace. Something in me had shifted just enough to notice. I realized I wasn’t just returning shopping carts; I was living recovery, finally becoming the person I always hoped to be, one simple act at a time. Change isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it comes in the stillness, as a small and gentle reminder from my Higher Power to choose what’s right when no one’s watching. That moment reminded me that the work God is doing in me is real. I don’t need to prove it; I just need to live it.

Prayer: God, thank You for showing me that real growth happens in the little things. Help me notice the still, small moments where You are shaping me into someone new. Teach me to live honestly, not for attention or approval, but to have peace within and with You. 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.

Warning Signs

Paying Attention To God’s Alerts

No one really knows all the mistakes he makes. So forgive my hidden faults. Psalm 19:12

The topic in my meeting last night was what do you do when you mess up. And I was thinking about that. I have a hard time because I don’t know when I mess up my denial keeps me from seeing it. That’s the whole reason I ended up coming to recovery in the first place, I didn’t think I had any problems. I didn’t think I ever messed up. So the thought of what to do when I do is hard. I have tools I practice now that help me. They are my warning signs that steer me on my recovery road. They alert me before I enter into dangerous or unsafe territories. When I see patterns, by that I mean maybe more than one person tells me the same thing. I realize I’m the common denominator, so that tells me I need to look at myself. When I feel uneasy in my spirit or in my heart, that is a sign that I need to look deeper at what’s going on. If my conscience won’t let me rest and I keep thinking about something over and over, that’s a good sign that I need to look inwardly at what’s going on.

For me, it’s never been an issue to apologize or make things right when I knew things were wrong or I messed up. I have always been quick to repent. My problem has always been recognizing that I’ve done something wrong. When I offend someone, when I hurt them, or when I am insensitive to their feelings or point of view, I usually don’t see it. So recovery helps me to recognize the signs. When I see these signs I pray asking God for help, I write about it, asking why this is bothering me. Writing usually leads me to figuring out how I really feel about things. I honestly examine my actions and ask myself, What is my part? I ask God to show me how to make a proper amends and ask Him to open the door and show me the timing to do so.

This gives me peace and confidence. When I can do this, then I can trust that I’m hearing God and following His will when I take the next right action.

Prayer: Father, thank You for being patient with me as I learn to see what I used to miss. Help me pay attention when something feels unsettled inside me. Teach me to recognize my part and trust You to guide my steps. Show me how to make amends with honesty and humility. Thank You for giving me peace as I follow Your will. Amen.

Stop Pretending

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

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

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

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

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

Prayer:

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

Recovery On the Go

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

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

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

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

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

Prayer:

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