Why I Didn’t Ask

I Matter

I used to think asking for help meant I was weak and would be rejected. Now I’m learning it leads to getting my needs met and building healthy relationships.

You do not have because you do not ask God. James 4:2

I never used to ask for help. Even when I desperately needed it, I tried to do everything on my own. That was my modus operandi. That was how I survived. Like the good little codependent I was, I believed I had to figure things out by myself. The problem was, I didn’t even really know what I wanted or needed. I didn’t know myself or who I was. More accurately, I was not honest with myself, and I stayed confused. Sometimes I knew I needed something but couldn’t quite identify what. Other times I had an idea but I was afraid to admit I had needs and wants. That would be weakness, and I had learned that weakness gets exploited. Weakness meant pain. So I avoided it. I stayed stuck in a kind of indecision, afraid of making the wrong choice, always thinking what if there could be a better one, the right one later.

I also believed there was a limit to how many times I could ask for help. Like I only had a certain number of requests. Like Aladdin and the genie with only three wishes. I thought I had to make sure I asked for the right thing, not something small or unimportant. I didn’t want to waste it. And if I asked for the wrong thing, what if later I really needed something and was told, “Too bad, you already used your chance.” I even carried this thinking into my relationship with God. I would hold back, even when the need was real. Underneath all of it was the same fear. If I ask, I might be told no. And in my thinking, being told no was the same as being rejected. And that went straight to what I already believed about myself, that I was not good enough.

Honestly, that type of thinking still shows up sometimes even today. The difference is that now my recovery has given me practical tools to bring my thinking back in line and demonstrate healthier behaviors. When this thinking creeps in now, I stop and ask myself what am I feeling, and why? Almost every time it traces back to me feeling like I am not good enough. And when I can identify that little dude, I am able to see it for what it is, my issue. It starts to lose its power. I remind myself of something simple. If someone asked me for help, I would help if I could. I would not refuse them just because. I would not think they used up their chances. This helps me realize that when I ask for help, I am not being unreasonable, and they are not going to reject me or arbitrarily deny my request. When I look at it that way, I can see how distorted and unrealistic my thinking can be.

Today I practice something different. I ask for help when I need it. It’s not always easy. One slogan helps me a lot, “How important is it?”. It helps me not just when I make things bigger than they need to be, but also when I make my needs smaller than they really are. When something is truly important and I need help, I have to ask. Sometimes that means literally telling myself, “Ask for help!” And I do. Almost every time, help comes. The extra benefit is that it strengthens my relationships. They grow closer. What used to feel like weakness is actually where connection happens. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, help me ask for what I need. Show me when fear is holding me back. Remind me I am not being rejected. Teach me to trust You and the people You’ve placed in my life. Thank You. Amen.

Learning To Grow Up

No More Proving

I’m learning that my worth isn’t tied to what I do. I don’t have to earn love and acceptance. I’m starting to see I can slow down, rest, and still have value.

When I was a child, my words and my feelings and my thoughts were those of a child; now that I am a man, I have no more use for the ways of a child. 1 Corinthians 13:11

I was doing some step work and writing about having boundaries with myself, and it started taking me deeper than I expected. I began asking myself tougher questions. They were hard to ask and even harder to answer. My first instinct was to just move on and be content with the awareness, but I had that little nudge inside me telling me I was close to something and I just need to keep going. Why do I push myself past exhaustion? Why do I feel like I always have to be doing something? Is that tied to my character defects? Feeling like I am not good enough? Rejection? Do I feel like I have to do good in order to be loved? When I honestly work the steps, I learn more about why I do the things I do. As I slow down and look at my motives, I start to see there is something deeper driving me. This stuff is real, and it really helps me. I understand why they call it a “Fearless” moral inventory. Fear almost stopped me from pursuing these feelings.

I can see how easily I place my value and worth on what I do. I want to be successful and productive. And if I am honest, since I am not financially wealthy, there is a part of me that thinks maybe I would be considered successful by doing good things, helping others, and ministering through my writing. None of those things are wrong, but I can see how I have tied my worth to them. If I am producing, I feel okay. If I am not, something feels off. I rationalize that even if what I do doesn’t produce wealth financially, maybe I would still be considered successful by enriching others’ souls. The amazing thing about step work is that once I uncover the truth about why I do what I do and find my part, I begin to see what I can do to change unwanted behaviors. Most of the time, the change first shows up in how I am thinking, not in what I am doing. It is learning to see myself and others differently. I begin to be open-minded and realize that most of my problems come from inside of me, from how I perceive what is happening in my life. There is no looking for fault or blame but simply taking responsibility to change.

I did not cause the psychological damage that was done to me, and I was powerless to stop it as a child. But I am not a child anymore. My desire now is to stop reacting like one emotionally. That is where recovery becomes practical. It teaches me how to pause, how to look at what is really driving me, and how to make a different choice. I can see now that I have been trying to prove my worth by what I do. I do not have to prove my worth or value anymore. My identity is in God. My value and worth come from Him. I rest knowing that He loves and accepts me because He is good, not because I am. I am learning how to grow up, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. And even now, as I write this, I feel like I am close to something new. I sense a new awareness emerging. I am just starting to see my motives more clearly. And as I learn to rest in God, I begin to accept myself as I am. That is me growing up.

Prayer

Father, help me stop trying to prove my worth. Teach me to rest in who You say I am. Thank You. Amen.

Safe With Me

Trusting Myself

How I treat myself matters. Recovery is teaching me to take better care of myself.

No one abuses his own body, does he? No, he feeds and pampers it. That’s how Christ treats the church, Ephesians 5:29

Lately I have been overextending myself. In my mind I think I am like the energizer bunny and I can just keep going and going. My body though has a different response, and if I am not careful, I will run myself into the ground. I get run down and more susceptible to getting sick. It starts by staying up way too late trying to get everything done I want to do. Even in practicing my recovery, I stay up late reading, writing, and editing. I am also trying to write a book. Consequently, I don’t get enough sleep, and I am tired the next day, not always at my best and not performing at my best. I also find that I can be less patient and short with people. My intent and heart is good, but I am not practicing healthy boundaries with myself. My intentions do not justify my actions. I am not treating myself with care and respect.

I was reading some literature this past weekend. In it the person mentioned that they set boundaries with themself. I paused. I had to reread it a few more times. It didn’t quite click with me at first, but I knew there was something there. Something I needed to hear and see. As I sat with it, I began to connect it to my own life. I have learned about boundaries, and I have set them with other people. But I never thought about setting a boundary with myself. I used to think boundaries were only about other people. Who I let into my life and how I allowed them to treat me. Boundaries helped me determine what I would tolerate and what I would say no to. But I am learning that some of the most important boundaries are the ones I need to set with myself. Was I being too hard on myself? Why do I push myself past exhaustion? Am I trying to prove something? I did not realize that I was the one who was mistreating me.

As I prayed and meditated on this, I began to see how I talk to myself and how I treat myself. I would replay mistakes and blame myself, and that would lead to shame. I would expect perfection and then feel disappointed and discouraged when I couldn’t live up to such an unrealistic expectation. I am simply being human. Sometimes I would excuse behavior I knew was not healthy. I was being codependent with myself. I crossed my own lines constantly. A healthy boundary with myself means I take responsibility for my actions without condemning myself. I rest without feeling guilty. I tell myself the truth without exaggeration. I am learning to stop crossing my own lines and calling it okay.

When I run myself down, I feel it. I feel it in my body, in my attitude, and in how I treat other people. This is not just about being tired. It is about how I am choosing to treat myself. I don’t want to keep living like that. I want to feel safe with myself so that I can trust myself. I am learning to slow down, to stop when I need to stop, and to take care of myself in a way that actually supports my recovery. That means I don’t keep pushing past my limits and calling it good. I am responsible for how I treat myself.

Prayer
Father, help me treat myself the way You treat me. Show me where I push too far. Teach me to slow down, to rest, and to live in a way that supports my recovery. I want to be safe with myself so I can trust myself. Thank You. Amen.

Why Did I Stomp My Foot?

Looking Within

When I feel unheard or unimportant, my reactions can come out fast. Recovery teaches me to pause, look deeper, and take responsibility for my part.

Let’s take a good look at the way we’re living, examine our ways, and then turn back to the Lord. Lamentations 3:40

My wife and I had to be gone for the whole day, and we were having a discussion about what to do with our dogs while away. I offered a couple of suggestions. We could leave them home in our backyard, which is completely enclosed and safe, or we could board them for the day. My wife then started asking me a lot of questions about who would look after them, who would feed them, who would take them to go potty, how often, and where they would go. Was the area enclosed? Were the people qualified? She was genuinely concerned for our pets. Each time she asked a question, I would try to answer, but then another question would come immediately after, sometimes before I could even finish the first one. I couldn’t speak fast enough or finish the answer. We started circling back to the same things, and I felt like I couldn’t keep up or get a complete thought out. Then I stomped my foot and said, “Nothing is going to happen to them. They will be fine.” She got upset, said I was being aggressive, and walked away.

That bothered me. I am not an aggressive person by nature. I am a big guy and I am usually confident and assertive. So I am aware my presence alone can be intimidating. So I honestly asked myself, “Why did I stomp my foot? Was I being aggressive? I don’t feel aggressive.” So I asked myself another question, “What was I feeling when I stomped my foot?” After I sat with it for a moment, I realized what I was feeling. I felt unheard. I felt unimportant. Those feelings are familiar to me. Unfortunately, I know them all too well. They mean there is something more going on inside me that needs to be looked at. I knew that I needed to write about it. What I uncovered was that I felt like I am not good enough. I felt afraid. It seemed odd that I would stomp my foot out of fear, so I dug a little deeper. I asked, “What was I afraid of?” I saw that I was afraid I would not have the right answer. And if I don’t have the right answer, my wife won’t be happy. If she is not happy, she might leave me. That one hit me at my core. The fear of rejection and abandonment. And if she leaves me, I will be alone. Unwanted. Unloved. That was all about me.

This is where recovery helps me. Before recovery I would have never even asked why I stomped my foot. I would have gotten angry, defended my actions and then focused on hers. But now I stop and do an inventory like this. I do it right away too. I don’t wait for things to get worse or escalate into an argument or fight. I try to find my part as soon as I can. Whenever I honestly take this approach, I am always able to find my part. Once I saw my part, I prayed and asked God for wisdom. The solution was owning my part fully. Being aware of it wasn’t enough. I needed to come clean to my wife and make amends. After I wrote about it, I went back to my wife. I owned what I did. I told her the truth about what was really going on inside me. I made it right. That is not something I would have done before recovery. I am so glad I did.

Today I am grateful for the tools of inventory and amends. I can use them in my everyday moments to help me recover. They help me move through these moments instead of being controlled by them. I am not stuck with the same reactions I used to have. I am learning to live with more peace, more awareness, and more freedom. I am slowly and surely breaking through those character defects and receiving healing in my life. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer
Father, help me see my part and own it when I feel uncomfortable. Give me the courage to make it right. Thank You. Amen.

The Problem Could Be Me

I Need To Change

Recovery started working when I stopped trying to change others and started looking honestly at myself.

Each person must examine his own actions. Then he can be proud of his own accomplishments and not compare himself to others. Assume your own responsibility. Galatians 6:4–5

When I first came into recovery, I was looking for relief from the pain I was carrying. I knew I needed help, but I still wanted to do things my way. Control had helped me survive growing up in an alcoholic home, so it was the only way I really knew how to approach life. I truly wanted things to get better. But if I’m honest, what I really wanted was for the pain to stop.

So early on I tried to do recovery on my own. I bought a step book and started answering the questions by myself. I thought I was doing what everyone else was talking about. I was becoming aware that I had problems that were not going to resolve themselves automatically. I was motivated to find the answer so I could go home and fix things myself. But I still wanted recovery to happen on my terms. My way. That was part of the problem. I didn’t come into recovery to change myself. I came looking for relief from the hurt and damage I was feeling. What I didn’t understand yet was that recovery was never meant to be worked alone. The people who were finding the kind of freedom I wanted were not doing it by themselves. They were working the steps with sponsors and learning to let the group help them see things they could not see on their own.

I can still remember the moment vividly. It was after a meeting during what we often call the meeting after the meeting. I can still see the dimly lit room, the literature table set up against the wall and me standing next to it. I was speaking with two members of the group that I had gotten to know. They had been trying to share something with me for several weeks, and that night it finally got through. This was all about me changing me. If this was going to work, I needed to do it for me. My healing would come when I focused on myself instead of the person I was trying to fix. When I first came to recovery, it was not to change me. It was to find out how to fix the problem. It was to get relief from the hurt and pain I was in. But it wasn’t until that moment that I considered the possibility that the problem could be me. That is when I began to focus on changing me.

That realization opened the door to a new way of living. The change did not happen overnight and to say it was always easy would be a lie. But I will say it has definitely been worth it. After finding a sponsor and doing step work with him, I started to see small changes. Over time those small changes led to bigger ones. Today I understand something I could not see back then. I cannot change if I don’t want to. I must first be willing. Then, when I become willing to change, God begins creating something new in me. I can feel and see the transformation. I am becoming a new person. I like who I am now. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, help me keep my focus on changing me instead of trying to fix others. Give me the willingness and courage to make the changes You show me. Amen.

Wherever I Go, There I Am

New thinking. New life

I am not stuck with my old thinking forever. When I change my thinking, my life begins to change too.

Let God change you inside by giving you a new way of thinking. Then you will know what God wants you to do. And you will know how good and pleasing and perfect his will really is. Romans 12:2

I used to automatically do things because that was how I had always done them. Even when something inside me said, don’t do this, it’s not right, I would speak back to myself and say, I made my mind up. I can’t change it without feeling like I was doing something wrong. Once I decided something, I believed I had to follow through no matter what the consequences were. It was like I was stuck and could not break free. There were no alternatives. I had made up my mind and that was that. My thinking. I cannot escape from my own thinking. It goes with me everywhere. Wherever I go, there I am.

Looking back now, I can see that this is one of the effects of growing up in an alcoholic home and developing the sick thinking that I have. Certain reactions became automatic. Certain ways of handling things just felt normal to me. Even when those ways were not healthy. So what are my options? Do I even have any? Or am I doomed in life to keep repeating the same cycle of sickness forever? Do I have to keep doing the same thing and keep getting the same disappointing results? Never changing. Somehow, deep inside, I sort of always knew there were other options. I saw my friends’ and classmates’ families. I visited their homes. Their family situations seemed much different. They behaved much different too. As I grew older, I would occasionally have an awareness that there might be other options available to me, but I had no knowledge or experience of how to realize that change. What do I do? How do I do whatever it is that needs to be done? And do I have the courage to take action and follow through once I find out? That is where recovery comes in.

I was speaking with my sponsor about this and that’s when I had the aha moment. Before recovery I seemed unable to change my mind. Once I made my mind up about something I believed I had to do it. But since joining recovery and working the steps, my thinking has gradually begun to change. I realized that I am not a victim any longer. I may have been a victim growing up as a child, but I am no longer a child. I am no longer living in that home with my family of origin. I do have choices now. I can change my mind if I want to and whenever I want to. I am no longer trapped believing I must do something simply because I decided it before. I can change my mind and not feel guilty for it. I don’t know why I felt guilt for it either, but I did. But no longer. Changing my mind does not mean I did something wrong.

By working the steps with my sponsor, my thinking is constantly changing. When my thinking changes, then my behaviors change. When my behaviors change, then my life changes too. The great news is that now I can change my mind whenever I want. It’s my mind for heaven’s sake. That brings me hope and so much optimism for the future. I now have peace and happiness that stays with me. If I feel them start to drift, I just change my thinking and my feelings begin to change with it. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for showing me that my thinking can change. Help me recognize when old patterns try to return. Teach me to keep surrendering my thoughts to You so that my life can continue to change. Amen.

The Leading Role

Stepping Into My Own Life

Recovery helps me move from watching life happen to actually living it.

What helped you step forward instead of staying on the sidelines?

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came to give life—life in all its fullness.
John 10:10

I was watching the movie The Holiday, and one scene really stood out to me. There’s a moment where a woman named Iris finally hears the truth she’s been starving for. She has spent years attached to someone who never chooses her, surviving on just enough attention to keep her hooked but never enough for a real relationship. She keeps diminishing herself and settling for less, convinced she somehow deserved her fate and was not worthy of real love. One day she opens up about it to an older man she has befriended, Arthur, a retired screenwriter. After listening to her story, he says something simple but profoundly powerful: “In the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You’re a leading lady, but for some reason you’re behaving like the best friend.” The words hit unexpectedly. As it sinks in, she says out loud, “I ought to be the leading lady of my own life.” Arthur was not criticizing her. He was helping her see something she had been blind to. She had been living like a side character in her own story, letting someone else’s choices define her worth and value. It is really a moment about identity. It is about waking up to the truth that you matter.

That line stayed with me. I realized I had faced something similar, something I never saw before recovery. Was I living like a background character in my own life? I asked myself, How often have I been the audience instead of the participant? How often have I stood by like a bystander and simply let life happen around me? Before recovery those kinds of questions would never have crossed my mind. I simply reacted to life, often stuck in old patterns of thinking that kept me passive, discouraged, or disconnected. I reacted. I survived. I managed chaos. I tried to earn love and avoid pain. Somewhere along the way I learned to stay small. I stopped expecting much. Most of the time I assumed the worst before anything even happened. I spent a lot of time taking care of everyone else while ignoring my own feelings and needs. Looking back now, I can see how easily I let other people’s choices define how I felt about myself. I did not even realize I was doing it. But God did not create me to live in the shadows of my own life.

Recovery has given me something I did not have before. It has given me awareness. It helps me slow down and look honestly at what is really happening instead of what I tell myself is happening. I am learning to respond differently now. Little by little, recovery is helping me step into my own life instead of standing on the sidelines watching it pass by. For a long time I lived as if life was happening around me instead of something I was meant to live. But my life was never meant to be lived by someone else. It is my life. And with God’s help I am learning to live it.

Prayer

Father, help me live my life fully. Show me where I draw back. Give me the courage to step forward into the life You have for me. Thank You. Amen.

Asking Instead of Assuming

Clearing the Air

Fear tries to fill in the blanks when things are uncertain. My recovery tools help me slow down and face things directly.

He who gives an answer before he hears, it is foolish and a cause of shame to him. Proverbs 18:13

Last week my boss had a meeting with two department heads who report to me. I was not invited to the meeting, and that hurt my feelings. The meeting was about bringing on a new doctor, which normally falls under my responsibility. When I heard about it, I felt upset and a little afraid. I started wondering if there was a reason I was not included. After the meeting my boss told me everything they had discussed, but it still bothered me. That is when I had the thought, I have recovery tools now. I wonder which recovery principle or tool could help me with this situation? I paused and thought about my options.

In the past I would’ve just gone on and not asked why I wasn’t included. I would’ve continued as everything was normal, all the while wondering why and holding resentment. This time, I decided to ask why I wasn’t invited to the meeting. There could be a perfectly valid reason that had nothing to do with me. At the same time, my mind quickly jumped to fear. What if I’m being replaced? What if they no longer need me? That threatens my security. It hits deeper. It triggered my core defect of feeling I’m not good enough. When that shows up, I know that this is about me and not what’s happening. So, I did what I learned in recovery. I prayed about it and wrote about it. I asked God for guidance. What became clear was that I struggle with uncertainty. It is the worst for me. When things are left hanging in the air, my mind will fill in the blanks, usually with fear. The tools of recovery give me a practical way to approach this. The solution was to simply ask the question.

Recovery has taught me that I can ask a question without being accusatory, without sarcasm, and without putting anyone else down. A simple inquiry. And then, be willing to accept the response without being defensive. I resisted the urge to ask the department heads their opinion, so as not to cause division or gossip. I asked my boss simply, calmly and directly, why I wasn’t included in the meeting. I was told that it was not meant to exclude me. That is why I was informed afterward about everything that was covered. But because they had spent more time talking about medical procedures, it didn’t pertain to me. I still didn’t like that I was not included, but I understood and I felt like I handled it not just professionally, but in a healthier way than I would have before.

Before recovery, I would never have asked why I wasn’t included. I would have let that cloud of uncertainty hang over my head indefinitely. I am grateful for my recovery. It helps me address things directly instead of letting them continually spin in my mind. I feel like I fit into the world and I can move forward. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for the recovery tools You have given me. Help me to slow down and not give in to fear. Help me to seek You for guidance. Give me courage to address things that I used to avoid and the wisdom to know how to do it. Thank You for helping me grow and learn healthier ways to live. Amen.

Maybe I Can Do Five Minutes

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. Psalm 119:105

Maybe I can do five minutes. That thought came to me during one of the most overwhelming seasons of my life. My mind had been running nonstop with fear and worst-case scenarios. What am I going to do now? Where will I live? My life is over. I could not focus at work. I could barely think straight. My mind was stuck in a nonstop loop, cycling through these questions over and over. I could not turn it off.

At the time, I was brand new to recovery and I remember reading the line on the Just For Today bookmark that said, “Just for today, I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I thought I had to do it for the rest of my life.” My immediate reaction was disbelief. I even questioned where the care and acceptance were in this idea. Twelve hours? No way! I cannot even do one hour. I couldn’t even handle fifteen minutes. But then a small thought rose up in me: maybe I can do five minutes. I wasn’t even sure I could do that. Then another small thought crept up: Maybe I could at least try it? So, for five minutes I decided not to think about everything that was scaring me. I purposely thought about good things and things I wanted instead of what I didn’t want. When the worries came back, I tried another five minutes. What surprised me was how those small pieces of time began to stretch. Five minutes became ten. Then fifteen, then thirty. Then longer. Somewhere in that process God was helping me even when I didn’t know it. He was doing for me what I could not do for myself. He found a way to get through my own poor me thinking, where I was stuck feeling sorry for myself, so that I could embrace a new way of thinking and a new way of life. The little bit of recovery I had was already working and I didn’t even realize it at the time. New thoughts? Try something on my own? What a concept… What a gift!

Recovery still works that way for me today. When my mind starts racing or life feels overwhelming and out of control, I try to embrace this same type of thinking. I come back to that lesson. I remind myself I do not have to solve all of life’s problems today. I only need to take the next right step. I have learned that progress rarely happens all at once. It usually happens one small choice at a time. Five minutes at a time. One step at a time. Today I can do something for a short time that would appall me if I thought I had to do it forever.

Reflection
What small amount of time can I commit to right now to get through a hard moment?

Right In Front Of Me

Noticing Again

What becomes familiar can quietly become unappreciated. Gratitude keeps the most important things in my life from becoming invisible.

What is something in your life that you want to notice and appreciate again today?

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights. James 1:17

The past few days, I found myself really appreciating my wife. I started thinking about how much she means to me and how many qualities she has that I admire. The way she loves me. The way she accepts me. The way she makes me feel wanted. When I really stopped and thought about it, all the things that made me fall in love with her in the first place are still there. Nothing about her has changed. At the same time, I began to realize how easily I had stopped noticing. Sometimes what is most amazing and special can become so familiar that I stop seeing it. Working the steps helps me notice this and own it more easily. Instead of pretending I haven’t stopped noticing, I can acknowledge it and look for ways to change without guilt or shame for simply being human.

This realization started while I was writing about my Higher Power and thinking about the qualities I believe He has. Loving. Accepting. Understanding. Guiding. Stronger than me. As I thought about those qualities, it struck me that many of the same things I admire about my Higher Power are also present in my wife. That made me pause. If something as wonderful as my wife can become so familiar that I begin to take her for granted, I wondered if I might sometimes do the same thing with God. When something good becomes part of everyday life, it is easy to stop appreciating it the way I once did.

Recovery has given me many practical tools to help me navigate life and make different choices so I can get better results. My first thought was making a gratitude list is always a good idea. There is never a wrong time to stop and name what I am thankful for. So I decided to make a gratitude list about my wife and about my Higher Power. Then I had another thought, a different thought. Something I had not thought of before. I did not want to stop with just writing the list down. I wanted to say it out loud and verbalize my gratitude and thankfulness. I told my wife the things I had written down. I told her how I appreciate her and am so very thankful for her. I told God the things I am grateful for about Him too. In doing that, I realized something simple but very powerful. When I express my gratitude to those I love, it keeps the love alive. It keeps me from drifting into taking the best parts of my life and the people in my life for granted. And when I do that, something changes in me. I feel more aware, more connected, and more thankful. I am proud of who I am becoming. This is the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for the people You have placed in my life. Help me not to take them for granted. Teach me to slow down and notice the people and blessings You have given me. Help me to show love through gratitude. Amen.

Not Good Enough?

Thinking Accurately

Sometimes the loudest voice in my head is the one telling me I’m not enough. Recovery has taught me to question that voice, inventory it, and replace it with truth. This is what learning to think accurately looks like.

Think of yourself with sober judgment, according to the measure of faith God has given you.
Romans 12:3

My wife and I have been talking about possibly moving to another area that would be closer to family. It’s a very big decision. I like my job and I like what I do. So I started looking at similar job opportunities in that area. I found several openings that match exactly what I already do. Same field. Same responsibilities. Same level. On paper, there is no difference. It is the exact same thing I am doing now. But in my mind, there is. I found myself hesitating, pulling back, and closing the page because I believed I wasn’t qualified.

I began thinking those positions were far more important than what I do now. Those companies must be more professional. The job must be bigger, more demanding, more significant. Even though I hold the same title and do the same work, I started believing I might not be qualified to do it somewhere else. That I might not measure up. That I might not perform at the level they would expect. I realized I was looking down on my own performance, quietly labeling my role as not good enough. That felt familiar, and I didn’t like the way it felt. Then I heard my sponsor’s voice in my head asking, What is the common denominator? Of course I know the answer. Me. I am seeing myself as less than again.

In my current role, I have seen real success. Under my leadership we have reached milestones the company had never reached before. We implemented strategies and achieved goals they had wanted for years but never could accomplish. I have been told directly that my leadership made the difference. That made me feel good. I felt like I was doing a good job and appreciated. Yet when I imagine doing the same job somewhere else, something inside me whispers, You’re not good enough. That surprised me. As I reflected on it, I began to meditate and pray. Then I did some writing. I was struck with my character defect of feeling not good enough. It’s right there, staring me in the face.

Recovery has taught me the only way through this is through it. It’s not just going to happen automatically. So I decided to stop and inventory what is actually there. I have done many physical inventories in my career and I understand the concept. An inventory does not judge the items on the shelf. It simply acknowledges what is there. When I apply that honestly to my life, I see that I have strengths, not just weaknesses. I have qualities I look for when I interview other candidates. I have experience. I have perseverance. I have a proven track record. I also have fear. But fear is just another inventory item. It does not get to override the reality of everything else that is there.

Today, after doing an honest inventory and applying recovery principles, I can name it for what it is: a character defect rooted in feeling not good enough. I never would have seen that before recovery. I would not have questioned that inner voice. I would have believed it was who I was. It does not just disappear. But I am aware of it now, and it no longer controls me. I recognize it, name it, face it, and release it. Humility is not thinking less of myself. It is thinking accurately about myself. God has brought healing in my life and walked me through years of growth, challenges, and victories. To deny what He has done in me is not humility. It is another layer of denial. Now, instead of believing that voice, I choose to live in the truth of what God has done in me. That is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You for showing me when old patterns try to hinder me and keep me stuck. You are my source and strength. You always see me through. Help me to see myself the way You see me. When old voices rise up, remind me of the work You have already done in me. Give me the courage to live in Your truth and not shrink back in fear. Amen.

Waking Up

Awareness Is The Beginning

Easier isn’t always better.

Awake, you who sleep, arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light. Ephesians 5:14

I was watching the movie The Matrix and thinking about the scene where Neo is offered a choice between the red pill and the blue pill. The red pill represents truth and having your eyes opened. The blue pill represents continuing on as you are. There’s a scene where Cipher says, Why didn’t I take the blue pill? I can relate to that in my recovery. Breaking through denial and seeing reality did not automatically fix everything. It simply made me aware that I needed to change. That was not what I thought I was signing up for when I first came.

Just like in the movie, there are intense battles that I had been oblivious to before. There is pain. There is the shock of realizing things are not what I thought they were. And then there is something harder. Seeing myself as I really am instead of who I thought I was. Awareness is uncomfortable. Identification is humbling. But change is where the real work begins. I began to realize how much work recovery would require. It was a huge learning curve. And there was unlearning too. That may have been the hardest part. I did not just need awareness. I needed change. Having my eyes opened was only the start.

I remember having similar thoughts when I was doing my Fourth Step moral inventory. Why did I agree to this? It was hard, laborious, and painful. I did not want to think about the things I had tried so hard to forget. And then to honestly see my part in all of it. I did not sign up for that. I have heard others say life was better before recovery and working through the steps. I understand the feeling. But was it really? For me it wasn’t better. It may have been easier. So much easier. But it definitely wasn’t better.

I came to my first meeting on my own, looking for some self help answers and a way to fix my family. What I found were people who had been where I was, sharing their experience, strength, and hope. Honestly, I could not have done this on my own. I am grateful there were people in those rooms doing their own step work, especially those living out the Twelfth Step. They did not tell me what to do. They pointed me in the right direction. Start with surrender. Ask God for help. Stop trying to fix everyone else and start working on the person in the mirror. That is not a cliché. It is real. It is what helped me break free.

Yes, there was a time when I wondered why I joined recovery and whether it was doing any good. But then I looked at what was different. I had peace. I was happier. I had real friendships. When I looked in the mirror, I was beginning to like who I saw. There’s a hope that wasn’t there before. And that hope feels good. Really good. Life still gets hard, but I do not face it the same way. Recovery has given me tools. God has given me strength. That did not happen overnight. It came from staying awake, doing the work, and trusting God in the process. I am so glad I am here. Waking up was hard, painful, and ugly, but it brought healing and led me back to God.

Reflection
Am I choosing what feels easier, or what I know is better?

Detachment With Love

Care Without Control

I thought detachment meant pushing people away. I had to learn it meant loving without managing.

Each one should carry their own load. Galatians 6:5

Detachment is separating myself emotionally from another person’s behavior. There are healthy attachments and unhealthy attachments, and detachment is breaking free from the unhealthy ones. When I first heard about detachment, I was eager to practice it. I heard it talked about in the rooms and how it was the solution for breaking free from the hold. I learned already I had developed unhealthy attachments and I wanted the freedom spoken about. What I mysteriously missed though was the “with love” part. I heard detachment and I was ready. I did not hear with love.

The first time I tried to practice detachment, I did it by setting a boundary. I was new and thought detachment and boundaries were the same thing. I had never done either before, and when I finally did, it was clumsy and ugly. I remember telling my mom I was getting divorced. She started crying. I had been here before. At first I was angry. I thought she was using her tears to control my emotions and maneuver me into comforting her. I saw it as another attempt to shift the focus away from what I was going through. I was already hurting. I did not want the divorce. My family was being ripped apart. My future felt uncertain. So many emotions were surfacing that I did not even know what I was feeling, except sad and alone. I didn’t have anything left to comfort her. I had heard about detachment and boundaries and wanted to practice what I was learning. Instead of pausing and sorting through my own emotions, I reacted. I said, rather gruffly, why are you crying? This isn’t about you. This is about me. I even said I was setting a boundary and would not be manipulated anymore. She stopped crying and went silent.

Like I said, I was new in recovery and still learning. I had successfully set a boundary, but it wasn’t detachment and it wasn’t with love. Internally I was a kid again. I was still trying to feel safe by controlling the environment. I was trying to protect myself from being engulfed by her feelings because I could barely manage my own. That was not detachment with love. That was fear wrapped up with new language. I was more addicted to approval than I realized. Addicted to her reaction. Addicted to feeling secure based on how she responded to me. As I began to work through the Steps and grow, I stopped looking to other people to determine my value. I have intrinsic value because of my Creator. My sponsor says forgiveness is the best form of detachment, and I think he is right. When I forgive, I let go of trying to control what is not mine.

After working through the Steps with my sponsor, I can honestly say that today things are different. If someone I love starts crying, I pause. I check my urge to control their emotions. I let them have their feelings, and I let myself have mine. I don’t have to fix them or silence them. I don’t have to correct them either. When I need to set a boundary, I do not have to announce it. I just live it. It is for me, not for them. I say what I mean and mean what I say without being mean when I say it. I practice acceptance. The Serenity Prayer helps a lot with that. I offer forgiveness. This is how I know I am practicing detachment with love: I can care without control. That shows love and respect for them and for me.

Prayer
Father, teach me to practice detachment with love. Heal the wounds inside me that cause me to control instead of trust. When I feel uncomfortable, help me pause instead of react. Give me courage to forgive those who have hurt me. Amen.

Learning to Celebrate

I Am Worthy

Being noticed used to feel dangerous. Today I’m learning that I am worthy.

The Lord your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

I never got too excited or put too much credence into celebrations. I’m not sure why though. I know that birthdays have always been a let down for me because my birthday is in December and it was always anti-climactic. Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed to be good holidays. They seemed to be a time when the family was together and peaceful. Other than that, I can’t ever really remember getting too excited about anything growing up. There are several things I do remember getting excited about as a kid, but I also remember being let down. Mostly because of a lot of broken promises. So, if I got my hopes up, I was afraid they would get crushed again. I think that has carried over into celebrations of any kind. The huge swing in emotions from happiness and excitement to sadness and despair rattled me. I felt lost and alone. I didn’t like it. I determined it would be better if I stayed even and steady emotionally. At least that way I would know what to expect. I wouldn’t be disappointed and feel rejected. I wouldn’t get hurt. It felt safe. But shielding myself from my feelings has robbed me of experiencing those emotions. I didn’t risk being excited or happy because I didn’t like feeling sadness and disappointment. Consequently, I never learned how to handle my emotions in a healthy way. I can look back now and see that it was a survival skill that I developed as a child, but as an adult, that’s not productive.

Today I try to embrace the celebrations that happen on a regular basis in my life. I am not always successful. I spent over 40 years developing a certain lifestyle, way of thinking and certain habits. Many were unhealthy. That old way of thinking doesn’t go away so easily or quickly. Changing takes time. But I am seeing progress. I celebrate occasionally. But mostly, I recognize the times when I want to celebrate but hold back. When I have this awareness, I acknowledge it and try to do something about it. If I am hurt or slow to change, I know I always have a part. My job is to find out why I feel and act the way I do. The recovery tool I use most is taking an honest spot check inventory. That helps me find my part. Then I can talk with my sponsor about it. This is how I work Steps 4 and 5 in real time. After doing this, I find that I am more confident celebrating without feeling guilty about it. I have discovered I can still celebrate an event even if it’s not in the moment. I can still experience the emotions. It doesn’t have to be in the exact instance that it occurs.

I recently had a milestone in my recovery, what we commonly call a non-belly button birthday. That’s the day that we celebrate the anniversary of starting recovery and beginning our sobriety. I celebrated 18 years of continuous sobriety. The date came and went without much recognition, until my wife said to me “Happy birthday. Today is your recovery birthday”. And then a smile crept across my face and I said “Yeah, it is. Thank you for remembering”. It was nice to be recognized. I was happy and glad that she remembered without me mentioning it. I felt noticed. I felt like I was important. I had to resist that old feeling of not wanting to be too happy. It is the flip side of feeling hurt or ignored. Going unnoticed hits my core defect of not being good enough. Today I am happy and grateful that I’ve made progress. Even if there wasn’t much fanfare or a big to do, I am thankful she said something. Through working my recovery, I have come to believe that I am a person of value and worth. I am worthy of being celebrated. Maybe next year I will grow enough to be able to let people know ahead of time without feeling like I might be let down. Today I will celebrate my progress.

Prayer

Father, thank You for the progress You have helped me make. Show me how to celebrate the way You celebrate. Remind me that I am seen and valued by You. Teach me how to live without fear and without bracing for disappointment. Help me continue growing into the person You say I am. Amen.

Feeding My Recovery

My Daily Bread

I cannot live on the recovery I had last year. Today I choose to feed my recovery.

Give us this day our daily bread. Matthew 6:11

I once read that the human body can survive about forty days without food before starvation sets in, and only about three days without water. That stayed with me. Food and water are not optional. They are necessities that keep my body alive. At many recovery meetings I’ve attended, we close by reciting the Lord’s Prayer. One line always stands out to me: give us today our daily bread. It is such a simple reminder. I have to eat to live. I have to drink to survive. I cannot live today on the food I ate last year. I might get by for a little while without food, but eventually if I don’t eat, I would starve to death.

What is true in the natural is also true in my spiritual life. Whether it is my relationship with God or my recovery, the principle is the same. I need spiritual food and water to survive. For me, that means doing step work with my sponsor and reading recovery literature, including the Bible. That is my food. It gives me nourishment and knowledge. Attending meetings, sharing with others, talking with my sponsor, and prayer are like water. They refresh me. They keep me encouraged. I need both to stay healthy in my recovery. I cannot live on the recovery I had last year. Even if I have twenty years of sobriety, if I am not doing the work today, my recovery will shrivel up and die. It will starve. It will become dehydrated. I open the door to relapse.

This thought may sound harsh and seem unsettling at first, but it actually gives me comfort. I am not a victim. I am not someone sitting around waiting to die. I have choices. I can read something that challenges me. I can attend a meeting. I can call my sponsor. I can pray. These are not small things. They are how I stay alive in recovery. And today I choose to take the next right action. I choose to practice this program. When I do, something shifts. I find more peace. I feel balanced. I do not swing from one extreme to another. I feel steady and grounded. Today I choose to feed my recovery.

Reflection

Am I living on yesterday’s recovery, or am I feeding it today?