rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_914c94bd-88af-5ad8-8c02-6242b1eebec3">FAITH
When I entered recovery, I needed a lot: a man, a car, a new job, money, dental work, etc., etc. The people in the rooms listened to me recount my problems and my woes. They smiled. They hugged me. They nodded. They said, “Work the steps.”
“Maybe you didn't hear me,” I tried to say. “How will working these stupid steps give me what I need?”
They smiled and said, “Work the steps.”
So, I worked the steps.
I was desperate enough and broken enough to make a decision, as Step Three instructs, to trust in a power greater than myself and to trust that if I did as I saw others in recovery do—attend meetings, perform service work, and work the steps—things would work out for me, just as they promised. And that's what started to happen. Yes, I got a new car, a new job, and the needed dental work. What I didn't realize at the time, but know now, was that they were only the material signs that told me, “Help is on the way.” The money? Well, this is about money. And trust… and faith.
Now that I've got some recovery time under my belt, now that the “gift of despair” is not so raw in me, sometimes I forget the magic found in the steps. I forget that when I began to follow the instructions outlined in the steps, even though not a single step says, “Stop engaging in your addiction,” that's exactly what happened. Not only that; for the most part, I stopped wanting to. I certainly stopped being obsessed by it. When I worked the steps I didn't quite understand but worked them anyway, I discovered that I would receive a solution, not only to the problem of my addiction, but to the other problems in my life as well.
Like most people when they come into recovery, I owed money. A lot of money. Some of it to people who can put you in jail if you don't pay the money back. I took loans, I made arrangements, I paid off most of my creditors, and then I started paying back the loans. I made the best terms I could with some of my creditors, and some of those “best terms” were not too advantageous for me. Especially when I lost a long-standing freelancing gig and my rent-paying son moved out and I had to have a writing deadline pushed back that gave me more time to finish a manuscript, but delayed the date when I'd receive the second half of a much-needed advance.
One morning during this time, I contemplated calling the office of a law firm with which I had made payment arrangements, and to which I owed a monthly payment that was due that day. The idea of having to make that payment had been gnawing at the back of my mind like a rat. Delivering a check to them would deplete my account severely. It was only three days after payday, and paying what I owed would leave me less than four hundred dollars to live on for almost two weeks. “I should probably call them and see if they'll let me pay them two weeks from now, when I get my next paycheck,” I told myself. I felt proud. Yes, I'd be honest and come clean with them. That sounded like “good program.” I'd tell them I just didn't have the cash on hand to pay them on our agreed-upon due date; surely they'd understand. The problem with that was that I did have the cash on hand. I just didn't have much more than that. I just didn't have as much as I wanted. And I knew it.
However, I realized I had to be honest—I did have enough money to pay what I owed. I just didn't have enough to do that and buy Starbucks every day for the next two weeks. And cigarettes. And cute shoes. And go to the movies. No, I knew I had to pay what I'd said I would when I would, and I had to have faith that by acting with integrity and doing what I had promised to do, everything (including me) would be okay, just like when I first got into recovery. Working the steps and living according to spiritual principles seems to solve all my other problems.
Although I had a twinge of mistrustful panic, I went ahead and paid the full monthly payment that day. It was the arrangement I had worked out with the law firm. Even though cheese is four dollars a pound these days, gas is more than two dollars a gallon again, and the power company just filed another rate increase, I know I can live on less than four hundred dollars for two weeks. After all, some working people are raising families on less. My Higher Power has never let me down when I trusted and relied on Him and did what I knew was the next right thing. I decided I would not only have faith, I would act on faith.
When I sent off the check, the rat stopped gnawing at my brain and my anxiety abated. I had paid what I owed. I had faith that my Higher Power would provide for my needs for the next two weeks. And that's exactly what happened. Not only that, but the law firm arranged for me to meet with the creditor on whose behalf they were working, and as a result of honestly explaining my own part in the problem to that injured party, I received forgiveness, not just of the bulk of my debt to them, but of so much more. I received a measure of relief. This experience taught me a valuable lesson about honesty and trust in my Higher Power.
The Torah tells the story of Abraham, the patriarch of Israel, as an example of a life lived in absolute trust of a Higher Power. One day Yahweh told Abraham to sacrifice his only son, for whose birth Abraham had waited many long, childless years, and Abraham obeyed, taking the boy high up to the mountaintop where the two usually sacrificed sheep and lambs. The boy, Isaac, had no idea what was about to happen to him, but trusted his father, and carried the wood intended for his own pyre, unaware of what the wood would be used for. He even asked, “Father, what are we going to sacrifice?” when he noted they had brought no sacrificial animal with them. Abraham had no answer for his son. The two kept climbing up to the summit, which was the place of sacrifice. Abraham had faith in Yahweh's direction; he would obey, although his heart was sick with pain and the enormity of what he was about to do.
I've always been greatly moved by the faith of Abraham, and yet I've always thought Isaac's faith was greater. After all, in the tale, Abraham actually had been instructed by Yahweh, with whom he conversed freely. He had experienced the blessings Yahweh showered on him when he trusted. But Isaac hadn't. Yet he did as his father said, even though it made no sense to him, even though his father was not an omnipotent super-being. Isaac trusted his father absolutely.
Of course, you know how the story ended. An angel was sent to stop the sacrifice, and a ram miraculously appeared to take Isaac's place. Happy ending.
I want to have the faith of Isaac and to believe that my Higher Power will never ask more of me than I can give. I want to grow in trust and trustworthiness, as well. That's how I grow my soul.
THE SOUL WORKOUT
Let someone else drive. You may very well be the better driver, and you may very well know the way, but once in a while you need to experience having faith in others.
In situations where you really want a specific outcome and are tempted to manipulate or try to control people or things to get your desired result, just be aware that you are doing this and let go of it. Trust the process.
Have faith that no matter what happens, you will be okay. You may not get exactly what you want, but perhaps, to your surprise, you may get what you need.
I've heard people say in meetings that twelve-step recovery would be so great if “they didn't mess it up with that spiritual part.” Spiritual part? I hate to break it to them, but there is no spiritual part. It's a spiritual program.
There is no way to break out the spiritual aspect of twelve-step recovery from the physical,
