Barometer of Truth

Denial as Default

Just because something doesn’t make sense to me doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Not at all! Depend on it: God keeps his word even when the whole world is lying through its teeth. Romans 3:4

For most of my life, before I joined recovery and started to actively work through the steps, I had inadvertently made myself the barometer for what was true. If something made sense to me, if it lined up with what I already knew and believed, then I would accept it. If it didn’t, I questioned it and usually found some reason to reject it. I thought I was being wise and using discernment. I was really just being arrogant and close-minded. I was relying on myself to determine truth.

Growing up in an alcoholic family, I learned that I couldn’t trust what others said. I had to determine for myself what was true. People I trusted often misspoke, made things up or simply lied, and there never seemed to be any consequences for it either. That just didn’t seem right to me. How could I ever trust someone who lied all the time? So, I learned to trust my own judgment. The problem was, I was still a child when I developed this way of determining what was true. I had limited knowledge, limited experience, and no healthy model to follow. I had to come up with my own way of figuring things out, and that became the foundation for how I judged everything. If something didn’t align with my knowledge, experience, and beliefs, I couldn’t accept it. I would reject it outright. Without realizing it, I had become the barometer for truth.

That contributed to me remaining in denial for so long. There were things about myself, the way I behaved, and what others said about me that I inherently knew were true. I wanted to change, I just didn’t know how to, so I refused to accept them as truth. If I admitted they were true then that meant I had to do something about them. But what? Instead, I told myself that was just their opinion. So denial became my default. Even though I would vehemently deny I was in denial. But the simple truth was I didn’t know how to fix it. Pretending it isn’t true and secretly hoping it would change on its own seemed like a reasonable option. That way I wouldn’t go crazy. The irony is, I had insane thinking. I just didn’t know it yet.

Working through the steps helped me with that, but honestly, “helped me” is euphemistic. Working the steps forced me to confront the truth, especially the truth about myself. With the help of my sponsor, I began to understand that I didn’t have to know how to fix something before admitting that it was true. I learned to accept reality, own my part, and trust God to show me what to do with it.

I don’t have to understand something before accepting that it could be true. I could be wrong. I could misunderstand something, which is very often the case. There are many things I don’t know, and that’s okay. My knowledge and experience are no longer the determining factor for what I am willing to accept. Before recovery, if something didn’t make sense to me, I rejected it. Today I am willing to consider that the problem wasn’t what was true. The problem was my way of thinking. I am not the barometer of truth anymore. God is. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

God, help me to keep trusting You, for You are always truthful. Teach me to accept what is true about me, even when it’s uncomfortable and I don’t like what I see. Help me to change my thinking to become more like You. Amen.

Giving Back

Giving back is not about fixing anyone. Sometimes it is just showing up

Freely you have received; freely give. Matthew 10:8

When I first came into recovery, Andy T. was the first person I connected with. He was what they called an old timer, someone who had been active in recovery for a long time. Active did not just mean sober. It meant he kept coming to meetings (plural), worked the steps with a sponsor, and sponsored others. I met Andy in a newcomers meeting, my very first meeting and for a while my only one. After the meeting, he talked with me, encouraged me to keep coming back, and gave me his phone number. I called him more times than I care to admit.

What I did not understand at first was why someone with over forty five years in recovery would still need to come to a newcomers meeting. Being new, I was a bit skeptical, so I asked him. His answer surprised me. He said he came for me. Not because he needed the meeting, but because newcomers need to see that recovery works and that people stay. He didn’t have an agenda to teach or fix the newbies, Andy just showed up and shared his experience strength and hope. I learned right away that giving back is not about having all the answers or words to say. It is about being present. It is just being there and being willing to walk with someone who is brand new and unsure

That lesson still challenges me. Newcomers need to hear recovery from old timers, people who are living it, not just talking about it. Giving back keeps recovery alive in both them and me. After practicing recovery for almost two decades now, I realize that I might be the person who needs to show up for someone newer. If I am not showing up where the need is, I am missing part of what was freely given to me. Recovery was never meant to stop with me. It is meant to be passed on, one conversation, one meeting, one act of willingness at a time.

Prayer
Lord, thank You for the people who freely gave to me when I was new and unsure. Help me stay willing to give back in the same way, by showing up, listening, and sharing honestly. Keep me mindful that what I have received is meant to be shared. Amen.

Temporary Sponsor

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. 2 Corinthians 1:4

Like most of us, when I first came into recovery, I didn’t know what I was doing. I had spent years trying to manage life on my own, and it wasn’t working. I kept hearing in the meetings, “You need a sponsor.” I didn’t know what that really meant or entailed, but the pain was a great motivator and I was ready to stop hurting.

Back then I had met two men that I connected with. One from my traditional recovery group and one from a Christ-centered recovery group I recently started attending. I asked the man from my traditional group to sponsor me, but he said no. That rejection stung, but God was already working behind the scenes. The next week, I asked the other man. He said he’d be my temporary sponsor. At first that too hurt my feelings and felt like more rejection, but I was hurting, and at that point, I didn’t care. I just knew I needed help. What I didn’t realize was that “temporary” would turn into one of the most life-changing commitments I’d ever make.

We began meeting twice a week, once at night to do step work and another morning for coffee and conversation. I didn’t realize it then, but those moments were doing more than teaching me about recovery; they were teaching me how to be honest, accountable, and real. My sponsor didn’t preach at me. He didn’t try to fix me or tell me what to do. He just listened, guided, and modeled the kind of peace I had been missing. He shared pieces of his own story that made me realize I wasn’t alone. For the first time, I felt safe enough to be honest about my past and the pain I had carried for years. Through those early meetings, God began to show me that healing happens in relationship, not isolation. I started to see that He uses people to help people, and that letting someone in didn’t make me weak. It made me human.

Through that process, I began to trust. Not just my sponsor, but God working through him. Each time I opened up, something in me began to change. I started to realize that I didn’t have to have everything figured out. I just needed to be willing. I wasn’t used to that kind of safety or love. It wasn’t about control; it was about surrender. When he challenged me to face myself in the steps, I listened. And slowly, the walls I had built around my heart started to crumble. What began as a temporary arrangement became a lasting foundation. God used one man’s willingness to listen to bring about permanent change in me.

Now I understand that the commitments I make in faith, even small ones, give God room to work in big ways. When I said yes to a “temporary” sponsor, I was really saying yes to healing. God met me in that step of obedience and turned it into transformation.

Prayer

God, thank You for using people to help me when I couldn’t help myself. Thank You for those who guide me with wisdom, grace, and honesty. Help me stay willing to listen, to trust, and to take the next right step You put in front of me. Amen.