Tag: writing

The Hurt That Opened My Eyes

Pain broke through my denial and I finally accepted the truth

He brought me up from a horrible pit, out of the mud and clay, and set my feet on a rock. Psalm 40:2

I will never forget the day everything fell apart. After twenty years of marriage, my wife told me she was leaving. Not thinking or talking about leaving. Leaving. She already had a place lined up, had spoken with our teenage kids, and asked me not to be there when she moved out. She had been planning this for a long time, and I had been pretending not to see it. When she said I love you, but I’m not in love with you, something inside me shattered. The shock and confusion filled my whole being. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under my life, and I remember standing there not knowing who I was anymore or where I would end up.

A few months earlier I had already told a coworker I thought we were headed toward divorce. We had a separation agreement that said we were separated but living in the same house. I wasn’t as blindsided as I told myself. I just didn’t want to face the truth because the truth hurt. I saw things that didn’t make sense, or maybe they did, but I didn’t want to look any closer. I told myself stories. I tried to keep the illusion of a family even though it was slipping through my fingers. Ignoring reality felt easier than honesty until it wasn’t, and denial only made the crash harder when it finally came.

Looking back, that day was the beginning of my recovery, even though it didn’t seem like it. It’s what I later learned was called hitting bottom. Pain finally stripped away the stories, the lies that I told myself. The shock forced me to stop pretending. Losing what I thought I couldn’t live without opened the door for God to meet me in a place I had never let Him into before. It pushed me toward honesty, a truth I had been running from. When my world fell apart, something new began. I didn’t feel strength. I didn’t feel hope. But I did feel the truth, and that was eventually enough to cause me to humble myself and look for help. I had to face my life as it actually was, not as I falsely wished it were. And as painful as that was, it created a small opening for me to surrender to God and allow Him into the anguish and heartache I had been concealing in the shadows of my heart.

The solution didn’t come overnight and it didn’t come the way I thought it would. But it did come. It came by me working the steps and opening the hidden places of my heart to God and to my sponsor. I started doing the simple things they told me to do every day. I showed up, shared honestly, and took one small action at a time. Little by little, the ground under me began to feel solid again. Pain and hurt were replaced with peace and ease. Resentments were replaced with gratitude. I don’t know exactly how it happened, or even when. I only know that it did as I followed the prescription they gave me: going to meetings and working the steps with a sponsor. Keep coming back, it works.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for being close to me when my world fell apart. Thank You for not giving up on me and leading me to recovery. Help me to always stay honest about what is real and let You into the places I try to hide. Give me the courage to keep walking this path one day at a time. Thank You for the peace You give in place of where there used to be pain. Amen.

Trust Takes Time

Surrender Is a Process

When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. Psalm 56:3

I’ve noticed I write a lot about surrender and trust. It really bothered me. I wondered if it meant I wasn’t growing in my recovery or that I should be past this by now. I thought maybe it pointed to unresolved issues I still hadn’t dealt with. But then I realized something different. These are the places where my deepest wounds sit. Growing up with fears of rejection and abandonment shaped the way I learned to survive. It left me with severe trust issues, and to feel safe, I tried to control everything. Even today, these are my biggest struggles, so it makes sense that trust and surrender keep showing up in my writing and my recovery. This is where I’m learning to rest and let go of control. But those childhood fears are still there and make surrender hard.

Today I had one of those aha moments. I realized that this is something I will probably have to work on for the rest of my life. That doesn’t mean that I’m stuck and never able to change. It simply means it’s a process. I had 42 years of unhealthy dysfunctional living, including my formative childhood years. That doesn’t just go away overnight. It’s going to take time, one of those four letter words I so dread. I have to learn how to live healthy and free. But the difference is that now I’m aware. I’m awake to what’s happening inside me. These old fears still get stirred up from time to time, but not in the same way they used to. They don’t happen as often. And they don’t knock me down for days or even hours anymore. They no longer define me. I can sense the changes happening daily.

These changes are working a transformation in me, starting with how I perceive myself. And that works its way down into my daily thinking. By committing myself to writing, step work with my sponsor, and going to meetings, I am healing inside. As a result, I feel a sense of peace and security I never received before. Now when something makes me afraid, I don’t have to spiral out of control. I pray and ask God to help, write about whatever is upsetting me, and talk it through with my sponsor. I figure out what my part is, name the emotions, and put them where they belong instead of letting them ruin my whole day. Recovery has taught me how to respond in healthy ways instead of react. That’s where the real and felt healing is. Not in never struggling again, but in knowing what to do when the feelings begin to surface again. Knowing that this is a lifelong process is actually a comfort. I accept that I am not permanently damaged. I have a way to think, feel, and get better. It is in using these tools and allowing myself the same grace I have been offered by others in recovery.

Prayer
Father, I thank You for always being there for me, even when no one else was. Help me to trust You when fear shows up and I am tempted to take control. Keep me aware and honest about what’s happening inside me. Thank You for the changes You are working in me, even when they feel slow. Help me surrender to You and trust that You will always take care of me. Amen.

Recovery Glasses

Bringing Life Into Focus

But I know this: I once was blind, and now I can see! John 9:25

I remember riding with a friend one day when he asked me to help navigate. We were trying to find a certain street, and he told me to let him know when we were getting close. So I was watching for the sign, feeling pretty confident in my role, and we were having a good time. Then out of nowhere he sounded irritated. “There’s the street right there. Why didn’t you tell me?” I told him we weren’t close enough yet for me to read the sign. I honestly had no idea how he could read it. He looked at me like I had three heads and said, “You can’t read that sign?” When I said no, he said “You need glasses!” I said “No I do not!” and then he handed me his glasses and said, “Put these on.” The moment I put them on, it was like I had been in a pitch black room and someone just flipped on the light switch. I could suddenly see every single letter clear as day. Everything seemed more vivid, vibrant and defined.

Later that day at his house, he handed me the glasses again and said, “Look at the TV through these.” I laughed and said, “What difference could that make?” Famous last words. I put them on and I was flabbergasted. The colors were bright. The picture was sharp. It was amazing. I thought I could not believe I had never watched TV like this before in my entire life. Let me tell you, I’ve watched a lot of TV too. I know how to watch me some TV, and apparently I’ve never really seen any of it.

I was thinking about that memory this morning during meditation, and it hit me that recovery is very much like that. Before recovery, I was walking around without realizing how blurry my thinking was. I thought my reactions and my fears were normal because they were all I had ever known. I thought I was seeing things just as clearly, maybe better, as everyone else. But once I started doing the steps with a sponsor, going to meetings, and doing acts of service, things slowly came into focus. My feelings made more sense. Life felt more understandable. I didn’t have to get right up on every problem to figure out what was going on. It was like putting on actual glasses for the first time. Everything came into focus and I could see things as they really were, not as how I was interpreting based on limited sight.

When I think about recovery now, I think about those glasses. I didn’t know anything needed to change until someone handed me a clearer way to see things. God used people, meetings, and simple tools to show me what I couldn’t see on my own. And when I keep my recovery glasses on, I feel alive and the world is a much more beautiful place filled with vibrant colors and experiences. It is more real and defined. My circumstances didn’t change or automatically fix themselves, but the way I see them changed. And when I see more clearly, I can live more honestly and have more serenity, the kind that comes from finally seeing things as they really are and not just how I imagine or want them to be.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for helping me see things as they really are, not just how I imagine them or want them to be. Thank You for the gift of recovery and the people who guide me along the way. Keep my vision clear today. Help me stay honest, willing, and grounded in Your truth. Amen.

The Impossible Ammends

Not every amends can be made in person.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

The other day I was thinking about my mom and how much I miss her. She passed a few years ago, but her memory still finds me at unexpected times. As I thought about her, a moment from years back came to mind, a time when I was brand new to recovery and just learning to set boundaries. I realized that in my efforts to change and work the program, I had been harsh and unkind to her. That memory brought a deep sense of regret. But since she was gone, I reasoned it was a conversation I would never get to have with her.

Then I decided to try something I had heard about in recovery and had practiced before, the “empty chair” exercise. I pictured my mom sitting across from me in an empty chair. I began to speak to her out loud and told her I was sorry for how I had treated her, for being selfish, distant, withdrawn, and dismissive. As I talked, I started to see something I had not seen before. I had been punishing her for things she never did. I realized I had been blaming her for the abuse I suffered from my stepdad, as if she could have somehow made it stop. But the truth was, she never hurt me. She tried to protect me, and when she did, she got hurt herself.

As I spoke those words aloud, I felt something lift. I had not realized it until then, but I had been carrying anger and guilt for a very long time, and it was time to let it go. I prayed and asked God to help me forgive completely and let go of what I had been holding on to for so long. What followed was peace, the kind only God can bring.

That time of prayer and honesty brought peace and healing to my heart. I know there is still more work to do, but it was a real step forward. I have come to accept that my mom, like me, was also doing the best she could. I no longer hold her responsible for what she could not control. That realization has helped me show more compassion toward others who are struggling in their own pain. God continues to teach me that forgiveness is not about changing the past. It is about allowing His grace to change me today.

Prayer:
God, thank You for helping me face the things I have held inside for so long. Continue to teach me to forgive completely and to show grace to others the way You have shown grace to me. Keep changing me through Your love, one day at a time. Amen.

Different Memories

Learning to accept someone else’s reality without losing my own.

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. Philippians 4:11

About 6 months into my recovery journey, I was feeling pretty good about myself and optimism filled my soul. I was developing a healthy self-esteem. I was sharing this with my younger brother, explaining how recovery was helping me heal, not just from hitting my bottom, but from the scars and terror of our tumultuous childhood. I was absolutely shocked by his response. I was expecting him to listen, understand, and agree. Instead, he said, “What do you mean?” I said, “You know; the beatings, the fights, emotional damage, the name calling and abuse from our stepdad.” My brother looked me square in the face and with no emotion, said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, I never experienced that.” I stood there stunned, unable to speak. I couldn’t believe what he said. I pressed a little more yet he remained resilient in his position.

The thing is, my brother had suffered far more physical and emotional abuse than I ever had. In fact, my stepdad kicked me out of the house when I was 18 because I stood up to my stepdad when he was beating my brother. I told my stepdad to leave my brother alone and go sleep it off. My brother had absolutely no memory of it at all. He was so calm and reserved about it, I wondered if somehow, I was imagining all this. Did I invent some abusive childhood home life to explain my pain or seek attention? But why would I do that? And deep inside, I knew certain facts don’t lie.

Thankfully, recovery gave me new tools to help me work through this. In speaking with my sponsor, he assured me this was common. He even reminded me of how long it took for me to see I needed help. For years, many people suggested recovery to me, and I was just as adamant that I didn’t need it. These people were from similar backgrounds, also in recovery. Even though I never told them about my childhood, I leaked so bad they saw it gushing out of me. It was the damage done to a child growing up in an alcoholic home. I think of the saying, “If you spot it, you got it.” They saw it all over me, even though I never did. And neither did my brother. Denial, what is thy name?

It was hard at first, I didn’t understand how my brother could absolutely deny all of the things I remembered vividly. But I’d experienced transformation in my life, which was the precipice for the conversation in the first place. He saw the change in my attitude and in my growing acceptance. That also meant accepting that my brother had a different reality than I did. He remembered our childhood differently. I didn’t need to argue or prove my version of events. He didn’t have to acknowledge my pain either. I loved him; he was my brother. And I decided to show him love and allow him the same freedom to live his life his way, the same way I have been allowed to live mine. That is exactly what recovery has taught me to do. That is the gift I can give to him, but really it’s also a gift for me. Acceptance is truly the answer to all of my problems today.


Prayer: God, thank You for healing my pain and replacing it with Your peace. Help me to continue to accept things and people as they are, not as I want them to be. Grant me the grace to love others as You love me, so that I can live in contentment. Amen.

Masters in Manipulation

It takes one to know one.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

I remember when I was stalled doing my fourth step. Each week when I met with my sponsor, he would ask how I was doing on my inventory. Each week I would say good. Then the day came when he said, “Ok, next week we start your fifth step.” I swallowed hard… gulp… voice quivering and quaking… “Already?” I mustered. He chuckled and said, “Yeah, it’s been long enough.” And he was right too. I was putting off doing the fifth step because I was afraid. I didn’t know what to expect and knew I would not be in control. I had never done this before. What if he laughed? What if he rejected me? What if he fired me? Would he still like me? What if he thought less of me? All of these thoughts were swirling around in my head.

I find that I often put off doing things that I don’t want to do. It’s not surprising, the things I want to do, I do or make time to do on purpose. But the things I don’t want to do seem to always get relegated off to the future. I wonder why? Sometimes it’s because I just don’t want to do it. Maybe I’m busy, or maybe I just don’t want to stop what I’m doing to do something else. Other times I don’t know why, I just don’t want to do it. But I was thinking about this today, and then I had another thought. Maybe procrastination is just another form of control. You see, if I put something off, I choose when I’m gonna do it. It doesn’t matter what it is either. It could be taking out the trash. It could be folding my clothes. It could be a project at work. It could be calling a relative or meeting up with a long-lost friend. Whatever it is, I’m realizing that when I put it off for the future, sometimes it’s because of control.

I think maybe some elements of fear also show themselves and could be another reason I put things off. I don’t care whether it’s fear or control… I don’t want either of these in my life. Maybe it’s because I have a Master’s degree in manipulation and control, that I can see it from afar off. It takes one to know one, you know what I mean. I realize that some may not see it this way or share my perspective. And this may just be the pendulum swinging back to overcompensate from my extreme dysfunction in this area. Once, I prided myself on being able to convince anyone and talk them into anything, or get them to acquiesce to my reasoning, all manipulation and control. It was in working the steps that I saw these two demons for what they really are, and I do not want anything at all to do with manipulation or control anymore, or ever again. So I run and flee from even the appearance. And boy, can I see it rear its ugly head from a mile away.

Reflection: What’s one thing I’ve been putting off that could bring me peace if I simply did it today?

Sleeping on the Couch

𝙃𝙪𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝.

Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He shall lift you up. James 4:10

The other day, I’m sorry to say, my wife and I got into an argument. It wasn’t resolved, and she asked me to sleep on the couch. “Asked” is a polite word. The next night I started setting up camp on the couch again when she looked at me and said, “Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

I told her, “I’m waiting for you to invite me back.”
In my head that sounded noble.
But she simply said, “It’s up to you if you want to sleep in your own bed. Take the initiative.”

That rattled me. I sat there going back and forth in my mind, do I ask to come back to bed, or do I stay put on the couch? I eventually realized what was really going on. It wasn’t honor or principle. It was pride. Why would I not want to sleep in my own bed next to my wife, the woman I love? Because in my twisted thinking, I determined that her “inviting me back” meant she was apologizing. Pride was calling the shots again.

That night, I’m also sorry to say, I chose the couch. I told myself I was being noble. But the next morning, as I sat drinking my coffee, I started to feel that quiet tug inside. The principles of recovery were still working, just slower than I wanted to admit. Recovery has taught me that growth doesn’t always happen in the moment, it happens when I’m willing to respond to what God shows me, even if it’s the next day.

So I humbled myself, apologized, and asked if I could come back to bed. My wife hugged me, told me she loved me, and apologized too. That night, I slept in my own bed again, and I slept in peace.

The principles of recovery help in everyday life. They’re not just words on paper. The stuff is real.

Prayer:
God, thank You for helping me see how pride can keep me stuck in places You never meant me to stay. Teach me to humble myself quickly, to take the first step toward peace, and to keep choosing love over being right. Amen.

Catching Myself

𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧.

I will advise you, lead you, and be your guide. Psalm 32:8

The other day I caught myself slipping into an old habit of manipulation. We had just finished watching the new Downton Abbey movie, and I was exhausted. I had gotten up much earlier than usual and was ready for bed before our normal bedtime. My wife and I usually go to bed at the same time, but she wasn’t ready yet. Then the thought crept in: Just sit here on the couch and pretend to fall asleep. Maybe she’ll see me and decide it’s time for bed too.

As soon as I closed my eyes, I heard that familiar inner voice, the one that sounds suspiciously like my sponsor, say, “What are you doing? This is manipulation.” I opened my eyes and mulled it over for a couple of minutes. Deep down, I knew he was right.

I had an internal dialogue with myself. What can I do? She’s not ready for bed. Then another thought came: I could use the tools of recovery I’ve learned. I could practice self-care and make my needs known. So I braved it. I got up, locked up the house, and went through my normal bedtime routine. We all have them. Then I came over to my wife and said, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” I kissed her goodnight and went to bed. She wasn’t far behind.

I didn’t beat myself up for having the thought either. I remembered something Martin Luther once said: “You cannot keep birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair.” That quote reminds me that all sorts of thoughts and temptations will come. But as long as I don’t give them life by acting on them, they have no power over me.

I’m grateful for the tools I’ve learned in recovery. They help me recognize old patterns before they can take root and remind me that permanent change happens one honest choice at a time. Each day I practice them, I see a little more of the man God always meant for me to be.

Prayer: God, thank You for helping me recognize when old behaviors try to sneak back in. Help me to keep using the tools You’ve given me to live with honesty, courage, and peace. Amen.

It’s The Little Things

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘋𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺. 𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘯 2:15

I have this habit of leaving empty containers out on the counter instead of putting them in the trash. I tell myself it is so I will remember we are out, but if I am being honest, it is my passive aggressive way of letting my wife know that we need more. She always sees it and says something like, “So… do you want me to order more of this?” And every time I respond with something like, “I just set it there to remind myself.” But inside I know exactly what I am doing. It is subtle manipulation. It is dishonest communication. It is an old behavior I know all too well.

Today I caught myself. I was making coffee and used the last of the creamer. Without thinking, I set the empty container on the counter right next to the trash can and walked away. Later I came back to rinse out my coffee cup and place it in the dishwasher, and when I turned around, that empty creamer container was still sitting there, staring me in the face. Honestly, I never thought about why I did it before, but in that moment I heard in my head, “Why are you just leaving it there?” I realized it was that old behavior manipulation rearing its ugly head again. So I picked it up, put it in the trash where it belonged, and then I asked my wife if she would add creamer to the grocery list. It may sound small, even silly, but it was a huge deal. Way bigger than it may have looked. I was being honest with myself and I was finally acting like a grown-up.

This is recovery working in my life. It is not about how I started to behave. It is about how I finished. I was the only one who knew what I had done. I did not owe an amends, and if I had not said anything, no one would have known. But I would have known. I am grateful that God, who is always faithful, opened my awareness and showed me exactly what I was doing. I was repeating the same old habit without even thinking about it. This new life I want to live, recovery, is about choosing honesty even when it seems small or silly, especially when no one is looking. It truly is the little things that make the difference. Those small choices shape who I am becoming and who I want to be. And today I chose differently. I choose to be healthy and free.

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿: God, thank You for showing me the small things that matter. Help me notice old habits before they grow into something bigger. Give me the courage to choose honesty, even when it feels insignificant or uncomfortable. Thank You for helping me grow one choice at a time. Amen.

Stopping To Smell The Roses

Slowing down and recognizing the beauty in front of me.

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 12:2

I will try to stop and take the time to smell the roses. I have always thought of that as a metaphorical idea. But my wife took it literally, and it was an object lesson for me. My wife and I were on a walk. We had decided to exercise and do a brisk 20 minute walk every evening to get our heart rate up and blood pumping. A healthy activity. As we were walking, about 10 minutes in, I noticed she was not right next to me. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see her behind me, thinking maybe I was walking a bit too fast. Instead, I saw her stopped, bent over next to a rose bush on the path. She called me over. Frustrated, I pointed to my wrist and said we need to keep walking. We are interrupting our cardio and cannot stop. She looked at me with that ever so sweet smile and said, look at the sunset, look how beautiful it is. And come smell how lovely these roses are. She was happy and content. She was experiencing peace, pausing in the moment and admiring the beauty and wonder of her day. My wife was connecting with God while I was stuck on my agenda. She had literally stopped to smell the roses. And God opened my eyes to see that the phrase that sometimes becomes a cliche was really tangible. I saw the power of what it meant right before my eyes.

A full life is not just about doing step work and dealing with the past. All the hurts, pains, resentments and damage of the past. It is also about learning how to embrace what is good and beautiful. But here is the truth, it is not easy for me to look for the amazing and the wonderful. Years of trauma taught me to stay on guard and be on the lookout for danger. It shaped how I saw the world. Always watchful for what could happen and how to avoid it. And with it also came criticism, how can people not see an obviously horrible event and avoid it? That was my twisted thinking. My insane thinking. Step two enlightens me to this in a non threatening way. I came to believe that God could restore me to sanity. The understood concept is that I am insane. Otherwise, why would I seek to be restored to sanity? I have heard it said that my best thinking got me to where I am. So I need a different way of thinking. That moment with my wife showed me what that new way of thinking might look like.

This is what restored sanity actually looks like for me. It is not about a big spiritual breakthrough or a sudden change in personality. It is small moments like this, where I pause long enough to see what is good right in front of me. I am learning to slow down, to breathe, to not rush past the beauty God puts in my path. Experiencing healing in recovery and renewing my mind means being open to new ways of thinking. I do not want to miss the wonderful things God has planned or overlook the beauty right in front of me because I am stuck on an agenda or trying to exercise control. If stopping to smell the roses is part of becoming whole, then I want to practice it. I want to look for the goodness, the peace, the moments where God is trying to get my attention. I want to let Him restore my mind, moving me forward one simple choice at a time.

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫: God, thank You for reminding me to stop and see the beauty around me. Help me pause long enough to feel Your peace. Renew my mind and teach me a new way of thinking. I want to notice You in the quiet moments of my day. Amen.

Unseen Changes

It’s The Quiet Choices That Change Me

Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much. Luke 16:10

The other day I went to the store to pick up a few things. When I was leaving, I started to take my shopping cart back to the holding area. On the way, I saw another cart sitting off to the side, left behind. I decided to grab it and take it with me. Then I thought, maybe this is one of those times when I’m doing a good deed and not being found out about or doing something I don’t want to do just for exercise, like I’ve read so many times on the Just for Today bookmark. Then another thought hit me: How would anybody know if I did a good thing if nobody saw me do it and I didn’t tell anyone? Does this even qualify as something good? It was just a shopping cart that someone left behind. Was I making more of it than it really was?

Then it dawned on me. I wasn’t doing this for anyone else to notice or to pat me on the back. That was the point. And that was the gift. I was doing it for me. I’m learning that real change isn’t just about stopping the wrong things and starting the right ones, but about understanding why I do what I do. I wasn’t returning the cart to prove anything. I was doing it because I’ve started to think differently, to notice and care about things I never used to before. Someone once said that honesty and integrity mean doing the right thing when no one is watching. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s not about being seen or praised. It’s about becoming someone who now thinks differently and acts differently. When I do the right thing quietly, that’s when it’s most real.

As I pushed the carts into the holding area, I felt a small smile cross my face. My shoulders straightened, and for a moment I stood a little taller. It wasn’t pride; it was peace. Something in me had shifted just enough to notice. I realized I wasn’t just returning shopping carts; I was living recovery, finally becoming the person I always hoped to be, one simple act at a time. Change isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it comes in the stillness, as a small and gentle reminder from my Higher Power to choose what’s right when no one’s watching. That moment reminded me that the work God is doing in me is real. I don’t need to prove it; I just need to live it.

Prayer: God, thank You for showing me that real growth happens in the little things. Help me notice the still, small moments where You are shaping me into someone new. Teach me to live honestly, not for attention or approval, but to have peace within and with You. Amen.

Why Am I the One Who…?

Small Frustrations Show Me… Me.

So if you know of an opportunity to do the right thing today, yet you refrain from doing it, you’re guilty of sin. James 4:17

The other day at work I went to get some water, and the machine was empty again because no one had changed the bottle. I had to change it, and right away I felt that familiar frustration rising up. Why am I always the one who has to change it? Why doesn’t anyone else do it? I changed the bottle, got my water, and moved on with my day. Later at home I went to throw something away and the trash was overflowing. I had the same exact feeling and the same exact thought. Why am I always the one who has to empty it? But when I stopped and looked at the facts, it wasn’t true at work and it wasn’t true at home. I’m not always the one doing it. Something else was happening in me.

As soon as I felt that surge of annoyance, something deeper came forward. I didn’t just feel frustrated. I felt unimportant. I felt not good enough. I felt like my needs didn’t matter. And when I caught myself at home with the trash, I asked myself, “I felt this earlier… when?” And then it was like watching a movie in my mind. I saw the water bottle situation at work play out again, and I realized this wasn’t about water or trash. This was about me. My timing. My expectations. My need for things to go how I want them to go. And underneath all of that was a struggle I face every day without even noticing. I feel unseen when life doesn’t go according to my plan.

Recovery is teaching me to pay attention to these patterns. My sponsor always tells me that when I notice similar feelings popping up in different situations, to look for the common denominator – or in my case, the dominionator, because I struggle with control. What I’m learning is that if I slow down and just do the next right thing, even when it interrupts my plans, life gets simpler and my day becomes more peaceful. I don’t have to get stuck in resentment or old behaviors. I can pause, breathe in, and remember that God shows me these moments so that I can grow and become what He has planned for me. And for that I am supremely grateful.

Prayer: Father, help me see the moments where I can do the next right thing. Give me a willing heart to accept things that don’t go my way and teach me to surrender the small things. Thank You for using these everyday moments to help me grow. Amen.

Warning Signs

Paying Attention To God’s Alerts

No one really knows all the mistakes he makes. So forgive my hidden faults. Psalm 19:12

The topic in my meeting last night was what do you do when you mess up. And I was thinking about that. I have a hard time because I don’t know when I mess up my denial keeps me from seeing it. That’s the whole reason I ended up coming to recovery in the first place, I didn’t think I had any problems. I didn’t think I ever messed up. So the thought of what to do when I do is hard. I have tools I practice now that help me. They are my warning signs that steer me on my recovery road. They alert me before I enter into dangerous or unsafe territories. When I see patterns, by that I mean maybe more than one person tells me the same thing. I realize I’m the common denominator, so that tells me I need to look at myself. When I feel uneasy in my spirit or in my heart, that is a sign that I need to look deeper at what’s going on. If my conscience won’t let me rest and I keep thinking about something over and over, that’s a good sign that I need to look inwardly at what’s going on.

For me, it’s never been an issue to apologize or make things right when I knew things were wrong or I messed up. I have always been quick to repent. My problem has always been recognizing that I’ve done something wrong. When I offend someone, when I hurt them, or when I am insensitive to their feelings or point of view, I usually don’t see it. So recovery helps me to recognize the signs. When I see these signs I pray asking God for help, I write about it, asking why this is bothering me. Writing usually leads me to figuring out how I really feel about things. I honestly examine my actions and ask myself, What is my part? I ask God to show me how to make a proper amends and ask Him to open the door and show me the timing to do so.

This gives me peace and confidence. When I can do this, then I can trust that I’m hearing God and following His will when I take the next right action.

Prayer: Father, thank You for being patient with me as I learn to see what I used to miss. Help me pay attention when something feels unsettled inside me. Teach me to recognize my part and trust You to guide my steps. Show me how to make amends with honesty and humility. Thank You for giving me peace as I follow Your will. Amen.

People Are More Than Their Cover

Seeing Value Beneath The Blemishes

You are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read by all men. 2 Corinthians 3:2

The other day I ordered a few books online. After managing bookstores for over twenty years, I’ve learned to take good care of my books. I never bent the covers back, folded the corners of pages, or wrote in the margins. I always treated them with respect and took good care of them. So when my order arrived, I was excited to open it. The listing said the books were in “excellent” or “very good” condition, and in my mind that meant clean pages, no writing, no dog-ears, just a well-cared-for book that might have been read once or twice. But when I opened the package, one of the books I was most excited to read had writing in the margins, lots of underlining, many dog-eared pages, and a handwritten dedication on the inside cover. My first reaction was disappointment. In my estimation, this was not in either excellent nor very good condition. I even thought about contacting the seller to let them know.

Then a thought crossed my mind: Am I happy to have the book? The answer surprised me, yes, I was. Some of the titles I ordered were out of print and hard to find, and I was grateful to have found them at all. I realized that even with its imperfections, I still had what I wanted, the words, the message, the content inside. And who knows, maybe some additional insight or wisdom could be gained from the previous owner’s experience and notes. My disappointment wasn’t really about the book. It was about my expectations. I had decided ahead of time what “excellent” meant, and when it didn’t match my definition, I felt let down. Once I realized that, something shifted inside me. Gratitude replaced frustration, and peace followed right behind it.

As I thought about holding that “imperfect” book in my hands, I realized how much its flaws and defects told a story other than the one contained in its pages. The folded corners, the writing in the margins, even the dedication inside, they were signs that someone else had found value in its pages and loved it before I did. In a way, those shortcomings gave the book more character and value to me, not less. That thought made me smile and led me to a deeper realization. If I could see the beauty in something imperfect like that book, why was it so hard to do the same with people? I started to see how often I expect others to meet my standards, to see things my way, to share my values and priorities, maybe without even realizing that I have them. And when they don’t, I feel disappointed, frustrated, or even angry. But people are not books, and you really can’t judge them by their cover. Some of the ones who look worn or imperfect hold the greatest wisdom and grace. Every day I’m learning to appreciate others for who they are, not for how closely they align with my expectations. When I can do that, relationships become more about acceptance and gratitude than judgment, and love becomes something I can give and receive freely.

Prayer: God, thank You for reminding me that people are not meant to meet my expectations. Teach me to love, accept, and appreciate others just as they are. Help me to let go of judgment and choose gratitude instead. Amen.

Stop Pretending

Sometimes the biggest step in recovery is letting people see the real me.

The Lord does not look at the things people see. People look at the outside of a person, but the Lord looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7

One of the things I love about recovery is that line in the reading that says there are no professionals here. There are no experts. To me that means no one is judging how well I do recovery. It is just a group of people trying to break free from the obsessions and dependencies that weigh us down. I do not have to impress anyone. I do not have to be good enough. I just need to show up, be present, and try the recommended solution to find freedom from the things that have held me prisoner. It comforts me to know that I am not alone on this road. Others have walked it before me, and their honesty encourages me to keep going. If I practice the solution, I can find the serenity they have found.

What I am learning is that recovery puts us all on level ground. Nobody gets to stand above anybody else. The person shaking from withdrawal and the person shaking from fear are not so different. Pain is pain, and it seems to be a great motivator for change. My obsessions will make me sick and destroy me if I ignore them. I imitate a confident have-it-together person on the outside but on the inside my thoughts and feelings are quite the opposite. And healing begins when I can merge the two into one. When I stop pretending to be someone on the outside that I am not on the inside, true transformation unfolds. When I focus on what is going on inside of me instead of trying to fix someone else, I feel the weight begin to lift, and I can breathe a lot easier.

The beauty of recovery is that God meets me right in the middle of all this honesty. He does not ask me to be stronger or have it all figured out. He just asks me to be willing. I do not have to arrive. I do not have to impress anyone. I just need to keep showing up as the person I really am, not the version I used to perform. And when I do that, I heal in ways I never expected. I start to become a better version of me. God uses the honesty of other broken people to help me grow, and He uses my honesty to help them. That still amazes me. When I stay open, willing, and connected, I experience the freedom and serenity that is promised.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for loving me, even though You see my heart, the real me. Help me to stop pretending and let go of the need to perform. Give me the courage to be honest, not just with You, but with others and especially myself. Teach me how to be the person You created me to be. Thank You for setting me free and filling me with Your peace. Amen.