Through the Red Door Blog

A day or so after my wife died at 1:27 AM, Tuesday the 14th, it came time for our children and me to plan her services at our church,” St Paul’s Episcopal Church on the Ohio River.”  We sought to follow what Judy would have wanted and then discussed our thoughts with clergy, the organist and soloist. All agreed with our selections for a simple service to be presented to our deeply grieving extended family.

We selected Psalm 121 to be read by my wife’s sister. Its words sang the good news that “...help cometh even from the Lord...” and we “...shall be preserved from all evil...”.

Our Bible study group had been discussing the Gospel of John the week before her death, and we had then focused on Chapter 6 and particularly verses 32-40. The simple words and phrases of these verses had deeply touched me, and I recommended these words for the service.  The kids agreed.

John 6:32-40 is the essence of Christ and His message: “... [For] anyone who comes to me, I will never drive away...” (John 6:37, New International Version).

These verses from John were read by her brother whose voice was sharp and was supported by his slow cadence.  

The words of the Psalmist and Christ were the “right lessons” for that gathering at St Paul’s. Nothing fancy, all to the point. Judy would have chosen these words.

During her final struggles and especially when it was clear she was slipping away, I prayed with her. I simply reminded her that Christ was there, waiting for her, reaching for her.

A day or two later, I thought of the similarity between the words of John’s Epistle and the essence of Alcoholics Anonymous.

The Steps of recovery are always there for us if we but “work ‘em”.  The words of the Psalmist, the Epistle and the “Big Book” each welcome us. Nothing fancy; they describe simple ways to find His love for us and our sobriety. For me, it’s the same path.  

Jim A, St X Noon

I am an organized person. My father would say: “A place for everything and everything in its place.” I like my life orderly and predictable – at least I think I do, but I know I often fail and then try to wrestle my life back into the order I want. It’s really about control. I want everything to go the way I want.

Recently, I heard someone relate a story about a friend who was very controlling, especially around events that they were responsible for at work. I too had been responsible for many years for large events and would get totally stressed out and irritable thinking, that would ensure that the event went off with no mistakes or problems. I made the experience not very enjoyable for all the people I worked with and even some guests.

The person shared with me that their friend wanted to let go of the overly controlling way they were and so they asked God to help. The prayer was simple: “Please surprise me.” What they were asking for was to let go of the outcome and trust. Trust that God would take care of the event and that it wasn’t all up to the planner. The surprise would be to leave room for a – well – a surprise!

So, I recently tried the prayer. I had a very important meeting with someone I deeply cared about and whom I had also hurt. We had hurt each other badly over many years and were meeting to see if we could…. I’m not quite sure what I wanted or what we would say to each other. I had written down what I thought was the amends I needed to make, to apologize, and ask if there was anything I needed to hear from him about my behavior. I knew what I hoped for. I wanted to listen and to share myself without expectations of how it would all turn out. I sat in my car before the meeting and meditated. Just before I got out of the car, I said out loud: “God, Please, surprise me, thank you.”

We were to meet for just an hour or so. It turned into 5 hours of real connection and deep sharing about so many things. We both took responsibility for the hurt we had contributed to the breach in our relationship. We talked and walked and even ended up having lunch together. It was a miracle, a God Shot experience. We hugged as we said goodbye knowing that we were open to a new kind of friendship.

As I got to my car, I realized that I had been given my surprise! I had forgotten all about my prayer from earlier in the day and all I knew was that a surprise miracle had happened, and I said again, “Thank you.”

When I got a new license plate after I moved, I knew what the plate would say, and I was happy to pay extra to always remember: 

Libbie S.

“The central fact of our lives today is the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our hearts and lives in a way which is indeed miraculous. He has commenced to accomplish those things for us which we could not do for ourselves.”* That quotation can also be found on January 1 in Daily Reflections.  I think it’s appropriate to begin this New Year with the acknowledgement of “the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our hearts and lives in a way which is indeed miraculous.”

What’s miraculous in not drinking? Any idiot can stop drinking.” So, I thought, when I told my boss I’d “quit drinking and go to AA.” Going to AA was easy. Quitting became difficult as the periodic craving tightened my stomach, and my mind was anywhere but on my work in the office or at home.

Looking back on it now, it is a miracle I did not drink during those first four-and-a-half years when I existed on a dry drunk. Self-satisfied, self-important, self-centered and selfish. I did all the right things for the wrong reasons, and it darn near killed me.

I look back now and think “It’s a miracle I did not kill myself driving on those narrow Irish roads in a black out. It’s a miracle I did not drive into a bayou driving in a blackout in Louisiana. Others did it. It’s a miracle I’m alive and well.

It’s a miracle indeed that I am alive and able to tell my story and know that, on my own, I could never have stopped drinking. After one drink, maybe. After two drinks, possibly. After three drinks came the blackout and God only knows what else. Most of what I did I learned about from those to whom I made Amends.

It’s not just certainty. It’s “absolute certainty.” There is no doubt, nor can there be any doubt that God. My Higher Power, stepped into my life and gave me back my life. I didn’t know I was among the walking dead. I never ceased to find it fascinating that I grew up in a denomination believing we were the one and only true church. Had it not been for AA, I would never have put my foot inside the church of another denomination. Slowly but surely, God was pushing me onto a new Spiritual Path that was wider than I could have ever imagined. Not only other denominations, but other Faith communities as well. The Spiritual program of A.A. not only helped me stop drinking, but it also assisted me – when my head was finally fog free - to open my mind and heart to God’s ways, not mine, nor male-made dogma and doctrine.

“He [God, Higher Power] has commenced to accomplish those things for us which we could not do for ourselves.” The simple steps. “Seamus, if you’re not living the program, you’re not working the steps.” What was the difference in living the program and working the steps? What do I have to do? “Just do the next right thing.”

Once I learned how to live the program on a daily basis – and that took a while – I discovered there’s a simplicity about this way of life. And yet, I could never have gotten this simplicity or recovery on my own. I wanted to complicate it with my own way of doing things and they did not work.    

It’s a miracle. The spiritual program teaches us that there are miracles on a daily basis; miracles of a newcomer coming to AA on an important holiday. Miracles of someone not killing themselves. Miracles in how we grow up and open ourselves to God’s path and not our own selfish road.

“The central fact of our lives today is the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our hearts and lives in a way which is indeed miraculous.” And now the miracle lives because “All we have is a daily reprieve based on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.”

My Higher Power directed and achieved the goal of getting me into the program, putting winners in my life, opened my mind and heart, and then it was up to me. I now had a choice. I could choose to continue my daily reprieve, or I could choose to return to the wilderness. What freedom! 

It is a miracle that I am here at my desk sharing this. It is a miracle that I am alive and well. I am a walking miracle. Miracles do happen. This new year I want to increase my conscious awareness of my Higher Power and especially in seeing and celebrating the miracles around me. We are all miracles.

*Alcoholics Anonymous.25.

Séamus D.
Séamus is a semi-retired Episcopal priest in the New Orleans area.

I have found it difficult to articulate my feelings each year as I approach my annual “sobriety birthday” in AA.

At my home group, like many groups, we have a chip system to denote our time in sobriety. White chip (one day), yellow chip (30 days), red chip (3 months), and so forth.

The colors of the chips and times they symbolize can vary from group to group, however the act of recognition is the important thing. Celebrating the shared accomplishment, in the context of our fellowship, shows how we are able to support each other. We are able stay sober one day at a time and demonstrate to the newcomer that the program works – it really does.

After a year, you receive a bronze token and get to share briefly with the group (just a minute or two) about “how you did it”.

When I was new to AA and sobriety, I would see folks getting their one-year or multi-year chips and imagine what a celebration it must be. Like a small victory parade: we clap, they smile, handshakes all around. What a momentous and fun occasion! (And without a doubt, it’s an important milestone to recognize.)

As I approached my own first anniversary several years ago, my emotions were all over the place. I was excited to surpass the one-year mark. It seemed to grant access into a certain unspoken society, moving toward “old timer” status where you measure your progress in years, not just days or months.

However, I wasn’t in the celebratory mood I had envisioned. I found myself re-living those last few dark days at my “bottom” before I had totally surrendered, and remembering how unmanageable my life had really become. It was an uncomfortable juxtaposition of tough memories and congratulatory messages. All the while remaining grateful for the journey and the many gifts of sobriety.

So, one of my sobriety tools is running. I ran some before I got sober, however in recovery running has become more spiritual and meditative, with benefits beyond the physical. An hour a day, first thing in the morning – often in the dark – provides time for prayer and contemplation. The first steps of my run each day always begin with the Serenity Prayer. 

At my most recent sobriety birthday (my 7th), I found some peace in a running parallel. I realized that each year in sobriety is not really like running a race at all (where you finish, celebrate, and have a big party).

Rather, it’s more like running a lap on a track. The closer you get to the end of the lap; there you are right back at the beginning again. And in truth, that’s the power of a journey in sobriety, rooted in spirituality and connectedness.

The laps remind me of my own weaknesses and fallibility and guide me through what I now find to be a constructive exercise of reliving those dark days. The laps build the muscle memory that through my recovery program (meetings, sponsorship, working the steps) I can stay sober through a power and a fellowship greater than myself, one day at a time. 

So, as I begin this next lap, I’ll start it the way I do each morning:

God,
Grant me the serenity,
To accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Amen.

Rich K.
Durham NC

Many years ago, Andy Williams wrote this Christmas song; “It’s the most wonderful time of the year…everyone telling you “be of good cheer” …with those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings when friends come to call…parties for hosting….And tales of the glories Of Christmases long, long ago it's the most wonderful time of the year.”

Oh, how I loved Christmas. Our Christmas parties began on the first of December and continued until mid-January. Tables were covered with all kinds of alcohol, rum cake, egg nog that could knock your socks off, fruit cake that could be set on fire or ingested through a straw. Ah, what memories! I wish I could forget most of them.

Without a doubt, Christmas is a wonderful time of the year. Before Corporations got their hands on the season of Christmas and turned it into Santamas—a profit-making season—Christmas was about the coming of Jesus into our hearts and into the world. It was a time of joy with hymns appropriate to the season. And yet, for all the Joy and jingle bells, I felt alone and lonely regardless of the party.

My first Christmas/ New Year’s Eve sober party was one I have never forgotten. Two tables at the back of the hall were filled with food and drinks—non-alcoholic drinks, the likes of which I had never tasted, nor did I know such a thing existed. There was probably more people in the hall than the fire-department would recommend, and the Joy that was there was something to experience. I remember thinking if that crowd decided to get drunk how crazy they would be because they seemed so crazy- in a good sense- that night and, I wanted what they had. I wasn’t drinking but I wasn’t sober either.

The Christmas season is without doubt a joy-filled season, the Christmas music, the movies for adults and children, all are geared to suspending the darkness of the world around us and letting us dream of a better time, a new life in the year to come.

It took me a few years to appreciate that Christmas does not have to be a lonely, depressing, alcohol-abusing time. After all, for many in the world around me, it’s just another day – people have to work. One year, I joined a few colleagues to work Christmas day so those with family could spend it with their family. That was, in retrospect, a great gift to them and to those of us who worked that day.

Sobriety opened my mind and heart again to the real meaning of Christmas which—for Christians—is the birthday of Jesus of Nazareth who became a radical Jewish Rabbi (Teacher), and, after his crucifixion and resurrection, became the long-awaited Messiah and, in time, believed to be the Son of God, the second person of the Blessed Trinity.

This man was comfortable in the homes of rich and poor alike. He had a simple and profound message—the Kingdom of God is within you. Imagine that. The Kingdom of God is within me? Hard to believe, indeed. After all I had done and said and don’t remember the majority of it—god is still with me, within me, guiding me through others to do the next right thing.

I love our A.A. meetings that are held on Christmas day, New Year’s Day, Easter, etc. when someone walks into the meeting and, usually in tears, opens him/herself for the first time in their life, feel at home within themselves, and with the group.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…everyone telling you ‘Be of good cheer.” And that statement is not followed by offering an alcoholic beverage. Rather, it is offered with a big warm hug from a stranger - soon to be friend and perhaps your temporary or full-time sponsor.

“And tales of glories of Christmases long, long ago…” “I remember my first Christmas AA meeting. My brother….” “I remember this Christmas, I was just a couple of years in the program, and this person….I never laughed so hard in my life.” “I remember the Christmas Mark has his first heart-attack. He scared the life out of us…” Stories of recovery, of joy, sadness, loneliness, togetherness, all told with all the pain and joy that is appropriate to the situation.

And so it is, “the most wonderful time of the year…” However, we celebrate this season, may our days be blessed with peace, serenity, love, compassion, and may the New Year fill us with new friends and another year of peace and sobriety.

Séamus D.

Séamus is an Episcopal priest in the Louisiana Diocese.

The flow of alcohol, the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ:

Remembering Christmas

“Cum’on”, be honest...as a practicing alcoholic, you probably saw Christmas as “God sent” in more ways than one.

The former alcoholic in me remembers those December Christmas days of office parties, Saturday and Sunday neighborhood afternoon/evening open houses, endless wine and cheese at charitable fund raisers, and gifting fine wine and liquor.

Honestly, it seemed the excess of alcohol was the norm. But January often brought shame for my December high-jinks. And often late in my drinking days, this started my paying attention to thoughts of ...  “maaaybe” ... ah’tending ... an AA meeting! ... But then again ... maybe not.  Ohhh, those recollections.

I ask myself, honestly, did my December binge morph into the devil’s debt the payment for which was called in January?

I recall that my “last binged-based Christmas” was just that. My shame and anxiousness, festered and grew and ate at me until the early days of the Easter Season when I finally surrendered and went to my first AA meeting at “East One.”

But yes! Many AA meetings after that first one, I still have no doubt I need to recall those December days. They contaminated my life and accelerated my slide down to my deepest alcoholic days. I absolutely do not wish to return to those days. I do not wish to recall the details; shadowy generalities are adequate, thank you. But I must keep just a tiny bit of those days as reminders of the alcoholic depths I had fallen into.

Christ taught us this. We are sinners and always will be. He tells us of how to live our lives by following His path. We admitted we needed His love to provide a new way of life. We work at it in our meditations with Him.

And AA calls us to reach for Bill and Dr. Bob, the Twelve Steps, and the hands of people who have learned to walk the paths of sobriety seeking that “next right thing” in their own lives. 

Referring to our “days of alcoholic rage” is not a comment about going back out but an observation that I need to recall these Christmas alcoholic days and get to a meeting to erase the memory.

I recall one personal episode. T’was Christmas Day in Denver where my son lives. Cold, windy and a stormy snow. Waiting for dinner, Christmas presents opened, noon, quiet, tired of TV and the yakking talking heads and football color talkers. I wasn’t thinking about “going back out” but there was a shadow of those Christmas mad houses. I was not interested in playing “chicken” with that shadow.

I asked my son, “Is there an AA Clubhouse in Denver, and where is it?” It was an easy distance, we headed out, the only car on the road. The Clubhouse was as usual a grand old house someone had left to serve as Denver’s central AA gathering place.

Jammed with people. All laughing and exchanging stories. A typical AA pre-meeting gathering. Then the meeting itself, the same words of every AA meeting were exchanged, words heard at any AA meeting in the world.

What would Christ have said? ... you know well what He would have said...He was there with us talking with each of us and like us, enjoying the feelings of our unity.   

What a marvelous time to feel the presence of Christ, Bill W, and Dr. Bob. a presence wherever we are.

That day, a cold snowy afternoon, that Christmas Day in Denver many years ago, that’s where I was.

Jim A St X Noon, Cincinnati.  

My very first AA meeting was in western MA. I had gone to visit my sister who was in recovery, and she took me. It was a women’s meeting. I cried the whole hour.

When I returned to Seattle, I was maybe a week sober. My life was a mess. My marriage would end after that first year sober. My young daughter would go back and forth to her parents’ houses.

But this isn’t about all that—This is about Holly.

I found a women’s meeting close to my house after visiting my sister. It was a Friday 5:30 meeting. I don’t remember what the name of it was. It was in a church room. When I walked into it there were maybe 10 women. I listened and was shocked to hear the crazy things these women had done while drinking—and they were laughing! Soon I was too. I realized I hadn’t laughed like that in at least a year.

At the end of the meeting, a woman came up to me and welcomed me. She told me it would be ok. Somehow, she shared that she had two years sober and I was in awe! I couldn’t imagine that could be me if I stuck with AA. She told me some of the women go out for dinner after the meeting and she invited me, but I said I couldn’t because my daughter would have to be with me, and I didn’t have anyone to babysit her.

“My daughter can babysit her. You could come to my place; they could meet and then we will go to the meeting together”. So, I did. My daughter loved Katharine. I got to go to a meeting and then have dinner with women in recovery! I did this for the whole of my first year of sobriety. My AA angel—Holly. She gave me the most wonderful one-year anniversary party!

We went to meetings in Seattle for more than 15 years and then Holly moved. My daughter grew up and didn’t need babysitting. Holly and I still had many adventures. We gardened together when I visited when we could and helped each other stay sober. I had a great sponsor, but Holly was my AA best friend.

Two weeks ago, her daughter contacted me that Holly had died. She had a stroke and died 4 days later. I don’t think we had spoken for maybe a year. I would see pictures on Facebook, but we hadn’t visited in a few years.

At my meeting this week here in Green Valley, AZ, we read the first half of the 12^th step. Holly carried the message to me. Over and over again she cheered me on and when she died, she still had 2 more years than me—36 years!

So, if you think that your being in recovery hasn’t really helped since you never went on a Bill Wilson type 12 step call, think again. Each meeting is a chance to welcome someone and help them

Thank you, Holly.

Last month things got dark. I thought of drinking. I didn't have a plan to drink but the thought alone was a warning sign. I remembered the tools given to me in the early days of recovery. I reached out to a friend who was with me in those early days; we went to daily meetings and sat in coffee shops helping each other stay sober one more day. I called her up. I told her I would attend a meeting and once done I would call her again (bookend, I remember them calling it).

I have nearly 14 years of sobriety, but in the last six years or so I have not been attending meetings. I moved to a small town, I was worried about my anonymity at meetings, life was busy. There were many reasons and no good excuses. Despite the long absence, as soon as the meeting started, I felt comfortable: the message had not changed. I was humbled when I realized that my turn to thoughts of drinking was based on feelings of resentment. Anger and resentment had surfaced as my life was taking a turn I had not planned. Early on in the rooms I heard that resentment is the number one reason people in recovery pick up a drink again. Now I was living proof that resentment has the power to make the drink seem possible again.

Then Psalm 124 appeared in my daily scripture readings: “Then would have the waters have engulfed us, the torrent gone over us; over our head would have swept the raging waters.” Yes, I thought, that imagery feels very real. I need to keep my Higher Power and AA close to my side so as to keep the waters of anger, resentment, and darkness from sweeping me away.

The antidote to resentment is gratitude. I was reminded of this when I returned to meetings. How much gratitude can be felt in the meetings! Gratitude for being alive, for being sober, and living a life beyond what we dreamed of when we walked through the doors. I am reminded every Sunday when I exclaim: Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise. I have been given breath for one more day. And I take that breath sober. I used to start my day every morning thanking God for my sobriety. I am going to start doing that again.

Susanne E

“Had I not been blessed with wise and loving advisers; I might have cracked up long ago…Many of my dearest A.A. friends have stood with me in exactly this same relation. Oftentimes they could help where others could not, simply because they were A.A.’s.”*

Bill was quite open with the fact that he needed help, socially, medically, mentally and spiritually. He acknowledges that “A doctor saved me once from death by alcoholism.” “a psychiatrist, later on helped me save my sanity…from a clergyman I acquired the truthful principles by which we AA’s now try to live.”

Bill has set a good example for all of us. I look back at my path to A.A. and see that I was confronted early in the disease process. I ignored it but never forgot it. At eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning, I was confronted and told “Seamus, you’re an alcoholic.” I told the individual “You should know, you’re one yourself.” He was, but he was also active in recovery.

For just over four years, I ran my own program doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons and was anything but happy. I went to therapists who were not in the program and, while they meant well, they missed—or it seemed to me later on—my conning them, my lies, justifications, excuses.

Then I went to a therapist who was “one of us.” Oops. She did not let me away with my con game and accepted no excuses. I had to be honest with myself, her, and everyone else. It’s not easy to be honest when you’ve hid behind a wall of lies and excuses. But, as scripture tells us, “The truth will set you free” (even if it is a pain in the derriere and heart).

All of that opened a door for me in meetings. I did not want to let people know that, when I was active as a priest, I was a black-out drinker and didn’t remember much of what I was told when I began to make amends. But this program demands rigorous honesty and so I began a new way of living—being honest with myself, and others.

No one said, “You shouldn’t have done that.” “You should have known better; you were a priest.” “How could you have done that with all your education.” What I got was a hug and told “keep coming back.”

There is a quality of life in A.A. that is different from any other group of people. We have to be honest if we are going to live—not just survive. As the program tells us; “We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others.

That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook on life will change. Fear of people and economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations that used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that god is doing for us what we could not for ourselves.”(1)

I did not want to be in A.A. but, I wanted what you had and only AA people could offer me what I wanted. It was by invitation. “If you want what we have then…” Yes. I wanted what you had; the freedom to be and become who we were meant to be. I wanted the peace of mind that comes from living in the Slow lane; the joy of knowing I can make mistakes and it’s not the end of the world. I wanted the spirituality that helped me find a Higher Power and let me work through my negative religious beliefs and find a God of my understanding.

Only people active in A.A. understand the danger of “a bad day.” I was received as a priest into the Episcopal church. One Sunday, as I stood at the back of the church, a man came up and said, “Father, can you help me. I feel like I’m going to drink.” To his surprise, I gave him a hug, told him I am a friend of Bill’s, that he was in the right place and directed him to a noon meeting. I could never have done that without being active in the Fellowship. Today, and every day, I am grateful for the Fellowship and the program that lets me Live.

Grapevine Aug 1961. [As Bill Sees it. 303]
1)     Alcoholics Anonymous. 96.

Séamus D
Séamus is an Episcopal priest in the Diocese of Louisiana

Quitting drinking with God's help was a transformative journey that reshaped my life. For years, alcohol had a firm grip on me. What started as casual social drinking slowly turned into a dependency that affected my health, relationships, and spiritual well-being. Despite trying to quit on my own, I always seemed to fall back into old habits. It was clear I needed something more, and that’s when I turned to God.

I began to pray earnestly, asking God for the strength to overcome my addiction. I knew that on my own, I didn’t have the willpower to break free, but I believed that with His guidance, I could find the strength I lacked. In my prayers, I asked for clarity, peace, and a new path forward. I also sought out scripture that spoke to God’s power to heal and restore, which gave me the hope I desperately needed. Verses like Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," became a cornerstone of my faith as I faced the daily struggle of resisting temptation.

As I leaned more into my relationship with God, I started to see the change. I found comfort in knowing that I wasn’t alone in my battle. God provided me with the peace and strength I needed to resist the urge to drink. I also sought support from my church community, which became an essential source of encouragement and accountability. Gradually, the cravings diminished, and I began to experience a sense of freedom I had never known before.

Through God’s help, I not only quit drinking but also gained a renewed sense of purpose and peace. My faith grew stronger, and my life took on new meaning. With God by my side, I realized that no challenge is too great to overcome.