“The path of descent is the path of transformation. Darkness, failure, relapse, death, and woundedness are our primary teachers, rather than ideas or doctrines.” — Richard Rohr

My mother passed away on January 20th.

The last three weeks of her life were painful to watch. They had to be even more painful for her as she struggled to breathe, each attempt more difficult than the last. Recovery helped me be physically and emotionally present for her. Letting go of my resentments and expectations around her allowed me to love her where and how she was at that moment.

At one point, mom arched her eyebrows, and her eyes lit up. She saw something beyond. Someone or something I could not. A few breaths later, she was gone. The Hospice Chaplin told me that a look of expectation and recognition often appears on a dying person's face. It is proof that what awaits us on the other side is worth the pain of the human experience.

As a recovering addict and card-carrying member of Al-Anon, this experience has exposed me to what happens when hope is fulfilled. Growing up in church and a lifetime of ministry taught me the seminary definition of hope. Knowing what hope is from an intellectual standpoint differs from experiencing it as a spiritual being. It is one of the things I missed in Bible College. I didn't understand my need for hope until I hit the bottom of my addiction.

Step Two embodies hope amid hope-lessness. In both S.L.A.A. and Al-Anon, I now realize that it is in Step Two where hope is no longer ethereal but becomes incarnate. The same hope available to me in recovery is the hope that was real to my mother as she saw her dad, her mom, Jesus, or just eternal peace as she crossed over. I saw an ending while she saw the realization of purpose and wholeness. A beginning.

My sponsor says that there must be a death before there can be a rebirth. That sounds a lot like the apostle Paul.

All around us, we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Romans 8:24-25 (The Message)

I wish I had space to write at length about these few paragraphs. Let me sum it up as best I can. I joyfully stay connected to my recovery and others on this journey because of hope. There are days and moments when recovery is a struggle, and every second of sobriety is hard-won. But those moments are just birth pangs. The longer I have them, the more distance I put between me and my bottom. Doing so only pours more joy into my expectation.

Someday, my hope will be made real. My eyes will arch in recognition that the past years of embracing recovery, struggling with it, and the myriad of phases in between were not in vain. It is hope which keeps me in the fight. That hope will reunite me with my mother and result in me laying down my struggle once and for all.

I do not know what heaven is like, but I hope I just got a glimpse.

By Shane M.