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.

Fixing Me, Not Him

Seeing My Part

Peace came when I stopped trying to fix him and started letting God work on me.

O God, let the secrets of my heart be uncovered, and let my wandering thoughts be tested:
See if there is any way of sorrow in me, and be my guide in the eternal way. Psalm 139:23–24

My youngest daughter plays softball and she really enjoys it. Last year I volunteered to help coach her team. It was a great season. This year I signed her up and volunteered to help coach again. When I showed up for the assessments, I was informed that I was the manager. I told them I could not make that commitment due to my work schedule. So another volunteer and I agreed to co-manage and co-coach the team. Except his name was listed as the manager. It didn’t bother me at the time. We had worked together before.

Over the weekend there was a coach’s meeting which he attended. He didn’t inform me about it either. There have been other communications that he has received about the team that he has not shared with me. At our last practice, I suggested to him that we get together over coffee and discuss our game plan etc. He seemed uninterested and I felt dismissed. I was hurt that he didn’t accept my invitation, and there has been no direct communication from him. I was not only hurt but I started to get angry. I started questioning why I didn’t accept the manager’s position in the first place. Why did I defer?

This was still bothering the next morning. When things bother me or upset me now, I have tools to use to get me through it. So, I decided to apply my recovery principles and write about it. I asked myself, Why was I hurt? Why was I upset? As I sat with it for a bit, I realized I felt out of control. I felt powerless. I felt unwanted and not important. There it is. My character defect of feeling not good enough was staring at me and mocking me. When I saw it was my issue being triggered, I knew I had to surrender this to God and let it go. My character defects do not just go away. They are still present with me today. The difference is that I am not as bothered by them as I used to be. They don’t take up camp and stay with me as long anymore. I am able to spot them much sooner than I used to. I am no longer in denial about my defects or that I have a part to play. Things were not done to me, they were just done. I am the one who was hurt.

After I wrote about it and saw my part, I knew I had something to do. I told God about my hurts and how I felt. I asked for His guidance and wisdom in dealing with the situation. I felt the hurt leave and peace fill my mind. At the same time, my anger began to fade. I had a couple of new thoughts come into my mind and I followed them. I chose to focus on fixing me and not him. When I focus on changing me, it keeps resentment from developing later. I contacted this person, met with him, and asked him to share the information with me. I asked what he needed from me, and I shared what I needed from him as well. I resisted the urge to tell him how wrong I thought he was. I did not challenge his leadership. We shared as friends, and it was a very good meeting. I think we grew closer. I am glad that I followed the ideas that came to me in prayer. It was God leading me and guiding me. That is the gift of recovery for me today.

Prayer

Father, thank You for helping me notice when old hurts rise up. Remind me to slow down and bring them to You. Help me always see my part and surrender it to You. Thank You for the peace You give me when I follow You. 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.

Fear Disguised as Discernment

Faith Over Fear

I recently had to ask myself an uncomfortable question: Am I truly waiting on God, or am I stalling because of fear?

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. James 1:5

Lately I have been asking myself an uncomfortable question. When I say I am waiting on God, am I really just afraid of change and settling for what feels familiar? My wife and I have been talking about a major life decision. I found myself quickly dismissing it without even thinking or praying about it. I convinced myself I was waiting on God. Counting the cost. Being wise. That language sounds scriptural and spiritual, and some of it may even be. Who was I fooling? Not my wife! She is so awesome and patient with me. Once I finally started to think and pray about it seriously, a harder question rose up. Am I truly seeking God’s direction in this area, or am I being intimidated by fear and calling it discernment? I am content with where I am. Or maybe I am just comfortable. Recovery has taught me that fear seldom announces itself and says, “Hey, look at me.” Many times it speaks in very calm, reasonable tones. Sometimes it sounds like wisdom.

Waiting on God and hiding from change can look very similar from the outside. Both involve pausing. Both involve prayer. Both involve caution. The difference is in the motive. Wisdom pauses to listen. Fear pauses to avoid discomfort. Wisdom seeks clarity. Fear seeks certainty. I realized that part of me wanted guarantees. I wanted to know how it would work out. I wanted assurances before taking any step at all. But that is not how faith works. That is not how God leads me. He asks me to take a step of faith, like Peter, stepping out on the water in the middle of the storm. There is a reason He gave me the Holy Spirit. There is a reason He is called the Comforter. Why would I need comfort or a Comforter if I were never to face an uncomfortable situation? And if I were never in an uncomfortable situation, am I really walking in faith? Scripture tells me to seek God and ask Him for wisdom. God provides the outcomes. He does give assurance according to His promises. And His promises come after I step out in faith and obedience. It is up to me to seek God’s will, and ask for direction then act in obedience.

Recovery has given me the ability to examine my motives honestly. Once I see them, I don’t beat myself up for them. I acknowledge them and admit the truth of what I see. The truth is, I am afraid. I feel uncertain about the decision. At the same time, comfort is available. I also have the desire and willingness to seek God’s will. I don’t want fear making decisions for me, and I don’t want impatience making them either. I want clarity. If God says stay, I will stay. If He says move, I will move. My responsibility isn’t to avoid the question or force an answer. My responsibility is to seek Him sincerely and be willing to act when He makes the direction clear. That cannot happen if I never even ask or seek Him. When I do that, I am practicing honesty and humility instead of control. It is liberating. Being able to recognize and see my true self – that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, help me recognize when I am being intimidated by fear. Teach me how to seek Your will and trust Your promises even when the path ahead is uncertain. Give me the courage to act when You make the way clear. Help me walk by faith and not by fear. 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.

Not My Own Higher Power

Restored Through Love

For years I tried to fix what only love could heal. Step Two slowed me down and reminded me I am not my own higher power.

for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure. Philippians 2:13

I was recently speaking with my sponsor about Step 2. We are working through the steps again. He asked what my thoughts were about my higher power. Thinking I knew the answer and where we were going, I started telling him about God being my higher power and describing what I believed about Him. He stopped me and said very plainly, “We don’t get to God until Step 3. We are talking about Step 2. I asked you to tell me about your higher power.” I paused. I was already jumping ahead in my mind. We were not talking about surrendering to God’s will. We were talking about believing that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. He was slowing me down to think about what that actually means instead of assuming. He gave me an assignment to describe the qualities and characteristics of my higher power.

This was harder than I expected. I had to stop thinking about the attributes of God and instead think about what I need from a higher power to restore me to sanity. I had to change my perspective. Here is what I came up with. My higher power is loving, caring, and accepting. He understands me and listens to me. He comforts me and gives me strength when I am weak and overwhelmed. When I do not know what to do, He gives me guidance. He is bigger and more powerful than me, more knowledgeable and smarter than me. My higher power is not me. He can do for me what I cannot do for myself. He can bring healing and sanity into my life. He works in my life as I surrender and believe. My higher power loves me unconditionally.

What I concluded is that I need a higher power to help me. I cannot change on my own. For years I tried to do it myself. I made myself my own higher power. In Step 1 I learned that I was powerless over the effects of alcohol. In Step 2 I learn that I need a power greater than me to help me be free. As I listed the qualities I was looking for, I realized something. Everything I described had to do with being loved and accepted. That is where many of my character defects begin. At the core are two lies I believe about myself and have carried with me for years: I am not good enough, and I am not wanted. I have spent much of my life trying to prove myself and earn the love and acceptance I lacked growing up. In doing that, I had inadvertently made myself my own higher power. I tried to fix what only love could heal.

To be restored to sanity, I needed more than I could do on my own. I needed to know I was loved. The qualities I described about my higher power speak directly to that need. Loving. Accepting. Understanding. Guiding. Stronger than me. Not me. When I believe in a power like that, my thinking shifts. I no longer have to prove myself. I no longer have to try and be good enough. I can believe that I am accepted and wanted. I am loved. That is where my healing begins and sanity returns. That is the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer

God, thank You for accepting me as I am. Help me to be honest about my needs. I still struggle with feeling wanted and loved. I know in my head that You offer unconditional love. Please allow me to be able to see and feel it. 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?

Ask How, Not Why

Stop asking why. Start asking how. Then take the next right step.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. James 1:22

Not long ago I received some unpleasant and alarming news about my health. It was unnerving. I was scared. My mind drifted to the worst-case scenario. I convinced myself I would be disabled, that my life as I knew it was over. None of that was true, but that is where my thinking took me. I fell into a depression for several months. I kept asking why this was happening to me. I am a good person. This is not fair. I thought I was practicing acceptance, but in reality I was resisting it and slipping into fatalism, something I do not believe in. I had not accepted anything. I was feeling sorry for myself. I became reclusive. I was hard to be around. I was edgy and filled with anger. I was stuck. Prayer was hard. I did not want to talk to God. My belief system was challenged.

I was discussing my situation with my mentor, and he questioned the mindset I had slipped into. He challenged the assumption that I was disabled or that my life was over. That bothered me. I did not like being questioned. But I knew he was right. It forced me to examine myself and stop being defiant toward God. Deep down I knew He was my only help, so I began to pray again. As I talked to God about my situation, like He did not already know, I sensed Him ask, Why don’t you put into practice what you believe? I knew exactly what He meant. I had stopped practicing my spiritual disciplines. I was not using my recovery tools. I kept insisting that I needed to know why this was happening. But would knowing why actually move me forward? No. I knew I needed to move out of the why, but I did not know how. So I began asking how. How can I get unstuck? How can I change my mindset? How can I move forward from here?

What I discovered was that the how required action. I used the same recovery tools I already had and applied them to this new situation. I worked the steps around my health and diagnosis. I took small practical steps each day. As I shifted from why to how, my mindset shifted too. I accepted the situation for what it was instead of the catastrophe I had imagined. I stopped running from God and returned to my spiritual disciplines. I stopped seeing myself as a victim. The depression lifted. I began taking care of myself again. I found peace in the middle of chaos.

There are still days when I am tempted to ask why, but why has become irrelevant to me in my recovery. It keeps me where I am. Why is about the past and how is about the future. I have decided to live looking forward instead of looking back. When I ask how, I act. And action moves me out of paralysis and back into recovery.

Prayer

Lord, help me stop getting lost in the whys. Help me seek You in the how. Show me how to act, grow, and recover. Give me the courage to move forward in Your strength. Amen.

Owning My Five Percent

Sometimes the issue isn’t what I said. It’s the impression I left. Recovery is teaching me to own my influence.

Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord. Lamentations 3:40

Recently I was accused of saying something I never said. An employee told my boss that I said they would lose their job if they didn’t come in. I did not say that. I know I didn’t. I have been in management long enough to know what you can and cannot say. My standard response when someone calls off sick is simple and safe. It is the same for everyone. I do not threaten. I do not pressure. So, when my boss approached me with that accusation, my first reaction was anger. I felt misrepresented. I got defensive. I rehearsed the conversation in my head. I started building my case. Before recovery, I would have dug my heels in and proved I was right. I would have made sure everyone knew I never said those words.

My sponsor taught me to pause and do a specific inventory when something was bothering me. I stopped building my defense and started asking honest questions. “Did I really say that?” “Did I give that impression?” Maybe not just of what I literally said, but of what I communicated. That is a very different question. I am in a position of authority. I am tall. I have a strong presence. I speak directly. I carry myself with confidence. Add to that, this is someone who is already sick. Maybe they are feeling guilty. Worried about their job. Maybe already feeling insecure just making the call. Although I may not have threatened anything, could my tone, my phrasing, my energy, combined with the situation, have created pressure even if I never intended it? That question changed my perspective. I stopped being defensive and humbled myself. Instead of confronting them to prove I was innocent, I chose to look at my part and see if I had given that impression.

I am learning in recovery that my intention does not erase the effect of my actions. I am not responsible for what someone assumes or fears, but I am responsible for the impression I cause. Even if my part is five percent, I have to own that five percent fully, one hundred percent. That is what amends really looks like for me. I am not referring to taking blame for things I did not do or allowing myself to be manipulated into guilt. Instead, I am honestly examining how my position, presence, and delivery affect others. Before recovery, being right was what mattered the most. I would never even consider it possible that I could passively affect other people this way. Today, taking responsibility for my part matters more to me than protecting my image. I do not have to be right to feel safe.

It is in humbling myself and taking an inventory of my influence instead of defending my intentions that I know I am practicing my recovery. That is taking responsibility. This is how recovery is helping me build people up instead of unknowingly pressing them down. By focusing on fixing me and me only, no one else, I am seeing my relationships grow stronger, more personal, and more real. That is what it is all about anyway. Relationships. With God, with myself and with others. This is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, give me the courage to examine my actions and influence so that I can see my part clearly. Give me the humility to own my part fully. Help me let go of the need to be right. Help me practice my recovery in all of my relationships. Amen.

Powerless, Not Helpless

Acceptance and Responsible Action

Getting older can stir up resentment we don’t expect. Here’s what happened when I worked a Fourth Step on it.

My grace is enough for you. When you are weak, my power is made perfect in you. 2 Corinthians 12:9

Lately I have been more aware of my body. I do not have the same stamina I once had. I get tired easier. It takes longer to recover. I get sick sometimes when I seldom did before. As I get older, my body does not always cooperate with my mind the way it used to. That affects how much I can work, how much I can play, and even how I view myself as a man. I noticed something stirring underneath the surface. It began as uneasiness that would not go away. Then it turned into frustration and comparison. I would see other men my age still pushing hard, and I felt it. The old fear of not being good enough.

My sponsor taught me that when something is bothering me, I need to write about it. Thoughts become clear when they pass through our lips and fingertips. That is Fourth Step work. So I wrote about it. I asked myself why I was feeling not good enough and what I was afraid of. It didn’t take long for me to realize I was not just resentful of getting older as much as I was resentful of getting weaker. And I was afraid I would not be able to continue living the life that I was accustomed to. I was grieving the part of me who could push longer and produce more. When I dug deeper, I saw something I did not want to admit. I was angry at God. I was embarrassed to see that on paper. Aging is a natural process. I am not a victim. My life is not over. Yet I was blaming Him for something that simply is what it is.

As odd as it may sound, admitting that brought relief. God already knew what I was thinking. But my admittance was about being honest with myself. Aging exposes a new kind of powerlessness. I cannot control time, and I cannot stop my body from changing. When I resist that reality, resentment can build. When I accept it, that pressure releases. Acceptance does not mean fading away into weakness. It means making wise adjustments. I require more sleep now, so I go to bed earlier. I eat healthier so I have more energy. I exercise so my body can build endurance and strength. I keep my brain engaged and my mind active, looking for things that require mental effort. I stay connected in my relationships.

Working the Steps helps me move from embarrassment to acceptance, and from acceptance to action. I am powerless over aging, but I am not helpless. I still have choices that affect my stamina, my health, and my outlook. My goals have not disappeared. They have shifted. Because of my relationship with God, I can be honest with Him and with myself. I am not fading away. I am not stagnant. I am adjusting. I am progressing and growing in my recovery. It keeps me mentally and emotionally healthy. The decisions I make will help my body be as healthy as it can be. I can face this season with confidence instead of resentment. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, thank You that I can be honest with You about my fears and frustrations. Help me accept what I cannot control and take wise action where I can. Keep my heart free from resentment and steady in Your grace. Teach me to adjust wisely and trust that Your strength is enough for me. Amen.

Yes and No

Finding Balance

In recovery I learned that fear-based no and guilt-based yes are both extremes. Healthy boundaries mean saying what I truly mean.

Let your Yes be Yes, and your No, No. Matthew 5:37

Before recovery I said no to everything. No was my first response. I was a no person. I did not open myself up to invitations. I did not try new things. I stayed guarded. In recovery I began to say yes, but before that, no was how I survived. Why did I say no all the time? I took an honest inventory, and I saw it again. That old character flaw. Not being good enough. I was afraid that if I said yes or opened myself up to an invitation, I would be rejected. And why would I purposely subject myself to that? Growing up in an alcoholic home, I developed survival traits. Those traits kept me safe. But they also kept everyone out. I couldn’t trust anyone. I did not take things at face value. I did not give others the benefit of the doubt. I assumed I would be hurt or let down if I did. So I said no. And I only said yes when I was in control. That was the vicious cycle I lived in. And I never even considered there was another way.

In recovery I began to say yes. Yes to invitations. Yes to new people. Yes to new experiences. Yes to meetings. Yes to service work. Yes to life. And when I started saying yes, I experienced things I had never experienced before. I made new friends. I went new places. I was becoming a different person and I liked it. I began to identify my emotions and appreciate them. Saying yes was good for me. It helped me grow. It helped me soar even. But then I started learning about boundaries. And I realized that as much as I needed to say yes, there were times I needed to say no as well. In recovery, I am learning that I don’t have to stay in either extreme.

It was such an odd paradigm shift and paradox. Before recovery I never said yes. Always no. But in recovery I began saying yes every time, even when I meant no. I said yes when I meant no because I felt guilty and afraid. I liked my new life. I liked how I was growing. I did not want to regress back to my old life. And so I overcorrected. I went from fear-based no to guilt-based yes. I was confused and tired.

I am grateful for my friends in recovery and my sponsor who helped me stay centered and grounded. They taught me that yes and no are both healthy boundaries. Neither is good or bad in itself. Accepting invitations and new adventures is exciting and invigorating. Saying no kept me safe, but it did not lead to growth or learning anything new. Saying no out of fear left me stagnant and alone. Saying yes out of guilt left me exhausted and resentful. Working through the Steps is teaching me balance. I am learning to say yes when I mean yes and to say no when I mean no. When I do, I am able to live a well-rounded life without guilt and fear.

Prayer

Father, help me say yes when I mean yes and no when I mean no. Take away the fear and guilt of my past. Teach me how to consistently practice balance in my recovery. Thank You for helping me. Amen.