Huge Little Thing

Sometimes it’s the little things show me just how much I have changed.

We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us.
Alcoholics Anonymous, The Promises

The other night I showed up to umpire a game unprepared. I did not have the right uniform with me. I umpire for several different organizations, and each one has its own uniform requirements. I asked the league representative if I could work the game with the uniform I brought with me, hoping they would say yes. Instead, they asked if I had enough time to go home and change. Sadly, I did. So, I went home, changed my uniform, came back, and worked the game.

I have to admit I wasn’t especially pleased with the outcome of that conversation. It definitely was not what I wanted to do. However, I was cognizant of how differently I handled the situation than I would have in the past. I was upfront and honest. I did not try to lie or hide the fact that I was unprepared. I was vulnerable. I made my request known, and when I did not get the answer I wanted, I did not get upset. I didn’t try to manipulate or control to get my way. I accepted the answer they gave me and worked the game. Yes, I was embarrassed that I showed up unprepared. But because I did the right thing, the embarrassment slipped away. I showed up and did my job without an attitude. I maintained my emotional sobriety, and my disappointment didn’t leak onto anyone else either. And when the game was over, I had no resentments.

I felt proud of myself for the way I approached the situation. And deep down I sensed God was proud of me too. I was able to let it go. I did not dwell on it or play it over and over in my head. And that was a great gift. These little things that come up in my everyday life are huge for me because I know how I used to respond in the past. What stood out to me most was that it was not a challenge. It was not a battle. It was not something I vacillated on, and it was not a difficult decision. It wasn’t even a decision. I am so grateful for that.

Working through the steps of recovery has changed me from the inside. My responses are different. My thought process is different. My emotions are different. I am different. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection

What little things in my life show me that I am responding differently than I used to?

Why So Much?

Taking a Closer Look

I’m realizing that I really do find what I’m looking for.

Let us look closely at our ways and examine them and then return to the LORD. Lamentations 3:40

The other day I was wondering why I always seem to have so much material to write about recovery. Almost every day I discover another lesson, another character defect, another attitude that God wants to change in me. My first thought wasn’t very encouraging. Maybe I’m still more messed up than I realize. Maybe my life is still full of turmoil. Why do I always seem to have so much material? I paused and meditated on it for a little while. I was surprised by the answer. It was pretty simple: Because I’m looking for it. At first that seemed obvious. I look for things in my everyday life that might become object lessons. But I realized there was something else going on. In my heart, I am genuinely looking for ways I can improve myself.

When I look back at the situations I’ve written about, most of them aren’t current trauma or turmoil. They’re ordinary things that happen in my everyday life. A conversation, a mistake, a disappointment, somebody’s reaction, or my own. But sometimes those ordinary situations trigger thoughts and emotions connected to trauma or turmoil from my past. Working my recovery program has helped me connect the two and recognize the cause and effect. Instead of beating myself up for what I’m feeling or how I’m thinking, I ask, Why am I feeling this way? If I can connect it to a character defect, then I surrender it to God and ask for His help. That helps me let it go. I find I’m making more discoveries and more adjustments in the moment. I don’t make as many of the same mistakes as I used to. And just as important, I don’t owe as many amends either.

It’s like I’ve developed a radar that detects things I never looked for before. That radar calls my attention to something while I still have an opportunity to address it, sometimes before it ever becomes a problem. I can keep the focus on me and remember that I’m the one who needs to change me. If I don’t like the way I’m feeling, I’m the one who needs to change my emotions. If my thinking is taking me somewhere I don’t want to go, I’m the one who needs to change the way I think. That’s not always as easy to do as it is to say, but the process itself is pretty simple. I look honestly at myself. I take an inventory. I look for my part. I admit my part. I own my part. Then I ask God to show me how to change.

God never lets me down. He always comes through with His part. And if I’m honest, most of the time there is already something inside me urging me toward what I need to do, but I sometimes suppress it or resist it. When I humble myself, become willing, and make the change, other things begin to fall into place. My emotions change. My thoughts become calm. I find peace and resolve where there might once have been chaos. Maybe I have so much to write about recovery because I’m working my recovery program. I’m looking for opportunities to grow, and because I’m looking for them, I’m finding them. That’s the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection
Am I looking for opportunities to practice recovery in my everyday life?

On The Spot

A Decision Followed by Action

I can’t change what happened in the past, but I can change what happens next.

I can do all things through Christ, because He gives me strength. Philippians 4:13

The other day I was umpiring an adult slow-pitch softball game after work. I was tired. It had been a long day, and I had not gotten much sleep the night before. Typically, there is not a lot of action and most of the calls are obvious. So, I usually do not have to move very much. However, there was a close play at third base. I called the runner out, but I was still all the way back at home plate. It was possible the fielder missed the bag, but I was not in the best position to see it. The runner was upset and said he had been safe by a couple of steps. Honestly, every player says they were safe, so I shrugged it off. But inwardly, I knew I was not in the correct position to make the call. I thought about it for a few minutes, but instead of letting my mind spin on it, I decided to change right there, on the spot.

I told myself, “I can do better. I am a better umpire than this. I am going to hustle and get into the right position. I am not going to put myself in a situation where I cannot see the play again.” I prayed and asked God to give me strength and help me do better. And He did. And then so did I. Even though I was still tired, I sensed an extra boost as soon as I began making the effort. I found that I was able to hustle, move, and get the right angle. God had given me exactly what I needed, but I still had to act on what He gave me. Before recovery, I probably would have promised myself that I would do better the next time I umpired. This time, I made the decision and immediately followed it with action. That showed me I have grown. I am not perfect, but I am making progress. I even started to have fun working again.

The lesson for me was this: I do not have to beat myself up, but I do not have to stay the same either. I can do something. I can change. I have learned in recovery that I can change my mind and do something different right then. I do not have to wait for a new game. I do not have to wait for another day. I can make a change, put it into action, and begin practicing it right there on the spot. I cannot go back and undo a past mistake, but I can learn from it and do something different so I do not keep repeating it. And that is exactly what I did. I felt better about myself afterward too. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

God, help me to recognize when I need to change and do something different. Give me the strength to do it right then. Thank you for always being faithful to help me. Amen.

A Day of Discovery

I brought home a prize from the county fair. Discovering my wants mattered too.

Take delight in the LORD, and He will give you your heart’s desires. Psalm 37:4

The other day I was reflecting on my early days of recovery when one memory immediately came to mind. It was just a few months into my recovery journey. I saw the promo for the county fair and I wanted to go, so I decided to go, even if it meant going by myself. I remember driving there and sitting in my car after I parked, wondering if I should just leave and go back home. Before recovery, I never would have considered doing something like this. It wasn’t because I felt lonely or embarrassed. This was something I had chosen to do on purpose. It felt like one of those assignments that my sponsor would always give me. The only difference was this one I was giving myself. I was wondering if I could really do this recovery stuff. Could I really build a healthy life making my own right decisions?

As I walked through the fairgrounds, I meandered and drifted. I wasn’t in a hurry and I had no plan or agenda. I went wherever I wanted to go. I stopped at the exhibits that interested me. I stopped and listened to a band performing, after a few songs I moved on, even though they were still performing. In the past I would have stayed and listened to the whole set before moving on, even though I wanted to leave. I would have been concerned about what others might think about me for leaving prematurely. Not this time. Those may seem like ordinary decisions to some, but they weren’t ordinary for me. Growing up, I never got the manual on what was normal and ordinary. I was forging my own path. That day I was discovering what I liked and wanted. Then I came across a demonstration for a set of cookware. I was impressed with the presentation and quality of the product. I really wanted it, but immediately I started trying to justify why I should buy it. I remembered reading something in my recovery devotional that morning that encouraged me to do something for myself today. So I bought it.

At the time buying that cookware became a symbolic action for me. The cookware was very nice, but it was merely a representation of a day of discovery. I discovered what I liked and wanted. I gave myself permission to pursue it. The greatest gift I received that day was realizing that I could do something for myself simply because I wanted to. There was nothing wrong with thinking or feeling that way either. In fact, I learned it was actually healthy. I could make my own right decisions. Over time, as I continued working through the steps I felt empowered and confident that I could begin to trust my own decisions. I was no longer a victim worried about what other people thought of me, or even what I imagined they thought of me. I finally had permission to discover that my wants mattered and that acting on healthy wants wasn’t selfish at all. It was freeing.

Reflection

What is something I could do for myself today, just because I want to?

How Do I Do That?

Practicing Recovery

Practicing recovery usually begins with considering the possibility of a different response.

Don’t let evil get the upper hand, but conquer evil by doing good. Romans 12:21

Where we live the water is not good for drinking. One of my weekly chores is to take our 5-gallon jugs and get them refilled. I recently stopped at the store to do that. Knowing I would need space to put the full jugs into my car, I pulled in to the parking slot, like I have done so many times before, giving myself plenty of room on both sides. I grabbed a shopping cart and placed all of my empty jugs into it, and headed to the water refill station. When I came back to my car, a big four-wheel-drive pickup had parked next to me. It was so close to my driver’s side that I couldn’t open my door and squeeze into my car. As I looked closer, I noticed a fresh ding and mark on my door with paint that matched the same color of the truck. I could tell exactly what had happened. I went around to the passenger’s side and crawled across the seats to the driver’s side. I started my car and moved it over so I would have enough room to load my water. While I was doing that, I felt resentment try to rear its ugly head and my mind was suddenly busy with vindictive thoughts. I thought about swinging my door into their truck and leaving a ding. I thought about turning the shopping cart upside down and leaving it behind their vehicle so they would have to deal with it. I even thought about leaving a really nasty note. Then, out of nowhere, another thought interrupted all that and came into my mind. I think it was God, but it sounded an awful lot like my sponsor, so you know what that means. It simply said, “This is a good chance to practice recovery.” At first that thought made me even angrier. How will they ever know they did me wrong?

As I thought about practicing recovery, I wasn’t even sure what that meant in this situation. The only thing I could think of was to load my water, return the shopping cart where it belonged, get in my car, and drive home. I didn’t have some profound spiritual experience standing there in the parking lot. I just knew I had a choice. I could pass along the frustration that had just been handed to me, or I could let it stop with me. So, that is just what I did. Whoever it was that parked next to me may not know or even care that they damaged my car and made my day more difficult. But that really wasn’t the point. What I am learning is that I don’t have to seek revenge when someone does me wrong or hurts me. I can choose a different response.

Before coming to recovery, someone else’s actions like this would usually determine mine. I would react and respond in kind. If they were rude, I was rude. If they hurt me, I wanted to hurt them right back. Tit for tat. An eye for an eye was my motto. But that is contrary to what I have learned so far in recovery. Surrendering my old thoughts to God and letting them go was practicing recovery. I was using the spiritual principles of the program. Like acceptance, self-control and forgiveness. I was thinking differently and considering a new approach to old feelings.

Today I am thankful, that with God’s help, I made a healthy choice. I did not act on the thoughts that started running through my head. I paused, took a breath and slowed down my thinking. I considered a different option. I feel like I won in that moment in the battle for control of my thinking and actions. I don’t owe an amends, and I didn’t retaliate or react. I didn’t do something I might regret later. And that’s the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection

How can I practice recovery in my life today?

Recovered, Not Arrived

Seeking God

I am grateful that I have recovered, but transformation comes from continuing to seek God and to do His will.

“…we, of Alcoholics Anonymous, are more than one hundred men and women who have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body.” Alcoholics Anonymous, Foreword to the First Edition

I was recently listening to a speaker talk about how the introduction to the Big Book, specifically says that we have recovered from alcohol. For whatever reason, and for a long time, I had believed the misconception that I would never be completely recovered. I have even heard people say a phrase that has become folklore and many believe it to be true. “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.” Maybe you have heard it too. I interpreted that to mean that I would always struggle and never be completely free. I thought this was the teaching of the Twelve Steps. That belief was a stumbling block for me that caused me to reject recovery for many years. I believe that God is bigger than my problems and that He would deliver and heal me completely, if He were sought. These two ideas were in conflict and created confusion for me. I could not accept the idea that there was no hope for me to ever permanently get better. I ultimately did come to recovery, not because I agreed with everything. I only came because I was in enough pain that I became willing to try something different.

So I was eager to go back to the Big Book and verify it for myself. Guess what? It really does say that we have recovered. Not just once, but repeatedly throughout the literature. I also searched for the phrase, “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic,” only to discover it isn’t there at all. In fact, what I found was just the opposite. When I saw that for myself, I felt relief. I felt validated. The conflict I had carried around for years suddenly disappeared. I no longer had to wonder if I would always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for it to come back. If I was always recovering, would I ever really be free? I finally saw that recovery does not oppose or contradict my beliefs. I am confident that I have recovered, but I also know that I have not arrived. I still encounter situations every day that challenge me to react. Those moments reveal areas where I still need to grow. Old ways of thinking still show up from time to time.

Recovered doesn’t mean perfected. My addiction and destructive behaviors may be gone. I am no longer living in bondage to what once controlled me. But that doesn’t mean I stop working the Steps or that I no longer seek to improve my conscious contact with God. I don’t want to settle for recovering from one malady when God wants to transform every area of my life. So I continually seek Him. It’s a lifelong journey to be relieved of the bondage of self so that I may better do His will. The freedom I thought I would never find was there all along. I found it when I surrendered to God and stopped resisting the truths He was showing me. My prayer now is that I may be able to do His will. That is the gift of recovery for me. I am recovered, I have not arrived

I do not consider myself to have “arrived”, spiritually, nor do I consider myself already perfect. But I keep going on, grasping ever more firmly that purpose for which Christ Jesus grasped me. Philippians 3:12

Course Correction

Back to Basics

It’s easy for me to recognize when something is obviously wrong. It’s much harder to recognize the small changes that quietly take me off course.

This is why it is so crucial that we be all the more engaged and attentive to the truths that we have heard, so that we do not drift off course. Hebrews 2:1

I haven’t completed and shared a new devotional in a couple weeks. That bothered me because sharing what I learn has become an important part of my recovery. Life was still happening and I was till having opportunities to practice the principles of recovery every single day. Unfortunately, I wasn’t having the same success. That should have been a clue for me right there. But, no I “know stuff”. And every time I sat down at my computer to write, I just didn’t have it. I felt empty. At first I thought maybe I had nothing new or authentic to share. I questioned if I should even be writing at all. I even wondered if I felt like a hypocrite because I had been missing some of my regular recovery meetings. So I did what I have learned to do in recovery when I don’t understand what’s going on inside me. I started writing about it.

I found it ironic and a bit humorous that while not being able to write, I decided to write as a solution. I began writing about why I felt I couldn’t write a devotional. I examined my motives. Once I started, I was able to write quite extensively. That’s when it dawned on me. My problem wasn’t not being able to write. I was writing. But not being able to share a devotional was a warning sign for me, signaling something else was wrong. What emerged from my inventory was that my routines and disciplines had shifted. I had taken on a second job that required me to work evenings. My life and my schedule had changed dramatically, and although I was still praying, reading, and spending time with God, it wasn’t with the same consistency or depth. I had stopped attending my regular meetings and, without realizing it, I had stopped journaling. I just kept expecting the same growth and results in my recovery although everything else had changed. My life had changed, but my recovery plan hadn’t adjusted with it. In fact, I didn’t even have a plan.

Every change I make, whether it is a conscious decision or simply a choice by default, has an impact on my life and produces an outcome. Working through the steps has taught me to pay attention to those outcomes because they often reveal patterns I haven’t yet recognized. I need to pay attention to those results whether they are welcomed and desired or unwanted. Not being able to write wasn’t my problem. It was the result of something else happening, or more accurately not happening. For me, journaling, inventory, prayer, meetings, and God’s Word are the foundation that keeps me grounded and spiritually healthy. If I were to completely neglect my recovery and conscious contact with God, I would recognize it almost immediately because the effects are obvious and I start acting sideways. But this was different. My recovery didn’t stop; it gradually diminished as I got busier and I didn’t even notice. I just felt a little off. I started to think differently. I had subtle changes in my behavior. When I seem to be acting or thinking differently, I need to resist the temptation to ignore it. I need to ask why.

I knew I needed to course correct and that meant getting back to the basics. Since my schedule had changed, I needed to implement changes to my recovery disciplines too. For me that means attending online meetings. It means getting up earlier to read and have my devotional time and making time to journal before bed. I can even use my lunch break time to listen to recovery speakers. The specific solution isn’t as important as recognizing when my spiritual tank is running low and responding to it. This time it took me a few weeks to discover what was going on. That is a tremendous improvement over the years I once spent living in denial. That is growth. Sometimes I don’t realize how much something has been helping me until I stop doing it.

Prayer

Lord, help me recognize when I begin to drift. Give me the humility to ask why, the wisdom to make course corrections, and the willingness to stay faithful to the things that keep me close to You. Amen.

Fighting Ghosts

Uncovering Yesterday’s Wounds

One of the gifts of inventory is discovering that my reactions aren’t always about what’s happening right now. Sometimes I’m still in a battle with a ghost from long ago.

So I run with a purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. 1 Corinthians 9:26

The other night I was umpiring an adult softball game. Around here they call it a “beer league” because most of the players drink while they play. For the most part it is just a bunch of adults having fun, playing ball, and enjoying themselves. Occasionally, though, someone drinks too much. One of the players was clearly drunk and being loud, boisterous, and passive aggressive throughout the game. After the game he walked up to me on the field and said, “You know I’m just joking with you. You don’t need to take it seriously. You know I’m…” Before he could finish, I interrupted him and said, “Drunk.” His demeanor changed immediately. He became confrontational. Then I followed it up with, “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a secret?” It was pure sarcasm. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I had crossed the line. I wanted to apologize and I did, but I don’t think he’ll even remember, but I will.

On the drive home I did a step 10 inventory. I asked myself a few questions. Why did I say that? Why did I act that way? Why did I want to call him out and embarrass him? My sponsor has taught me that when I have a reaction, there is usually something more underneath it. So, I stayed with this and as I thought about it, I remembered another incident from years ago before recovery. I was traveling to a convention for work. A coworker showed up at the airport drunk and got even more drunk at the airport bar before a flight. He became loud, obnoxious, and completely unaware of how he was acting. He had shared he was terrified of flying. Instead of showing him grace, I took advantage of the situation. I encouraged him to be even louder and more obnoxious. I encouraged him to make a fool of himself and laughed at him as he did. It was the same feeling. The same reaction. As I sat with it, I asked what was I feeling? What was I getting out of this? I was taken back to when I was a child. Growing up, the alcoholic in my life was very different when he drank. When he was drunk, there was anger, humiliation, fear, and a feeling of powerlessness. Then I saw it. Part of me still wants to fight back. The problem is, I am fighting a ghost. I am unleashing my anger on people who were never responsible for my pain. When I encounter a drunk person today who is being loud and obnoxious, that little boy in me still wants to expose them, embarrass them, and take back the power he never had. He still wants to punish them and make them feel what he once felt.

What surfaced when I did my inventory was this: the softball player is responsible for his behavior and I am responsible for mine. I need to stop focusing on the other person’s actions and examine my own. Instead of justifying my meanness and sarcasm, I have learned to ask why it was there in the first place. What I uncovered that day is just another layer of anger, fear, and pain that I did not know was still there. I’m grateful that inventory helps me find my part. It helps me uncover hurts and pains from my past that are still influencing me today. Once they’re uncovered, I can surrender them to God and ask Him to continue healing them. As I continue doing my part, God faithfully does His. He renews my thinking, heals old wounds, and helps me respond differently than I did before. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for showing me another layer of what is really going on inside me. Help me to stop fighting ghosts and taking my pain out on people who didn’t cause it. Give me the courage to keep taking my own inventory, to own my part, and the willingness to let You heal what I cannot. Amen.

Choosing On Purpose

I Don’t Have To Wait

I am not limited to merely reacting. I can choose on purpose how I respond.

I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you today that I have offered you life or death, blessings or curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants will live. Deuteronomy 30:19

I umpired a softball tournament this past weekend. It was hot and dry. I had nine games to umpire. One specific game was in the heat of the day. It was midday, the hottest part of the day and it was a boring game. I was bored because there was not much action, not a lot of hitting and poor pitching.

One of the things I enjoy about umpiring girls’ softball is the atmosphere. The girls sing their chants, the teams play music between innings and they have walk-up songs when they come to bat. It’s just a different environment. Standing there in the heat during this slow game, I remembered something I have learned in recovery. If something works, I can choose to do it whenever I want. I may not be able to control the circumstances, but I can choose how I respond to them. So I decided I was going to have some fun. I started dancing and singing along with the music. The fans started chanting, “Go Blue! Go Blue!” The crowd got a little louder and a little more engaged. The players started laughing and giggling and dancing too. I’m sure part of it was because I’m such a terrible dancer.

What struck me in that moment was how simple the decision was. Nothing about the game had changed. It was still hot. It was still slow. It was still the middle of the afternoon. The circumstances were exactly the same. The only thing that changed was me. For years I wasted too much time waiting for circumstances to improve before I allowed myself to enjoy something. I would wait for the stress to go away, the problem to be solved, or the situation to get better. I am learning that I don’t have to wait for things to improve before I decide to enjoy where I am. I don’t have to wait for an invitation or be told to do it. I can choose to have fun and be happy if I want to, regardless of the circumstances and situation.

The game eventually picked up. The teams started hitting, the pitching got better and the game became exciting. Then a nice breeze came through and brought relief from that dry heat. It felt amazing. I’m not saying those things all happened because I started dancing to the music. But I’m not saying they didn’t either. What I am saying is that life doesn’t have to be put on hold until everything is perfect. I am not limited to merely reacting. I can choose on purpose how I respond, even if that means having a little fun right in the middle of unpleasant circumstances. When I can do that, I am choosing life. I am choosing to live life. And it is surprising how often the circumstances seem to change when I choose to be alive in the moment.

Prayer

God, thank You for giving me life. Help me choose to live this life and enjoy it to its fullest each day. Teach me how to be fully present wherever my feet are. Amen.

Suddenly Important

Asking Myself Why

The gift isn’t that I never get hurt. The gift is that I recognize it sooner and ask myself, “Why did it bother me?”

We are all in love with our own opinions, convinced they’re correct. But the Lord is in the midst of us, testing and probing our every motive. Proverbs 16:2

The other day I logged on to Facebook and noticed that someone I know and care about deeply had made several comments on the posts of a few mutual friends. Almost immediately, a thought crept into my mind. “Why don’t they ever comment on my posts? I write all the time.” I began entertaining that thought and having a full two-way conversation in my head. Before long, I felt hurt and offended. I found myself replaying old hurts and creating stories in my head. As I sat there thinking about it, I suddenly became aware that I was going down a rabbit hole. I knew where those thoughts would take me if I let them go unchecked. It was an old familiar place I had worked hard to leave behind. Then I asked myself, why was this person’s approval suddenly so important to me? It wasn’t important five minutes ago. It only became important after I saw their comments on someone else’s post.

One of the gifts I have received from working a 12 Step recovery program is learning to pay attention to what is happening inside of me. Instead of focusing on the other person, I have learned to ask myself why I am feeling or reacting the way I am. When I looked honestly at what was going on, I realized I was seeking approval. And I was seeking it from someone who either couldn’t or wouldn’t give it to me. Somehow, I had attached my sense of worth to receiving that approval. When I can recognize that, things begin to change. I stop focusing on what the other person is doing and start looking at what is happening inside of me. The issue is no longer their comments, their behavior, or their choices. The issue is my hurt feelings, my need for approval, and the old wound that has been triggered. What I was thinking and feeling was all about me being affected by my old wounds. It wasn’t about what the other person did or didn’t do. It’s my responsibility to deal with what is happening inside of me. I am not a victim. I have choices.

I once heard someone say that I cannot stop birds from flying over my head, but I can stop them from building a nest in my hair. The same is true of thoughts and feelings. I cannot always stop them from showing up, but I do not have to let them take up permanent residence. I have a choice about what I do with them once they arrive. Today, when I feel hurt, I try not to just push it away or pretend it’s not there. Instead, I acknowledge it, feel it, and ask myself why it is there. If I discover that a character defect, fear, expectation, or old wound has been uncovered, I don’t ignore it. I embrace it and try to find out what I can learn about myself and how I can grow. It is not that I never get hurt anymore. I am now able to recognize it sooner. I get to my part quicker. The hurt does not hurt as much as it once did, and sometimes it does not hurt at all. I am learning that most people are not trying to hurt me. They are simply living their lives, and sometimes I get hurt by their actions. When that happens, I now have a process. I write about it and take inventory. This helps me change my perspective. I ask God for help and surrender outcomes to Him. I am no longer responsible for the universe, He is. When I can do that, I sense His presence and His peace soon follows. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection

Has something recently caused an emotional reaction you weren’t expecting? What might be underneath that reaction?

Recognizing Old Behaviors

Seeing My Part

How do I know if I am practicing my recovery? When I can hear the truth about myself, even when it is not what I want to hear.

That you are to put away, as concerning your earlier way of life, the old man, which becomes evil by deceitful desires; And be made new in the spirit of your mind, And put on the new man, to which God has given life, in righteousness and a true and holy way of living. Ephesians 4:22-24

I recently had a conflict at work. An employee received a call from a client who questioned an invoice. She had decided that another employee made a mistake. I tried to calm her down and explain that we should find out what happened first before jumping to conclusions. The conversation shifted. The employee became defensive, argumentative, and interrupted me repeatedly. I got frustrated. The more I tried to explain, the more she argued. Eventually, I ended the conversation and walked away. Later, I spoke with her supervisor, asking if they could explain the concept to the employee. The supervisor agreed and made a passing comment that the employee and I seemed to be talking at each other instead of talking to each other.

To be honest, it would have been easy to just dismiss and ignore the comment. After all, the employee had been the one arguing. She had been the one refusing to listen. She even called the client back and threw me under the bus. It would have been easy to focus entirely on everything she had done wrong. I felt justified. But that is not recovery. Instead, I paused and thought about that comment the supervisor made. It resonated with me, not because it reflected the man I want to be today, but because I recognized traces of the man I used to be. One of the principles I have learned from working the steps is to look for my part in every conflict. Not because everything is my fault, but because in every conflict I have a part. It is up to me to be honest with myself and open-minded enough to find it.

As I thought about the situation, I realized that while I may have been right about the issue itself, I was no longer getting through to her. I was frustrated. I was repeating myself. I kept trying harder and harder to make my point. I realized that what I really wanted was for her to understand what I was trying to say. In my frustration, I had shifted into defensiveness, trying so hard to make my point that I stopped listening to understand. That is when I recognized I had drifted into old behavior.

What I am most grateful for today is not that the conflict was resolved. What I am grateful for is that I was able to hear the truth about my behavior in a passing comment without becoming defensive. Instead, I had a sincere desire to change and grow. Years ago, I would have spent all of my energy proving why I was right. Today, I am grateful that God has given me the willingness to look honestly at myself and to ask, “What is my part?” He has given me the courage to confront whatever it is and change. I am grateful that I know God is still working in my life because I can see things about myself today that I used to be blind to. That reminds me that He is not finished with me yet.

Reflection

Is there an old behavior you recognize in yourself that God may be asking you to address?

What Do I Want?

What Stays And What Goes

Growth isn’t always about fixing what is broken. Sometimes it’s about letting go of things that no longer belong.

But you, change the way you were living. The person you used to be will ruin you through desires that deceive you. Have a new attitude. Ephesians 4:22-23

I was listening to someone share recently about their house being flooded. After the water receded, people started calling and asking what they could do to help. One friend asked, “What do you need?” The homeowner responded, “The first thing I need to do is take inventory and assess the damage.” When he said that I knew instantly what he meant. He went on to explain that before he could do anything, he first had to figure out what was there. What was still good and what was ruined. What could be saved and what needed to be replaced. What he wanted to keep and what he wanted to get rid of. There might even be things that survived the flood just fine. Things he no longer wanted. And there were new things he wanted.

As I listened, something clicked for me. I have taken inventories in recovery for years. Usually when I think about taking an inventory, I think about answering Fourth Step questions. Those questions have helped me uncover resentments, fears, unhealthy patterns, and character defects that I could not see on my own. I knew what an inventory was. I had taken inventories at work and in recovery for years. But somehow, I had gotten stuck thinking that answering the questions was the inventory. I would answer the questions, share them with my sponsor, and gain insight in the process. What I suddenly realized was that the questions were never the inventory. They were tools that helped me break through denial and see what was already there. The inventory was always just an honest assessment of myself.

As I thought about that flooded house, I realized that is exactly what I am doing when I take inventory of my life. There are things God has been building in me over the years that I am grateful for and want to keep. There are also things I am still working on that need attention and repair. There are also things that I no longer want. Things like my need to control people and outcomes. My tendency to become defensive when I feel threatened. The walls I built to protect myself from being hurt. Those things may have helped me survive at one point in my life, but they no longer belong. Then there are qualities I want more of, like patience, humility, trust, compassion, and acceptance.

The gift I received from this story was the realization that even though some things survived the flood just fine, the homeowner no longer wanted them. It dawned on me that the same thing is true in my life. Some of the attitudes and behaviors that helped me survive no longer belong in the person I want to be. Today, when I take inventory, I am not just looking for what is broken and damaged. I am also looking for what no longer belongs and what I want in my life instead.

Reflection

What is one quality or character trait you would like more of in your life today?

A Trust Problem

Feeling Safe

My need to control uncovered a truth I was blind to. I didn’t trust God or the people who love me.

Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You. Psalm 56:3

I was listening to a speaker and started meditating on what she said. She shared that one of the reasons she argued in relationships was because she felt out of control. As soon as I heard that, I knew that was me. It was almost like I could finish what she was saying without ever hearing it. I felt like there was a huge spotlight shining on me and God was saying “This is you pal.” I realized that my first reaction in conflict was to defend and argue my position and beliefs. And I know it was because I felt out of control. As I meditated on it more and thought back on my relationships, I realized that my initial reaction when I feel out of control was always to fight. I felt attacked and would immediately defend myself and argue my position because being in control made me feel safe.

Quite honestly this became a huge problem in my marriage. A few years back, my relationship with my wife wasn’t the greatest. Our communication was suffering. We loved each other very much, but we argued a lot. We both love God. We’re both in recovery. We were both trying to do our best. We would pray about our problems and sincerely want things to be different, but somehow we would find ourselves having the same arguments over and over again. Many of the arguments were over stupid things too, that really didn’t matter. Then those little things would turn into “a thing” themselves. It was insane. I would get frustrated and honestly couldn’t understand why we kept getting stuck repeating the same pattern. Last year, I decided to start applying some recovery principles to my marriage more intentionally. One of those principles was simply considering the possibility exists that my wife could be right. Another was accepting things as they are instead of insisting they be the way I wanted them to be. Many times that meant keeping my mouth shut and listening instead of immediately responding, defending myself, or acting like a victim. The results were remarkable. Our relationship improved dramatically. We argued less, enjoyed each other more, and experienced a level of peace that had been missing for a while. Secretly, I thought it was because I was being “recovery man” and I patted myself on the back, because in my mind I was working my recovery. Is that pride? Yes! I am embarrassed to admit I thought this way, but I am just being honest. I was told early on that true healing comes from being completely honest.

Initially, I made those changes because I wanted peace in my relationship and didn’t want to argue. I was practicing recovery principles, keeping my mouth shut more often, and trying not to react. In my mind, that was why things were getting better. And there is some truth to that. But as I reflected on what the speaker said, I began to see something I had missed. One of the recovery principles I was trying to practice was considering the possibility exists that my wife could be right. But it was only an intellectual acknowledgement, because I never really considered that she might actually be right about me. For years she told me that I wasn’t taking responsibility for my part in our conflicts. I heard her words, but I mostly dismissed them as her trying to work my program. I would apologize and not give it another thought, and secretly continue believing that the real problem was not me.

As I got honest with myself, I began to see that my need to defend myself and argue wasn’t really about being right at all. It was about trust. When I felt out of control, I felt unsafe, and when I felt unsafe, I tried to regain control by defending my position and convincing others to see things my way. What I am learning now is that I don’t have to do that. I can trust God. I can trust that the people who love me are not my enemies. I don’t have to prove my point or win every disagreement to feel safe. I can listen. I can consider that someone else might really be right, even about me. The more I learn to trust, the less I feel the need to control. And the less I try to control, the more peace I experience in my life, my marriage, and my relationships. What I once thought was a communication problem seems to really be a trust problem, and learning to trust is bringing a freedom I never found through arguing, defending, or trying to be right. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for showing me that I don’t always have to defend myself. Help me let go of the need to be in control. Teach me how to trust You when I am afraid, and to trust those who love me. Amen.

Rethinking Love

What Love Looks Like

Just because something is true doesn’t mean it needs to be said. Sometimes love listens quietly as someone tells their story.

Knowledge puffs up while love builds up. 1 Corinthians 8:1

Recently I was reading through Recovery: A Guide for Adult Children of Alcoholics. One section that jumped out to me was talking about not beating ourselves up for the ways we learned to love and relate to other people. It wasn’t offering an excuse for unhealthy behavior. It was offering hope. It said that if I learned unhealthy behaviors as a child, I could also learn to replace those with healthy ones. As I started thinking about that, it led me to ask myself a few questions. Where did I learn how to love? How do I know what love looks like? How will I know if I am giving love and receiving love?

As I explored those questions, I finally started to see where my behaviors came from. For years I even dismissed my behaviors by saying, “That’s just the way I am.” Somehow, in my mind, that justified being dismissive, passive-aggressive, condescending, sarcastic, or critical. The confusing thing is that inwardly I really wanted to be caring, compassionate, and loving. Many times I honestly thought I was helping people. I would tell them what they needed to do, explain how they could fix their situation, or quote a scripture verse that applied to what they were going through. I’m not saying the advice was always wrong or that the scripture didn’t apply. But just because something is true doesn’t mean the way I delivered it was compassionate, or that it needed to be said at all. I was sharing from knowledge and not from experience. Then a Bible verse came to mind. Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. That stopped me. I realized that I wasn’t always sharing because people needed to hear what I had to say. Sometimes I was sharing because it made me feel important to have the answer. It made me feel loved.

Looking back, I don’t think my parents were trying to hurt me. I believe they loved me and wanted what was best for me. They did the best they knew how. They had their own struggles, and I cannot tell their story, but they were probably just passing on many of the things they learned growing up too. What I can say though, is that much of the attention I received as a child was critical, corrective, and often punitive. Like all human beings, I craved love. I began to associate correction, the attention I received, with love. I learned that pointing out what was wrong with people was how you showed that you cared. Because that was the kind of attention I received most often, I began to interpret correction itself as love. Since that was what I experienced, it became how I practiced love.

Today I am glad that I am learning how to love in healthy ways. By practicing the principles of recovery I can accept that love looks different than I thought it did. Love doesn’t always have all the answers. Love doesn’t always correct others. Love doesn’t always point out what is wrong. Sometimes love just accepts people where they are. Sometimes love simply listens quietly as someone tells their story. I still sense myself wanting to correct others or give them advice. The difference is that now I see it. I have a choice. Every day gives me another opportunity to practice a healthier way of loving others. And when I do that I find that I am often the recipient of that same kind of love and acceptance. And that is the greatest gift recovery has ever given me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for not giving up on me. Thank You for teaching me how to love in healthier ways. Thank You for helping me see things I could not see before. Slow me down so I can listen and accept people where they are. Help me to show compassion instead of criticism. Thank You for the love and acceptance I have received from You and in the rooms of recovery. Amen.

Right But Still Wrong

Delivery Matters

I may not owe amends for the message, but I do for the delivery.

If you’re angry, don’t let anger control you or be fuel for revenge, not for even a day.
Ephesians 4:26

Have you ever said something you knew was true, believed was right, and meant with all your heart, but said it in a way that was not representative of the person you are trying to be? I have. In fact, I just did two weeks ago while coaching my daughter’s softball team.

For the playoffs, the league made some last-minute rule changes that I strongly disagreed with. In my mind, the decisions were unfair to the girls who had worked hard and played all season long. As the games unfolded, I became more and more frustrated because I felt like the rules kept changing and the decisions being made were affecting the outcome of the games. During the championship game I confronted the league president publicly and emotionally. And honestly, I still believe the reasons for feeling the way I did are valid.

The surprising part is that we ended up coasting through the playoffs and winning the championship game easily. It should have been a great night of celebration for our team. But instead, I was awake for hours replaying the situation over and over in my mind. I have learned through recovery that when I start spinning in my mind and cannot let something go emotionally, there is usually something deeper going on inside of me. As I prayed and thought about it more, I realized I felt attacked. I felt like I was being ganged up on and dismissed. That is when I saw that my character defect of feeling “not good enough” had been triggered. Before recovery, I never would have stopped long enough to examine that. I only would have focused on proving I was right.

One of the gifts recovery has given me is the ability to honestly look at my reactions instead of only defending them. I still believe in standing up for what is right, but not at the expense of hurting others. I have learned to look at my actions and not just my intentions. I am responsible for how I deliver the message, not just the content. I may not owe amends for what I said or why I said it, but I do owe one for the way I said it. That is something I never would have seen before recovery.

I saw the league president the following weekend at a tournament. I walked over to her, lowered my sunglasses, looked her in the eyes and humbly apologized for my tone and for raising my voice. I apologized for being disrespectful and putting her on the spot publicly. She said “ok”. I have no idea what that may mean. But I know I felt better and that weight was lifted off of my shoulders. The thing I couldn’t stop replaying in my mind finally let go from that moment on. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Reflection
Have there been times when you were so focused on being right that you never stopped to look at how you were delivering the message?