My God Box Story.

One time, I was the invited speaker at a meeting, and when I was finished, a girl came up to me and said "You didnt share your God Box story! Thats my favorite part."
You just never know what part of your story people are going to find useful....I personally thought my God Box story was stupid and just a little embarrassing, but I will share it here just in case somebody else needs a moment of entertainment or identification.

On my 36th birthday, I bought myself a bottle of vodka.
In and of itself, pretty normal present for an alcoholic to buy herself.
It's the web of lies that I created around my birthday present that is so...insane, embarrassing....so very alcoholic.
My husband had recently quit drinking....and was desperately trying to clean up the financial wreckage we had created by drinking and cocaine-ing for the last five years or so.
I knew I couldnt just buy myself a bottle and bring it home. There was absolutely no justification in the world that would fit.
But I wanted one. God, I needed one.
So, along with the bottle, I bought one of those fancy gift boxes that you can put them in. I also bought myself a birthday card and signed it from all my friends at work. I used different colored pens, I used my left hand, I did my best to make it look as if these people really did buy me this bottle and were sending me wonderful birthday wishes.
I dont really remember hubby's reaction.
It didnt matter...I had gotten away with it.
Fast forward about 6 months.
I am now in recovery, doing a meeting a day, and struggling along.
One morning, while searching for something before going to the morning meeting, I spot that gift box.
I was filled with a sense of shame and remorse. It smacked me right in the face that I had lied and decieved to get my hands on booze.....and that was something that no social drinker ever did.
I hurried off to the meeting with the intent of throwing that stupid box away when I got home. I didnt ever want to have to look at that little bit of nasty evidence again.
God works in funny ways.
Somebody at that morning meeting shared a trick she uses to practice "Let Go and Let God". She told us of her "God Box"...a little box she uses to hold the pieces of paper she writes her worries on. Once she puts pen to paper, writes them out and deposits them...then she just has to work on letting it go. Its in the box, where God will take care of it...in His time and in His way.
I knew immediately that I couldnt go home and throw that stupid box out.
Now its my God Box....filled with worries, prayers, hopes, frustrations,and gratitudes.
I only have to look at that box to remember that I am an alcoholic. Sometimes I pull the little slips of paper out and read them, only to realize that my biggest worry of yesterday has long since been taken care of.
I am reinspired by the things I was so grateful for in early sobriety, things that I am prone to take for granted if I am not careful.
And that....is My God Box Story.

God's Will by Jane Rodway

God's Will
by Jane Rodway
Tuesday, June 13, 2006


Where
God's will
flies,
my feet follow
in God's speed,
in God's time.

When God's will
calls me on,
I dance into
His arms,
I tango with
my dreams.

If
God's will
takes,
I let loose
my tight grip,
let loose of
what I thought
I needed.

How
God's will
carries,
is in strong arms,
is in sure reason,
is in my interest,
and I have let go.

In The Moment

Some days, I can see how far Ive come.
Ive come a long way from the girl who lived in yesterdays remorse and shame and avoided people because of tomorrows fear.
And some days are harder than others.
My sponsor has cancer.
Or rather, her cancer is back.
I was a newcomer to AA when she first shared in a meeting about her diagnoses and how AA and the fellowship was amazing in helping her to get through this patch in her life.
It would be another year before she became my sponsor, my friend, my trusted soul sister, my angel with skin on her.
By then, the cancer was in remission.
And now, it has come back.
Im trying so very hard not to live in fear. But Im scared. Part of me is scared for her, I dont want her to have to go through this....again. I dont want her to have to suffer any kind of physical pain, I dont want her to have to suffer any emotional pain or fear.
And the selfish, self-centered part of me is scared for myself.
I cannot picture my life without her in it. Our phone- calls, our sharing of intimate things, our laughter, our support of each other as we try to practice these principles in all our affairs. In that place of fear, my mind tries to fast forward itself...how would I ever find another sponsor like her? Who would I call when life was driving me crazy? Who would call me on my nonsence?
~sigh~
I've learned enough to know that my job today is to be in the moment....that I need to enjoy and contribute to all the blessings God has given me. I've learned enough to know that for every second I spend on the fear, I am wasting precious moments that could be better spent attempting to be genuine and authentic with everyone around me.
For every moment I worry about what I will do when she is no longer here, I have wasted the moments I do have with her.
It is in these moments that I really struggle in praying for God's will.
It is in these moments that I really struggle with the what if's?
And then I remember that it was God's will that placed her on my path to begin with.

Lets see what comes out.

I have no idea what to write about today. My state of mind is a hurried mess, so I hope that as I sit down to type I can slow it down and stop the feelings of being overwhelmed.
Ah-ha! There it is! I had a look at what I just typed......"stop the feelings of...."
Every addict/alcoholics wish.
To stop some kind of feeling we dont like.
Its foreign for me to sit in a feeling, espcially one that doesnt feel good.
Its even more foreign for me to pay attention to it, to what it might be trying to tell me.
For the last week or so, Ive been a hurried mess....rushing from one commitment to another, trying to squeeze it all in, dealing with a sneaking suspicion that Im not doing any of it very well.
While being busy and useful, for an addict like me is generally a good thing, I have started to recognize that I dont have very much balance. I work almost full time, I am in my second year of college, I attend a weekly Big Book study, I have a commitment to sponsees every week, I have a home group, a husband, a 12 year old and three kids who are grown and living on their own. Add to all of that the regualar life stuff like laundry, groceries, house work and I simply dont have enough days/hours to accomplish it all.
I have had feelings of guilt that I am neglecting my daughter and my husband, or only offering them what is left of me at the end of a long day.
Sitting in this feeling of being a hurried mess is actually forcing me to have a look at some things I need to.
I decided to finish my Big Book study at the end of this month and then make that day a commitment to my daughter and husband.
It baffles me that I was willing to commit to meetings/work/school and somehow squeeze family in at the end.
One of the reasons I got clean and sober to begin with was because I had this horrible empty space where family should be. I edged everyone out and replaced them with booze and drugs. If I still edge them out to replace them with meetings and sponsees and school and work, well....thats not really living the principals of the program, is it?
Ahhh...oddly enough, the hurried mess feeling has taken care of itself.
Im kinda giddy thinking about baking cakes and playing games with my kid. Taking her to grandmas for a visit and sipping coffee with my mom. Holding my hubby's hand and watching a movie.
Work wont go away...I have financial commitments and I can live with that.
School...I dont want it to go away. I was a 16 year old drop out and I think its an important growth opportunity for me, as well as showing my kids that education is important, even at the age of 40.
Home group and a few weekly meetings wont go away either. They cant. Ive heard more times than I can count how relapse begins with not going to meetings any more.
Above all, I am just going to keep praying that God show me the way to have balance and structure in my life. Keep me willing to show up and do my best to be of maximum service, without leaving anyone out.

Sponsorship

I love talking about sponsorship. From time to time in a meeting, I will climb on a sort of soap-box and talk about sponsorship, the importance of it, what it looks like and how it had a strong finger on the hand that saved my life.
I have some very clear ideas on what sponsorship is, and what it is not. Most, if not all of these ideas have been passed on to me by AA members I trust and respect.
From time to time I am witness to some young sweet thing that comes to AA looking for help. Within months she has a male sponsor.
Now let me say, I do not live in a community that has one meeting a week, attended by a dozen or so people. There are 20 meetings a week where I live, and a healthy percentage of women to choose as a sponsor. There is also a healthy percentage of women who have long term sobriety, are willing to sponsor, and try to practice the principles in all their affairs. If I lived in a meeting a week community, I might not feel so strongly about same sex sponsorship.
But I live in a diverse, recovery community so why complicate our already messy lives with opposite sex sponsorship?
When I sat and went through the steps with my sponsor, some very intimate things emerged. We talked about sex conduct. I personally cannot imagine doing what I did with a male sponsor. I would have held back. I may have been mostly honest, but not rigorously honest.

Its not that I lack understanding.
I tried to get Lou to be my sponsor. He said no, and when I explained that women didnt like me and I didnt really like them either, I certainly didnt trust them, he gave me direction.
And because I trusted him, I did as was suggested.
Even though I thought I would rather die!
I was instructed to hug every single woman at every single meeting I went to for the next two weeks.
Gulp!
But I trusted him.
So I started my hug campaign. And I am not....wait, scratch that, I wasnt a hugger. Im a hugger now.
And I have a couple of handfuls of really great, intimate female friends now. And a female sponsor. And female sponsees.
That I dont have to censor myself with. That I did a complete inventory with, including sex conduct. That understood the nature of shame in regards to beings an alcoholic mother.
Was I uncomfortable doing all these things with a woman? Hell yeah!Did it go against my nature of distrust for other women? Did it ever!
But since when is recovery about staying in our comfort zone? Because my perception is way off base, what I think is a lovely comfort zone eventually begins to look like a coffin, or a jail cell or a padded room.
Thankyou, but I'll do uncomfortable.

The first time I heard God talking

I had been sober in AA for about 3 months. 3 long miserable months. I was showing up at a meeting a day, showing up 2 minutes before the meeting was due to start. At the end of every meeting I pretty much bolted. I made no eye contact and I avoided the people standing in a little circle smoking, even though I am a smoker.
I would rush down the street, head full of fear and anger and go home. I would sit on my couch for the rest of the day, or curl up in bed and try to sleep the afternoon away. I was not really surprised that this AA thing wasnt working for me....I mean, its a great place for people who are drunks but I wasnt sure I was one of those. And even if I was, I was too smart for any 12 step mumbo-jumbo.
Slowly, thoughts of suicide began to creep in, and I started to believe that while it might not be a great solution, maybe it was the only one available to me. I put a lot of thought into how to accomplish my own death and not have it look like I did it myself. Guns were out, too messy. Overdose was out, good gawd I couldnt hve anyone thinking I was an addict! Hanging, nope..no mistaken accident there. Walking in front of a bus became my constant thought companion. I watched buses and the streets they went on. I figured I would have to get myself to the expressway so I could wander in front of a fast moving one, to make sure the job got done and I wasnt left as some vegetable.
Monday morning.
I awaken with the same dull ache, the soul pain I always awake with.
Maybe today will be the day.
But, for some reason I decide to go to the morning meeting like I had been doing for the past few months.
I sit through the meeting, hearing nothing but my own head.
I scoot out of the meeting when its over, the same as I do every other day.
And on my way..where? Home? To find a bus? I hear it...well, hear is the wrong word...I feel it. "Julie, do something different."
Huh?
Different? Do what exactly?
Somehow my feet got me turned around and I walked back to the church, looked at the circle of smokers and said: "Doesnt anybody go for coffee around here?"
And that moment...everything changed.
I met a great spiritual teacher.
He took me for coffee...we drove around the outskirts of town for probably 2 hours. I dont remember a word of what he said....except that he said "You have value and you have worth." and ...well, it was the first time I heard hope.
Hope was delivered to me through a 6 foot bald man in his fifties.
God used him to deliver hope to me.
I didnt recognize for many months to come that when I felt "Julie, do something different" that was God talking to me.
I didnt recognize that God had a plan for Lou that day, and all Lou had to do was show up and try to do Gods will.
In my gratitude, to God for His grace, to Lou for showing up and being willing, and to AA for the principles that it teaches...all I do now is show up. Show up, stay out of my own way and try my best to do Gods will.
If I do that, then I get to be the carrier of hope to somebody else, and that is a feeling that no drink, no drug could ever touch.

What If?

what if
I am exactly where I'm supposed to be today.

what if I'm not supposed to be one single solitary molecule better, nor one bit faster, not one jot farther along.

what if I'm not supposed to be
any smarter, or more spiritually evolved,
better with money,
braver,
bigger or smaller.

what if
(just for today)
I let sobriety be the win,
let that be enough, and
take the day off from self judgment,
from comparing myself to others
and to the mythical stealth "ideal me" I've somehow been sold.

what if just for today I banish the "should's" and "supposed to's."

if there is a God
(and while sometimes there's doubt and some days the evidence seems to go either way what if today I sit with "there is")
then what if
my foibles and mishaps and shortcomings
are part of what I need to be what I'm supposed to be
eventually.

if this isn't bogus,
or utter bullshit,
then I can relax,
and have faith that
(as the old expression goes)
God don't make junk

and there is a Plan

and I really am
exactly where I'm supposed to be
today.

*This thought/poem/prayer was borrowed from one of my favorite blogs Mr. Sponsorpants.