Road To Recoveries

Many are confiding in me that the overuse of the God Word is leading them to seek another meeting where the phrase “God as you understand Him” is more prevalent. Even that may turn some away. This is a very prickly topic for some of the old-timers, who may be a little set in their ways. Some have found a power that they understand, or they think they do, which works for them. Is it right just because they have been sober for a long time to preach to others how it should be done, simply because it has worked for them?

Most of the alcoholics I know, including myself, believe in something. It may be a cross carried in the pocket, a church, or just the idea that there may be something other than myself who’s in charge. Crossing the bridge from a punishing God or none at all, to a place where each of us is comfortable is a daunting task.

I grew up in a church and became an altar boy around age 8. The service was said in Latin, which I didn’t understand. I did believe there was something in this universe, but it was also very judgmental about how I lived my life. At the young, impressionable age of twelve, my father was taken away in a deadly car crash. It was then that I abandoned any kind of belief in a spiritual being. For many years, incidents occurred that were beyond my control, and I had no idea why. I failed to recognize any lesson and continued on my not-so-merry way.

Half a lifetime later, I realized that there may be some truth to this idea of a power greater than myself. I continue to see the miracles, small and large, and do not take credit for them today. I have looked at many religions and spiritual beliefs and formulated one that works for me. I cannot share my true beliefs with you or anyone else, as that would amount to telling you what you should be doing. I have made up my mind, and it is up to you to do the same, if you choose. Whether you believe or not is a personal thing. What works for me may not work for anyone else. I know in my heart that something is happening outside of me, that I am not sure of, but there is something.

When you look at the population of the World, a high percentage believes in a power greater than themselves. The Native People believe in the Great Spirit. Hindu’s believe in many Gods. Jews follow the teachings in the Old Testament. Christians believe in Jesus, and the list goes on. Most believe in something. That is where I am today. I have taken a step further and can honestly say that there is definitely something. Who or what that is is up to each of us to figure out. It all starts with journaling using the title “What do I believe?” You may surprise yourself when you open a dialogue with the Inner you. I can say this because this is how I came to believe.

There are as many paths as there are people seeking to find one. I can picture a large elm tree with many branches, each with more branches. Out at the end are the leaves, which are us. How we get to the roots and the paths we follow is entirely up to us, or is it?

Whoever said God was a he?

I don’t believe I ever heard a religious expert say how God is either male or female. Maybe along the way, it was decided that God was like us humans and could only be one or the other. Who knows for sure, maybe God is both or neither. If I am a spiritual entity, how does gender enter into the question? And the name humans have assigned to this power is God. A friend says he used the word ‘God’ because he doesn’t know anyone who is called ‘God’. There are plenty who are walking the earth with the name Jesus, but no one called God, at least that I’ve been told.

There are lots of questions and, let’s be real, no one has the answers, or at least no one alive today. With that being said, I must accept that I just don’t know. Let’s move to the next question:

Who or what do I pray to?

First, a little background on my experiences.  I was the oldest of 4 and grew up in the late 40’s and early 50’s. We were Catholics and dressed up for church every Sunday. Around age 8, I was drafted to serve the church as an altar boy. After a short training period, rattling off the responses in Latin came naturally, even if I had no idea what I was saying. I must admit I did like being an Alter Boy, especially for weddings and funerals, when someone in charge would always call us aside and give us money for our services. As far as my thoughts about God, He was ready to judge and punish me every time I sinned. I know now, the word sin in olden times was used by archers. When they missed the mark, it was called a sin.

Continuing with my story:

On the evening of November 6, 1956, my father was late coming home from work. I had a call from a friend who said his father had just arrived after being delayed by a fatal car accident where a station wagon had hit a trailer truck head-on. My father drove a station wagon. I went into our living room, which faced down the street, and I got down on my knees and prayed to God that the person killed wasn’t my dad. Well, you guessed it. Within minutes, two cars pulled into our driveway, one of which was the local police car. I knew then that all the time spent in service to God was for nothing. I remember looking up and saying, “F… you.” That changed my relationship with God and His church for many years to come.

How did my relationship with this power change for me?

After 25 years of alcoholism, getting into trouble with the law had brought me to my knees once again. This time the prayer was, “Please God, help me, I can’t stop drinking.” The miracle happened, and I haven’t had a drink since. Within a few months of attending meetings, I “Came to believe that a power greater than I am, could restore me to sanity.” The word sanity at that time meant that alcohol was no longer my friend, and I didn’t want that old life back. At a meeting one night, a member explained what “God as you understand Him” meant to him. He said, “I never had a relationship with my father, as much as I wanted one.” “It was explained to me, by a very wise elderly woman, that I could use my idea of a perfect father, who was in heaven, as my concept of God.” She said how I could call him Father. For me, the perfect father is one who is there for me, no matter what. He would guide me in difficult decisions along my journey. He would not punish me when I made a mistake, but show me where I could have made better decisions. I put this concept into practice, and before I knew it, I was a believer in many things I had given up on years before.

How does one talk to our Higher Power, as recovery programs describe it?

The key for me is TALK. I don’t have to say all of those Hail Marys or Our Fathers. It’s simple. How would an earthly father want their children to communicate with them? I’m sure not by a bunch of meaningless words. That father would like to hear gratitude, ask for advice, and do the right thing. Before I travel today, I always ask for a safe, uneventful trip. When my car starts, I give thanks. When I fill my car up with gas and pay the bill, I give thanks. I try to go through my day looking for the good in everything, and once again give thanks. Try it, you’ll like it!

Do I still believe today?

The answer to that question is a resounding yes! I still question an afterlife, heaven, evolution, and many other questions that we all have, but now there is a connection, that is somewhere in my heart area, with something that is real. The spiritual statements I read today have a new meaning. “Ask and ye shall receive,” being one of them. The asking has to come from that heart area, with sincerity and certainly in a humble manner. Maybe something like, “Father, if it is in my best interest, show me the road forward.” I know today that every experience, good or bad, has a lesson for me. Once I stop long enough to ask this power for help, the answers come. They may not be what I want, but it is always what is best.

Is this the end? It may be the end of this article, but in life, it’s only the beginning. At 81, I’m still learning every day. If I’m willing to listen for that “still small voice,” the voice of my father in heaven will speak. That voice has all the answers and is willing to guide me in doing the right thing.

I hope you have learned some new ideas from what was passed on to me. God bless, be open-minded, and expect miracles.

In today’s reading, it’s written, “I kept coming back and gradually my faith was resurrected.” That may be true for some of our brothers and sisters, but not for me. Before my first day sober, my faith was non-existent. My belief began around the age of eight, when I first became an Alter Boy in the Catholic Church. What little faith I felt went out the window when my father died in a car accident. He had been drinking all afternoon and taking pain pills for the pain he endured due to an accident at work. I remember being alone in our living room, looking out the window, when a police car came into the yard. I knew then that the accident I heard of was my father. I remember looking up and saying, “F-you” to God. That put an end to any faith and trust in God, as I didn’t understand Him.

Nothing changed on my faith front until I was forty-two years old and in deep trouble with the law as a result of being very drunk. When I realized that I could not stop drinking, my lawyer suggested I attend AA, and being sober may be my only chance of not doing time. I did exactly that, and the Judge gave me a break with a one-year suspended sentence. Since that day, I started seeing my faith grow, if not very slowly. As each miracle passed, I realized how I had no control over the outcomes, except that there must be a God, and he didn’t hate me anymore. When I finally put a pen to paper, the things that happened in those drinking days were there in an intervention which I never saw. I remember falling off a hotel roof in Japan and instead of falling four stories; I landed on a metal fire escape thirty feet down. Another near-death experience was when I lost control of my motorcycle, with a trailer truck on my tail, and I said, “Please help me.” Within a second, I was back on the seat, hands on the bars, while slowing down. There again it was God helping, but now I could see it. There were dozens of other eye-popping experiences along the way, and I just didn’t see where God was doing for me what I could not do for myself. More recently, I was in the ER on a gurney with my heart stopping for up to 15 seconds at a time. There were a team of doctors around me, and I was totally okay with what was going on. If it was my time to go, so be it. One of the doctors placed a pacemaker in my chest right away, and that solved the problem. It has taken many years of attending AA meetings before I realized how I was never alone.

My faith today is totally different from what it was 40 years ago when I first sobered up. I know, without doubt, that there is a power greater than me, and that power loves me and has been watching over me my entire life. Now, I see the miracles happening around me every day. I continue to do God’s will, which is located somewhere around my heart. Some call it intuition. I call it faith, a faith that works, when and if I work it.