Tag: surrender

Pray until I’m blue in the face…or…let go!


For most of my early recovery, I’ve “carried a torch” for some close friends and family. I think I’ve shared before in my blog how I’ve carried the burden to pray for them every morning and during every moment of silence. Four are using buddies from my past or from my relapses for whom I carry a particular burden – admittedly, probably a burden of guilt for my part in their relapse or addictive behavior. But, I figured that it was still a good thing to do.  But, I’m coming to realize it might be the right thing, but not for the right reasons.

Last night, I had this dream about one of the friends I pray for who is going through some difficult events in his life, albeit without drinking or drugging.  At the end of the dream, he committed suicide and “seeing” the act of him slitting his wrists woke me up.

I woke up very sad and very scared, in tears.

I started praying for my friend.  That’s all I know how to do.  I realized I’m so helpless.

As I laid in bed pondering the dream, I thought about the topic at tonight’s meeting: surrender. It’s not a sign of weakness like general society would lead me to believe, and like I chose to believe for most of my life. The paradox is we get power when we surrender.

I still wrestle with how I best help a friend in need – a newcomer to recovery – a member of my home group who is struggling. How do I reach out the hand of Recovery without being pushy or co-dependent, working someone else’s program? I’m afraid to get it wrong and hurt someone in the end.

I reflected more on some recent events where my attempts to reach out blew up in my face, causing someone to get angry with me and resentful. As I work through my feelings that come with this rejection, I realize I’m sad at losing a friendship and angry for being misunderstood. But I also realize that at the heart of my reaction is a fear of rejection – a concern or worry about what people think of me.  Which also means that the corollary must be true — I was on some level seeking acceptance, hoping my actions would be appreciated by others and “win me favor” with them.

That tells me my ego is still in the way, still present in my prayers or my actions.  I still think somehow that it’s me…my actions…my words that will make the difference — that I’ll save them!  It’s similar to taking pride in the results of my recovery, somehow thinking that it’s my strength or actions that are getting me through the tough times.

That’s not how this works.

It’s not me.

Sobriety is a gift.

As long as I think it’s me, my ego gets in the way — and yea, I should be afraid! Left to my own devices, I won’t know what to do – I will hurt others – I will make bad decisions for myself because of my illness and addictive mind.

And yet, the true beauty in my recovery is in surrendering.  Letting go.  I’m not responsible for the outcomes — just doing the next right thing for the right reasons.  I’m not responsible for other people’s success or failure — in recovery or anything else for that matter.

I can pray until I’m blue in the face and ask for my Higher Power to help someone find freedom.  But, really in doing so, I’m implying somehow that their Higher Power isn’t already looking out for them and that somehow, my prayers – or my actions – are going to “tip the scales” and make the difference between success and failure, life and death.

So are the prayers for them – or are they really for me?  Am I somehow motivated by guilt because of my part in their story? Or, perhaps by a desire to be in control — to “play God?”

As I prayed and meditated after the dream, I came to a new understanding.  I don’t need to pray for these 6 people by name EVERY day, at EVERY meeting – as I have done, with some (self-centered) (egotistical) pride if I’m completely honest!  In fact, that’s working against what I need – which is to surrender them, to let go — and then to know that my Higher Power is in control.  In that, I can know peace.

It doesn’t mean that prayer doesn’t work or have value.  And it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t reach out the hand of recover when asked. But, as I pray for them today, the motivation is still very self-centered.  If I can learn to let go and surrender, that is where the true power is.

At the heart of this realization is a more profound understanding of surrender and what it means. And, in that growth, I believe I’ve been given permission to turn them over to His care. So with that, I will cease praying for them ’til I’m blue in the face…and let go.

Sobriety is a gift.  It’s not the result of my actions, or my prayers — for me or for anyone else.

What I’m responsible for is doing the next right thing for the right reasons — and letting go of the outcomes. I’m responsible for working on my spiritual condition – my relationship with my Higher Power.  The rest is up to, and because of, Him.

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A Year of Recovery


I couldn’t have come close to imagining the growth, beauty, gifts, lessons and changes I would face this past year. 2010 has truly been an amazing year! And I’m told it only gets better!

Love it!

Thanks HP, family and friends!

What a difference a year makes


Last night, I sat in church listening to the pre-service music, reflecting on my journey over the past 365 days. This was my second Christmas clean and sober. Last Christmas, I was 3 days into inpatient treatment spending the holiday getting the help I so desperately needed. I can recall a couple of people asking gingerly how I felt about being in treatment for Christmas, almost afraid to ask out of well-intentioned pity or sadness. But in my heart, I knew that the alternative would have been miserable. I was vocal and grateful about what a wonderful gift to be alive, full of life. I was glad to be in the treatment center over Christmas. It was where I needed to be.  And every step of this journey has been exactly what I needed to go through – whether I felt it or not at the time.

I literally teared up with joy during most of the pre-season music and during the carols throughout the rest of the service last night. I didn’t hold it back completely because it was wonderful to feel the joy and excitement of the season – almost as if the entire experience were new to me. And in one respect, it was. I was given the gift of new life a year ago and much like I imagine it is for someone who survives a bad accident, or treatment for cancer or other life-threatening illnesses — like addiction — I truly see life from a different perspective. As the Judy Collins song says so poignantly from her own experience, “I’ve looked at life from both sides now…”

I take things a little less for granted. I don’t sweat the small stuff as much as I used to. I savor the moments a little more than in the past. And, with each day that passes, I grow in acceptance, surrender and humility through the grace of my Higher Power.

I teared with joy for Adrian, born on my re-birth day, named after his father’s close friend who died of an overdose three years ago. I felt gratitude for the two newcomers at Homegroup just before the service, thankful that they found the courage to walk in the rooms and seek freedom. And, I cried with a hopeful sadness for my friend J who text me this week, still in the grips of his addiction – hopeful that the experiences he has had with recovery wrestle to the forefront of his mind and spirit and give him the courage to find help.

What a difference a year makes.

What a change in perspective.

Merry Christmas.