Through the Red Door Blog

...that new person, or is it the old timer? Make no mistake about it. Everyone in that AA Room is important!  Each is present at an AA meeting to reap the harvest of the teachings of Alcoholics Anonymous. But the new person? He or she may be plain scared, maybe angry, but not likely to be glad to be there. His attendance may be “court or spousal-directed.” Deep inside herself, she recognizes she may be embarking on making serious changes in her life. Ask yourself how you felt at your first AA meeting? Remember, Step 12 calls us to reach out to these new folks, to carry the message to them.

What’d’ I see that first day: A “lead meeting,” at East One, basement of a branch bank, Tuesday night at 8, smoking and coffee encouraged.  Walking in I saw only strangers. I of course sat in back. People were laughing, welcoming each other. A guy leaned across chairs, asked my name, shook hands, said “I’m George, welcome.” Others followed, I guess it was apparent I was there for the first time, ...strange, no one had a last name. I met Art, Sally, and others before the meeting started. Did I feel “important?” No way. That was the last thing I wanted. Just let me sit in this corner!

We started. Seemed strange. They read some sentences from a book and Art handed me what I later learned was the Twelve Steps and some other stuff and asked me to read a paragraph.  People read from what I came to know as “the Big Book” and it was indeed “big”. A basket was passed, announcements, then the Chair said, “Anyone here for the first time, just tell us your name so we can greet you”. I froze. A guy stood up (must have been sixty or so) and said, “Charlie, I’m an alcoholic”. A couple others followed. People sorta looked at me, so I stood, “Jim,” and sat down.  No way I was going to tell them I was an alcoholic. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, and I wasn’t going to admit it to a group of people I’d never seen before. What if I ran into them at Kroger’s and a guy said, “Hi, good to see you at the AA meeting Tuesday, next week I’m givin’ the lead.”

Then the evening’s speaker, Bill, gave the lead I’ll never forget, ever. For 45 minutes he told his story. I was torn. Much of what he said was the same path I’d traveled… razz-ma-tazz at college and into my 20s, early 30s, but bumps started appearing, difficulties at home, and more, lots of laughter from others, nodding of heads of agreement, “Yeah, I did that!” We clapped for the speaker and with a prayer, and (imagine) holding hands, said something about, “...it works if you work it”, and off I went to ponder all I’d heard and seen.

To be Continued on May 8^. At Red Door.

Jim A, St X Noon & Franklin/Springboro, Wednesday Noon

I have spent the past week wading through my first case of Covid. In the space between naps, I found myself making some new connections.

When I first came into the rooms of recovery, I remember hearing people tell me, correctly, that this is a spiritual, not a religious program. For some of those folks, it also meant that any “religious” language was suspect. I was warned that if I told stories that sounded “religious” I didn’t understand spirituality, and I was unlikely to get the program. Other folks told me how lucky I was that, as an ordained person, I had already nailed the third step…as if. The truth, I suspected, lay somewhere in the middle.

In the early years of sobriety, I listened to countless stories of “God moments” from people who told me such moments were only to be found in the out-of-doors, or in downstairs church – but never, ever, in upstairs church. As a result, I spent a lot of energy avoiding religious language.

Gradually, though, I realized that this wasn’t true for me. One of my close friends occasionally reminds me that I am an “Old-School High Church Anglican cleric.” Besides “recovering addict,” this might be one of the most accurate labels for me. It didn’t make me special, or better-than. It simply made me…me.

Imagine what a blessing it was for me to discover RMEC and this blog. Finally, a place where I could express myself with images that didn’t quite fit in either upstairs church or downstairs church. Most of the writing I do here looks at scripture stories through the lens of this addict’s recovery.

Today, I want to offer two intensely personal examples of how traditional religious language and ritual have guarded me until I found the grace to surrender and have guided my recovery ever since.

The first is an ear worm. I have strong memories of wandering around Hell’s Kitchen (subtle, right?) in the middle of the night, in search of my next fix and/or companion. There were times I paused and asked myself what the hell I was doing. Given what you’ve read so far, you won’t be surprised that the answer came as a fragment of an Advent hymn: Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding. All those nights, the message from my Higher Power was, cast away the works of darkness, O ye children of the day. Even in the places of deepest despair, even when I knew I wasn’t yet ready to cast away the works of darkness, I was being reminded who I really was…a child of the day. A hymn that I had sung since boyhood kept me company.

The second is a liturgical gesture. Those who celebrate Rite I Eucharists are familiar with the phrase (this is from Prayer II, p. 342 of the BCP), “, whereby we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies.” I was taught, when I got to that phrase, to place my hands, palms up, on the altar – an embodiment of offering.

In the years before recovery, this was always a moment of cognitive dissonance. There I was, with hands upturned, while mentally crossing my fingers. When I was still using, I knew that I wasn’t offering myself, or my soul, or my body…just bits of them. I wanted to. I didn’t know how, yet. But there was that little bit of willingness acknowledged in my crossed fingers.

Today, that moment of oblation is one of joy and gratitude, and my fingers are crossed no more. Perhaps people wonder why the priest is smiling. Because God has restored me to sanity.

Does anyone else experience these kinds of God Moments, couched as they are in traditional religious language and ritual? I couldn’t possibly say. It’s clear that not everyone does. But I wonder if some of you who read these blog posts do. Maybe you, too, have been told not to talk churchy. That if you do so, you don’t really get the program. So, you keep many of your stories to yourself. Stories that could help others who find themselves in the same place.

If that sounds like you, we would all love to hear those stories. My experience is that the more stories you tell, the more you will see … in your life and in the world around you. By sharing them, you learn that you don’t have to cross your fingers again either.

Happy Easter,

Paul J. in Muncie

In my sober adult life, I have lived in 5 homes. I moved to my ‘retirement’ home just this past October. Each time I moved I found that the last owners had left lots of stuff in the garage—old paint, gardening sprays, oil, and other toxic stuff. I generally left it there and added to it and then left it for the next owners. When I added to the toxic stuff each time and told myself that the new owners might use the stuff even when I could see that some cans were corroded and were many, many years old.  I didn’t throw any of it out because I knew it wasn’t good for the environment.  But I didn’t do anything about finding a place to dispose of them properly.

When I sold my home last summer, I decided to have a garage sale to rid myself of unwanted stuff and baggage. I set out all the toxic stuff (including mine) and put a free sign on them. A few things went but I was left with a lot of unsafe and dangerous stuff. I decided I didn’t want to leave this stuff for the next family. I would leave the current paint cans that held the colors that were in my place but not the ones from many years ago along with a dozen other toxic stuff.

I looked up Hazardous Waste places and found that the city I was in had one close by. I packed it all up in boxes and off I went. What a relief! The folks there were friendly and helpful. They did not criticize or judge me for the icky stuff I had.  With each thing I gave them I felt lighter and happy to know that my bad stuff would be delt with properly and I would not contribute to harming the environment.

Then I moved and bought another home. On the day I moved I looked in the outdoor storage closet (no garage this time) only to find that the previous owners had left hazardous stuff!  I choose to believe that they thought I might want to use it but there was nothing I wanted.

This time would be different!  I packed up the stuff and put it my car to take to the hazardous waste place. I would take care of the icky stuff now! I would not leave it for the next family. And then it sat in my car.  For months. I even had to take it out to put other things in my car and then put it back in.

I was busy! I had to settle in, get to know the neighbors, find great new AA meetings, get to know the town. So, I drove around with this toxic stuff in my car for months!

Finally, this last week I dealt with it all. Where I live now meant I had to drive 25 miles to the hazardous waste place. I had to use navigation because I didn’t know how to get there on my own. I thought I might have to pay to get rid of the stuff since I live outside the city limits. But I was going to do it!

When I arrived, the person at the gate told me I didn’t have to pay and directed me to the area where I could give up the stuff. Friendly men, just like before, took each thing and then THANKED me for bringing it! I felt so light and happy as I left that I had physically let go of things that were not good for me or anyone else.  Used in the correct way they helped but later their use became toxic and had to be disposed of it with help.

It's now the 4^th month of the year so I find myself thinking about the 4^th step. “Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” and then the 5^th step- “Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.” And the 6^th- “Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.” And the 7^th- “Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.”

My experience with the hazardous waste took me through 4,5,6, and 7! It was a very visceral experience of inventory, admitting the toxicity of the stuff even stuff I inherited, I got ready to remove it, and finally I got the help to do so.

The stuff that others left became my defects because I didn’t deal with them. I let them become part of my mess. Driving around with all that stuff in my car reminded me of holding on to my defects and letting them bother me because I knew I wasn’t dealing with them. Getting help to find a place to take the stuff AND the help I got there to unload it freed me from it.

Step Eleven: How do we maintain our “conscious contact” with our Higher Power? As with all the Program, it’s a simple Program for complicated people. Paraphrasing the Big Book, we’re told that each night we are to stop and review our days’ encounters with family, friends, and enemies. Were we angry about something, did we treat someone unfairly, is there anything that occurred which will chew on us for days, or an amend you still need to make? Perhaps the main question might be to ask yourself, “Is this a difficulty I really can do anything about?”

A spiritual life isn’t an event, but rather an association with your Higher Power. There we recall that He’s at your side for in the words of that old hymn, “He walks and talks with us and tells us we are His own.” Cultivate that contact, talk to Him, listen. A thought about the day may come to mind, “out of the blue” so to speak, a thought which suggests a resolution.

Step Twelve: How do we carry the good news of the AA message? Your attitude. Remember, you are not a salesman but a drunk who, with His Higher Power and the Program, found an easier softer way. You’re not a “Big-book-Thumper!” Remember, however, the way you handled life before your surrender, got you into trouble, and you became a “drunk”. You cannot be judgmental, no “shame-on-you” stuff. You’re not their father or their priest... just a person who found a way out.

Speaking with a parent, spouse, brother/sister, employer. Listen, let them talk. What’s on his or her mind? Why were they even talking to you? Don’t forget Al-Anon for often/usually families are troubled also. Al-Anon provides a way a non-alcoholic can learn to live with the alcoholic whether practicing or in recovery. Al-Anon can be a tough gathering for often this person faces an alcoholic who just won’t quit, perhaps calling for the cutting of the relationship.

“First meeting” with practicing alcoholic. Again, let him or her talk, there will be openings for you to briefly tell your story: “It worked for me, perhaps for you too.” She may be fragile, perhaps beaten down by courts, family, bosses, friends, children. It’s a quiet invitation “Just come with us to a Noon Meeting at St X”. There folks will greet you and introduce themselves for they know how you feel and will assist you just as folks did when they were newbies. Treat it as a happy moment, the start for her of a new life. There is a laughter at AA meetings, and she may be surprised when folks cry out, “I’m just glad I found all you alcoholics!” A general thought: when approached to talk with a practicing alcoholic, talk with your sponsor or friends in the Program and solicit their ideas of how to approach the person.

Your conversation with the practicing alcoholic may call you to end your session with this question, “Well, your story is sad, familiar. I’ve been there. But I ask you, ‘What are you going to do about it’?”

Addresses to groups. I spent years speaking to all manner of groups... teens, church people, alcoholic and mentally incarcerated folks, prisoners working the system to reduce their jail time, and lawyers who had to sit and listen to hear someone tell them about alcoholism, seemingly a serious problem among lawyers. I approached it this this way: Lawyers generally aren’t stupid; they know the facts. I slanted my thoughts to their clients, families, kids, fellow partners, and for lawyers, there can be no greater devastation for a client to come to you and tell you that whenever they are seeking his or her legal counsel, one of your partners is always close to inebriation and that he wishes to work with a different attorney in your office.

I stress how the Program of Alcoholics Anonymous might be of service. After sessions, folks sometimes quietly approach and say, “Thanks.”

Yes, my friends, it is just another disease, not a stigma of some sort and the Program is Bill’s and Dr. Bob’s gift to us through their Higher Power.

Jim A St X Noon Cincinnati

April 3, 2024

“ Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” — Matthew 11:28–29

Hi. I’m Devin, and I’m missing something.

I have been fighting to find recovery and I’m not there yet.

My battle with addiction has been relentless, leaving me frustrated and lost. It all began in 2019, a year marked by a difficult divorce, the loss of my dream job, and a forced departure from the city I loved. The reasons behind my addiction matter less now than the fact that it’s something I’ll carry with me for life. At this point I don’t care whether it’s a disease, a choice, a behavior or genetic predisposition that is activated by environment. I want to find peace.

Addiction is insidious. The little maniacal voice inside my head pushes me toward using, weaving a web of lies.

“You’re alone on a Friday night. All your friends are out having fun. You could use and no one would know.”

False. They found out.

“COVID gives you the perfect excuse to be alone, to use, and to hide your come down. You can quit once the lockdown is lifted.”

False. I couldn’t.

“Tell them you don’t feel well. Your face is red because of a sunburn. You’re sweating bullets in January due to new medication.”

All lies. People eventually figured it out, and even if they didn’t, shame weighed me down.

In just four years, I’ve had hospital stays, spent thousands on my habit, ruined relationships, lost friends, and watched my goals crumble. I’ve been through rehab twice, changed cities, and missed loved ones’ life milestones. My family is at their wit’s end, and my vocation and career are in ruins. Most recently I lost my position at a job I viewed as a dream job.  It was devastating.

The list of remedies and treatments I’ve tried is long, including meditation, medication, counseling, prayer, participation in various recovery programs, exercise, yoga, diet changes, adopting pets, changing social circles, journaling, and more. Despite my efforts, I haven’t been able to stop… yet.

So, what’s missing?

I’ve been forgetting about Grace.

I am saved by grace alone.

I can’t earn my way to recovery. Recovery happens when I have the courage to stop the cycle of self-deprecation and embrace that, in the eyes of God, I am already whole and loved.

Grace means recognizing that everything we have is a gift from God, from our first breath to our intellect, our nourishment, and life itself. “Give us today our daily bread.” God gives us what we need to sustain our lives. There is nothing, NOTHING that already has not been given. This revelation didn’t come from a meeting, book, or workshop; it came from loving churches, participation in the rites and sacraments of the Church, and mostly ordinary people extending God’s grace to me.

I’ve always been a member of a church that taught me I’m a beloved child of God, no questions asked. So, who am I to judge myself otherwise? My journey to sobriety is now about working alongside God to mold and transform my life, making Christ more visible through sacrament, repentance, learning, serving, forgiving, and accepting the unearned love that is God’s grace.

At this point in my journey, I am unwilling to identify with my brokenness when something better insists that my brokenness is nothing but the cross on which I will find grace.

I’ve wanted to try this for a while now: to use the tools of my faith — scripture, tradition, and reason — to discover the wholeness that was already gifted to me. I want to explore how a deeper internalization and acceptance of the grace present in Baptism, Communion, Repentance, Anointing of the Sick, etc. is the same grace that will lead to long term sobriety. I want to use the “grace tools” to allow me to live my saved and “recovered” potential that was not earned by me or by anyone’s tough love except Christ’s.

I want to dive head first, reaffirming and feeling love that is at the forefront of everything in the cosmos. I want to accept it not because I earned it, but because it's been there for my acceptance all along. I want to accept it so I can more fully embody what God has and always will desire for me. I want to help others do similarly.

I suppose that addiction will be the heaviest cross I’ll ever carry. However, crosses aren’t tools of death; they are the means of finding life.

Hi. I’m Devin, a Beloved Child of God.

It’s March and at several meetings we read the step of the month in the 12x12. I know I am deeply connected to step one —I AM powerless over alcohol and so many other things. This is the Surrender step. Step two is my favorite step. I deeply know that a power great than me can restore me to sanity. Otherwise, step one would not be possible for me. Step two is the Hope step. Step three, though, has been a tough one—decided to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as we understood that. This is the Faith step.

As a child in an abusive family, attending a very rigid church, there was no way I was turning myself over to the god I grew up with. That god could hurt me no matter what I did. I could not be good enough in my family. We were asked EVERY night at dinner: What did you do today to justify your existence? You can’t answer that question with just a simple answer. It had to be approved by my father as to whether it counted.

But then I saw that the step asked me to turn my will and my life over to THE CARE of God. Well, that’s a different thing. I understood the idea of trusting others when they would say “Oh, I’ll take care of that” or when I offered to take care of something for someone. It meant that I would receive help and that I didn’t have to worry about it. Most often it worked. So maybe with God it could work even better. This might just be a God who looks out for me and helps. I needed only to plan (often many times a day) to let God take care of my life.

So, this weekend my partner and I went to Willcox, AZ, to see the over 30,000 sand cranes that winter there before they fly back to the Midwest and finally to Minnesota for the summer. We knew it might be a bit late and that many had probably left already but we were up for the adventure.

The first place we were directed to was wrong and took us miles out of our way. I was so bummed. We went back to our motel and after deciding we had been given the wrong directions, we would try again in the morning. The cranes are usually hanging in groups in the morning and then later in the afternoon. Not being early risers, we knew we were taking a chance. But out we went to find them. This time we went the right way and soon were looking at huge marshy pools with many different waterfowl and maybe 5 cranes. My heart sunk. We had driven over a hundred miles and spent a night in a motel to see 5 cranes??

In that moment I was so disappointed. I had wanted to do this trip and see the cranes for several years. I blamed myself for not having come sooner and many other things. It was all my fault! As we drove away from the ponds my partner said he want to stop at a golf course we had passed to use the bathroom. I sat in the car and moped. Then I thanked God for all we had seen in this part of Arizona and tried to let go and relax. Next year we would try again. It was all ok.

When Steve came back to the car, he told me that the woman in the clubhouse had said that that the cranes often were on the course and hung out in ponds next to the course so we went to find that area thinking we could remember it for next year. It was an overcast and cool day, but we could see perhaps 100 cranes in the distance hanging out. I said thank you to my higher power and THEN—looking to the north we saw a huge flock winging its way towards us and then circling and landing with the others, and then another arrived and another and another! They flew over our heads and as best as we could count, well over 1000 cranes flew over and by us for perhaps 30 minutes!

It was so amazing to see them, hear them and watch how they formed themselves in flight. Just when we thought we would see no more another string of cranes would emerge from the clouds and over our heads.

I realized I’d had put the cranes and my seeing them in God’s hands and was gifted the amazing experience of seeing thousands of them. Perhaps the cranes will remind me to make that decision to put my will and my life in THE CARE of the God of my understanding.

In THE BEST OF BILL we read, page 65, “We will cooperate with practically everybody; yet we decline to marry our Society to anyone. We abstain from public controversy and will not quarrel among ourselves about those things that rip society asunder – religion – politics, and reform. We have but one purpose; to carry the AA Message to the sick alcoholic who wants it.” This was written in January of 1955 some twenty years after the founding of the Fellowship. By then they had sufficient experience with the importance of Anonymity. He opened his talk by stating, “As never before the struggle for power, importance, and wealth is tearing civilization apart. Man against man, family against family, group against group, nation against nation.” Today he might add, church against church.

I remember my early days when the tension in our local groups was palpable due to the newcomers from treatment centers, younger people coming into AA and taking about their addiction to drugs, and mental health issues being raised. A letter was read at the beginning of each meeting telling participants to keep the discussion to alcohol resulting in some folks walking out.

Looking back on those times, I don’t think we quarreled. We avoided the topic of addiction vs. alcoholism. Some of us talked about it in the meeting after the meeting at a local restaurant and discussed how we could bridge the divide. Now, some forty-five years later, we continue to state at the beginning that we confine our discussion to alcoholism. However, it is accepted that almost all of us who have been in the program for a long time are dual addicted if not multiple addicted.

Politically, socially, and religiously our world is, once again, being pulled apart. And yet, in the meeting rooms of the Fellowship one would not realize this fact. We have our differences, we are aware of them, but it is our well-being that keeps us together. We are together because we know the dangers of losing our spiritual strengths. We have but one purpose and that is to help the alcoholic who is still suffering. Some of us, due to age related health issues, are suffering and we need the Fellowship to remind us of the strength we have through living the twelve steps.

Bill goes on to say that “To gain enough humility and self-respect to stay alive at all we have to give up what had really been our dearest possession – our ambitions and our illegitimate pride.” Bill does not speak softly. He can’t afford to. People like me deny any ambitions or Pride. I was taught to be humble and to think of myself as being humble. I became proud of my humility and then just outright prideful. I had every right to be proud. I was good at what I did. But Bill was talking about illegitimate pride; the kind that kills people like me and destroys the possibility of healthy relationships.

There are, today, people I want to take aside and educate them as to why they should not vote one way or another. I want to point out the failures of this or that person and why the person I support is the best of a bad lot. It’s my responsibility to make sure that all voters are educated before they vote. But that has no place inside the halls of the Fellowship. That has no place in a sponsor- sponsee relationship. It has no place in conversation unless those involved are sufficiently respectful of one another that they can agree to disagree. “…AA would always depend on our continued willingness to sacrifice our personal ambitions and desires for the common safety and welfare.”

After a few years in the Fellowship, I no longer consider it a sacrifice to put aside that which I think I need. Rather it is more a responsibility to be present to the individual, the group, and AA as a whole. It is a responsibility to be present for others and I can’t do that when I want what I want.

This brings me full circle; I am powerless over people, places, and things and when I think I’m in control my life has become unmanageable, I need help, God help me. My role in AA and, frankly, in other places, is to share my experience, strength and hope and give others the space and the respect to share theirs. Stories bring us together. Opinions divide and destroy. So, I keep it simple, “Do justice, Love mercy, and walk humbly with your God [as you understand God].

At this point, we are carrying a lot of guilt, a gunnysack filled with the consequences of our drinking. Hurts to our family and our friends, troubles at work. It haunts us and it gets in the way of working other Steps and learning how to live as a sober person free of Mr. Ego. How do we empty this gunnysack? We make a list, but we don’t dwell on its details, but I suppose some do and that’s fine with them. But I suggest a more modest course and take your family for example. No need to detail the hurt you have inflicted on them for believe me, they’ll remember. Repeating a list of your drunken events may aggravate the situation. You probably meant every apology but the next day you welched on the deal and continued your merry alcoholic drinking ways. Your past words of apology meant little or nothing, so this time when you do apologize, tell them you have found a deep new approach if indeed you do mean it: “This time I don’t stand alone.” At the time of a true surrender, you are then backed by your Higher Power and your sponsor and your AA group, they’re all at your side and with their support and your work of these Steps of the Program, you will succeed. Think of your alcoholic behavior, understand your sins as an alcoholic and ask your Higher Power for His forgiveness. A part of this “forgiveness” is to be able to forgive yourself, to move on, not to dwell on the past or jump into that pity-pot. He loves you, always, and will support you if you but reach for Him, so will your Sponsor and AA Group. At first, your family may not understand that, but be patient with them. They, just like you, may start believing that. Remember, your family may also be sick, for your disease may also have twisted their lives in response to your behavior. The Big Book makes a unique point when referring to our drunken sexual sins. Sometimes the pain of resurrecting some of the hurts on that list isn’t appropriate for it’s just too awful. As I said before, we all seek forgiveness from those we’d harmed but we “cannot bring about still more harm in doing so” (Big Book, p 69) just to quell our own ego clothed as your guilt.

And this is important: Talk to your Sponsor about this list-making stuff. Don’t make a list and run around seeking forgiveness. Take it easy. Is an apology really going to help? Maybe ...stop and give it a second thought. “Prove it!” by working the Program now, not tomorrow, and hard day-in, day-out. The truth of your beliefs will be demonstrated with time by showing your changed patterns of life. Gain some self-respect. But by all means remember it’s not, “ready, shoot, aim.”

The joys of Step Ten! Some think the Program is but a way to stop drinking. How wrong can they be! It is that and more for it is intended to be a way of living your life—to be free of the ego that tells you that you are still in charge of your life. You need to seek the aid of your Higher Power in doing so. We’re told in this Step to continue to review how we handle life’s bumps. Do we fight them or accept them and seek His will for the next right steps? We can’t eliminate or stop the bumps, but we can learn to meet them, find what they are, seek help, and follow His direction. He’s there, always, watching you, He’s never asleep and never will rebuke you. But He will suggest ways to deal with those bumps on “His schedule” not yours. Reach for assistance from your Sponsor, your AA home group, and your Higher Power to isolate you from the devil incarnate Mr. Ego.  And this is important: as we put our time into the Program, we may become loose in the way we work it. That’s why we must continue going to meetings and working the Steps. For me, as one confined to assisted living, I like to think of this as having an “AA Contact” of some kind every day, and often every night—a quiet reading, a telephone call, a real USPO letter, writing a meditation, anything—just make every day an “AA Contact Day,” for remember, it only works if you continue to work it.”

Jim A, St X Noon, Cincinnati

March 6, 2024

“Miracles were all good way back when,” said the man just holding on, “but I think God is no longer in the miracle business.” I understood but disagreed.

I was there when he first entered the rooms of AA. I remembered his glossy eyes, puffy face, and shaking hands. I could still hear his tales of excessive drinking, shattered relationships, and frequent thoughts about calling it quits. With each fingernail-grabbing step, I marveled at how, with God’s help, this man was climbing out of the pit of despair and becoming the new creation St. Paul described long ago. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see it.

It reminded me how often I’ve been blind to God’s miraculous work. So often, the fog of my daily life settles in and prevents me from seeing the grace-filled landscape surrounding me. It causes me to question my path and whether God is with me at all. When the pressure at work squeezes tight, a child brings up a past mistake, or I begin singing my often-used shame-based refrains, the fog settles in. Like my friend, I’m no longer able to see the miracles surrounding me.

The blind see, the lame walk, if we have eyes to see. Our desire to walk on water prevents us from seeing that we’re walking on vodka. A modern-day miracle. Thanks be to God.

I have always been a person who marked life events with something tangible. It could be as simple as a new dress, a book to remind me, a souvenir of somewhere I visited. When I looked at the items I have collected, I would be taken back to the event or place and remember.

Sobriety is marked often with coins, and I have many. For me though I have marked the change and growth I have found in being sober with jewelry. My great grandfather was a jeweler and I worked in jewelry stores in college. I thought about becoming a jeweler myself once.

I wanted to mark my journey in sobriety and spiritual growth. When I had one month without drinking, I bought a hollow gold bead and put it on a chain. It was a way to mark the month and I wanted another bead, so it helped me stay sober that month and the month after and the one after! I bought another one each month until I was sober for two years—24 gold beads. I loved my necklace and wore it often.

After the two years, I changed what I did to mark my days and months of sobriety. I marked the years instead of the months, often with some simple jewelry. Some years it was something like a ring that had inlays of turquoise that matched the number of years I had and one year it was a ring with February’s birthstone—amethyst, for the month I got sober.

Years after it had been two years of sobriety, I was sitting in a meeting one day. I was excited to share that I was having a yearly anniversary. While I was waiting to speak, I noticed that I was wearing the necklace with 24 gold beads. Tears came to my eyes. It was my time to speak. “I am celebrating 24 YEARS of sobriety today”. I told them about my first 24 months and how I had bought the beads each month, never imagining that one day at a time, one bead at a time I would have 24 years! Time takes time I had learned, and it passes in the present moments of life. Change takes time and I found I had arrived in that place by learning, and sharing, and making and keeping the changes that would support my sober spiritual journey.

I started to buy beads again and have bought a bead for every year that I have continued to not drink one day at a time. Now my necklace has 34 beads on it. The gift of sobriety is all the moments I have connected to spirit and been able to share my sobriety with others. Thank you.

This is an excerpt from my book God Shots, Libbie S.