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.

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.

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.

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.