Step 3 - Communing with God

I was struck with one particular word in my title. No, it wasn’t “God” or even “Communing.” It was “with.” Okay, maybe I’m with only person on earth that can get hung up on a preposition, but hear me out.

Society has screwed us up. Yep. For once I am going to blame society. Usually I blame myself, so don’t anyone freak out when I shift the blame here.

But let’s be honest, of those of you who believe in God, how many were taught memorized prayers? Go ahead, raise your hands, nobody is looking. Okay. Now of the remainder, how many of you forward emails with set prayers in them because you would feel guilty if you didn’t? Okay. Now of the remaining “believers” how many of you say your prayers and then get up, thinking that the communication is over, because after all, it is one-sided?

Do you get my drift?

Most of us, who do believe in God, still think of prayer (communication) as a one-way street with our words going up into a giant receiver. But how many actually take the time to sit and listen and expect some form of communication back?

I heard a talk in church once that should have touched me then, but it affects me more now. The speaker compared prayer to a phone conversation and asked how we would feel if we had a child who called each day with the following type of conversation:

Hi, Dad. Hey I’m having some problems today and could really use a little extra money so if you could send $500 I’d really appreciate it. I’m going to the doctor next week. He thinks I may need to have my gall bladder removed. It really sucks. It would be great if you could convince him that it wasn’t necessary. The kids are doing good. No problems there. But we are a little worried that Jimmy isn’t talking yet. Well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, bye.

…and hung up, never giving you a chance to say anything, not even that you love her or that you’ll send the money, or that you’ll pray for her. Just “click.”

And yet that is how we usually communicate with God. And sometimes we do it with the same identical words every day. I catch myself doing it, in such a rut that my mind is on auto-pilot. Sometimes, I have to ask myself if I even finished my prayer.

So how can we call that communication?

Wow. I’m so out of practice communicating that I’m a little intimidated, but I figure I have to start somewhere. I’ve been praying all my life, but I’ve been talking “to” God not “with” God. And my trust issues suddenly make a lot of sense.

How can you know someone you’ve never communicated with? How can you trust someone you don’t know?

Step 3 is a decision – our first real decision. I guess for me, this is the key. My decision comes down to this: I need to get to know God because I’ve decided to trust Him.

Step 3 - The choice to begin recovery

Choice. My life always come back to that. I think I have no choice, but I am wrong. Sometimes I choose to do nothing and the choice is made for me by default. That’s what addiction is all about I think. I choose to remain where I am because I avoid making the hard choice to change. Let’s face it: change is scary, change hurts, and change sucks. But when the situation we are in hurts more than the change, we are finally ready.

Choice. I have a niece. I love her dearly and she drives me crazy. Her theory in life is that we choose how we will react. Is that insane or what? Granted sometimes I worry she is going to push herself over the edge someday by being cheerful when she needs to accept she isn’t perfect and she is allowed to cry once in awhile, but generally (as much as I hate to admit it) she is right. She chooses to be happy and she is. I watch in amazement. Why isn’t it that clear-cut for me? I used to pretend it was, but she really radiates it.

Choice. Step Three is our first real action step. We make the choice to Recover. I’m amazed at how many people we lose from the group before they get to Step Three. That’s why I am there, but now I have to really commit. It isn’t just a wish any more. But it is more than just “I choose to Recover” that I am committing to. I am choosing to change some things in my life that will in turn help me recover.

Some I’ve already discussed:

• Humility
• Submission to the will of God
• Patience/Long-suffering

Along with these, are a few that I will need to develop in order to get ready for the next Steps:

• Gentleness
• Openness
• Temperance
• Diligence
• Gratitude

Think of it this way: these things are a formula for a super-Drain-O that clears the pathway between us and God/our Higher Power that allows Him to work in our lives. I admitted I couldn’t do it alone in Step One. I realized there was Hope through God in Step Two. Now I guess, I have to open the channel to God and Trust in His ability to help me.

Gentleness

As an addict, it is easy for me to be super-critical. Surprisingly, it is usually of myself and not others. I am, as the saying goes, my own worst enemy. But there are two people that I have had to forgive, to learn gentleness toward before I can expect to fall on the mercy of the Lord. No, make that three. I had to forgive my grandfather – to realize that he raised my father and uncles and aunt who are all incredible people and to realize that I don’t want him to suffer. I had to forgive my grandmother, because I blamed her for pushing and manipulating my grandfather toward his addiction. And I had to forgive myself for hating my grandparents when I wasn’t even sure if anything had really happened. I had to put everything in the past and gentle my soul so I could love people again. For as Paul preached to the Ephesians:

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

(Ephesians 4:32)

Openness

Why is it as I grow older, I grow more suspicious and hardened, unwilling to listen and learn? I become prideful and think I know more than those around me. I’m reading in the New Testament right now and am amazed that when Paul and Barnabas are preaching and the hearts of their listeners are “pricked,” the reaction is frequently that they attack rather than repent. In Lystra, Paul and Barnabas performed great miracles and were hailed as the gods Jupiter and Mercurius. Although they were able to convince the people they were not gods, Paul ended up being stoned by the people and dragged out of the city and left for dead.

How does this apply to me? Hopefully not with an exact parallel. But how often do I refuse the healing miracle? How often do I admit defeat before I even try? How many of us never even work the steps? How many of us are sure that our situation is so unique that none of this applies?

Me! But you know what? I was wrong. And if I give up trying to be the worst case out there, maybe there is hope for me.

Temperance

I’ve used the pendulum symbolism before. As addicts, we live in the world of extremes – in everything. I remember years ago, a bishop’s wife spoke in church and told us to stay in the mainstream of the church; not to be an extremist even in our devotion. My immediate thought was that she was making excusing for not being willing to live the gospel to the ultimate degree. I wanted to become perfect in this life and that didn’t mean staying in the mainstream.

Word to the wise – she was right. Insanity lies in that direction. She didn’t mean only to obey 50% of the commandments. She was warning against extremism such as trying to fast for 40 days. (Okay, I only made it for one week. Friends finally forced me to eat because after a week, you really have no appetite.) Sometimes we have to remember that we are not the Savior. But when you become an extremist, you lose the love for your fellowman because, try as you might, you begin looking down on their puny efforts.

You also damn yourself a thousand different ways when you fail.

As an addict, temperance is my lifeline. In order to be strong, I must respect my addiction so it doesn’t blindside me. Lack of temperance brings arrogance brings failure. Don’t believe me? Test it. Better yet: avoid that hornet’s nest all together.

Diligence
Okay – one word – elephant. If you are lost, please refer to previous posts.

There is a poem by D. H. Groberg that I love entitled, “The Race.” It talks of a young boy running a race with his father watching. He wants to win for his father so bad that he keeps falling. Still, remembering his father, he gets up each time and keeps going. He finishes last, far behind all the others, feeling defeated and a failure:

They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line first place
Head high, and proud and happy no falling, no disgrace

But when the fallen youngster crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race

And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he won the race to listen to the crowd

And to his dad he sadly said “I didn't do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.

“Quit, give up, your beaten,” they still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says, “Get up and win the race.”

For me it is simple: if I screw up, don’t give up. The race isn’t over.

Gratitude

This is an easy one to screw up on. When I make it through a day, I think I’ve succeeded. It’s easy to forget who got me through. It’s a little like the story of Harold.

Harold is walking down a darkened alley, when he's suddenly confronted by two masked men carrying guns. Fearing for his life, Harold throws his hands heavenward and begins to pray, "God, save me, please save me! I'll do anything, God - I'll go to synagogue every day, I'll take that long-overdue trip to Israel, and I'll even give half my income to charity!"

At that moment, a police car pulls into the alley, and the thugs flee. Harold looks heavenward and says, "Never mind, God, I took care of it myself!"

Don’t get me wrong. We have to do our part. We can’t be like the man who had all the faith in the world that God would save him and couldn’t figure out why he drowned.

A flood threatens a town, forcing everyone to evacuate, But Joe thinks, "I'm a devout man, God will save me," and stays put.

As the waters rise, Joe's neighbor comes by and says, "Joe come with me, we've got to go." Joe declines, "I'm a devout man, God will save me."

The waters keep rising, Joe scrambles to his second floor. A firefighter in a rowboat comes by. "Get in the boat or you'll drown," he says. Joe again declines, saying, "God will save me. So this flood story goes."

Finally, the flood waters force Joe to his roof. A police helicopter comes by and throws down a rope. "Climb up or you'll drown," the policeman yells. "No, I'm a devout man, God will save me," Joe replies.

Soon, Joe drowns. He arrives in heaven and challenges God. "Why didn't you help me?"

"What do you mean?" God says. "I did help. I sent a neighbor, a firefighter and a helicopter."

I have to recognize his help when it comes. Otherwise, I may just find myself back where I was, relying on the most unreliable source – me.

Step 3 – Fasting and prayer

So, I have come back to the beginning of this particular circle and find myself asking again: “How do you eat an elephant?” As I see it, I have one of three choices.

I can decide I can’t do this and walk away from the recovery program, intent on trying to fix myself by myself. Of course, if I am walking away because I can’t trust God, then why do I even care if I fix myself? It comes back to the fact that my soul has been in such pain that I don’t want to go back. And if you have been following this blog, you know how successful I have been over the years dealing with this problem by myself.

My second choice is to sit here (my here, not yours) and continue torturing myself with the “can I, can’t I” questions that are keeping me from sleeping and are putting my heart in a constant state of panic attack where I feel like an alien is going to jump out of my chest at any moment. Frankly, I am not receiving any answers, not feeling any more at peace, and not coming to any conclusions. I’m just miserable. I am still (for right now anyway) straddling the right side of the fence, but how long can I keep that up if I can’t resolve this question.

My third choice is a little harder to explain. When an infant starts to walk, I don’t think there is a long thought process worrying over each moment. “If I stand up, chances are mom and dad won’t bother to catch me when I fall because they want me to realize that falling hurts so I’d better learn to stand. And if I actually succeed in standing and begin moving my feet, my momentum will cause me to walk but when I fall, mom and dad are going to say: ‘We told you that you weren’t ready to walk yet, but would you listen to us? Of course not. And now you see what has happened?” Instead, in that perfect little mind a goal appears and the infant takes whatever move it is capable of in order to achieve that goal. And if the muscles aren’t quite ready, the babe tries again and again until the muscles are ready and the child achieves the goal. The parents patiently allow the child to fall and fall again, while hopefully protecting the child from serious harm. Why? Because they know that, in falling, the child learns to get up again. I guess what I am saying is that my third choice is to take the faltering steps forward in imperfect knowledge and imperfect faith, knowing that I am going to fall down but, that in doing so, I’ll still be a step closer to my goal. Hopefully my falling down won’t cost me my sobriety. Hopefully it will strengthen my faith.

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the phrase, “put it to the test.” In today’s fast-moving society, we seem to be losing the significance of that concept. Computer hardware and software changes so quickly that it is obsolete by the time it hits the shelves, so quality control testing is frequently substandard. As a result, companies create bug-fixes on an on-going basis. Look at products such as the ill-conceived Windows ME or Windows VISTA that were so filled with glitches that the next version of Windows was being prepared before those versions could be fixed. VISTA users have migrated back to XP in droves. “Put it to the test” just takes too much time for us. And yet, that is the eternal principal that I find staring back at me right now. President Gordon B. Hinckley of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint spoke with a group of church members in Paris, France in 2004 and said: “I plead with you, my brothers and sisters, that if you have any doubt concerning any doctrine of this Church, that you put it to the test. Try it. Live the principle. Get on your knees and pray about it, and God will bless you with a knowledge of the truth of this work.” The concept wasn’t lost on me. Basically I translated it into: If you want to know if something is true, live it and pray about it. Then you’ll know. I guess, like most of the world, I rely too heavily on my own mental abilities, and quite frankly, they are getting me nowhere right now.

So I’m taking a tentative deep breath – breathing is always good. I choose number three. I’m going to take the steps and try to put my life in the Lord’s hands. I’m going to pray the father’s prayer from Mark: “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Fasting is one of those steps. There are a lot of different thoughts about it. I used to be a lot better with it than I am now. As a person who has a weight problem (just another addiction folks – nothing to see here, although since working the program I’ve lost over 40 pounds) fasting is easy to mix up with dieting. I don’t think they are in any way related; especially when you fast and then gorge. I think that fasting has to do with submitting yourself to the will of God. Most of us don’t want to feel hungry, even for a few minutes. With fasting, we make a conscious decision to deny ourselves something that our body wants in order to show a willingness to take an action step – to humble our bodies – to focus on something other than our physical needs. So if all I’m thinking about during a fast is how hungry I am and how much I’m going to eat once the fast is over, I might as well not bother. Rather, I need to focus on using the time to communicate, to pray, to try to form the connection that is obviously lacking. Sigh. That’s a whole new world.

Yet prayer is supposed to be our greatest defense. If we can bring ourselves to pray when we are overcome with temptation, we can beat the temptation back. The problem is, and I’m speaking for myself here, when temptation hits, I don’t want to fight back. I don’t want to pray and I want my addiction. So prayer has to be solidly in place long before the temptation hits, as does fasting I guess. We have to be prepared enough so that we don’t turn on the Spirit and command Him to leave us alone with our addiction. To be willing to pray when we don’t really want to resist but before we are too far gone to listen to the Spirit is to humble ourselves and partake of the redeeming sacrifice before we become the aggressor.

What do you know? They were right all along. The best offense really is a good defense.

Right now, I’m a tragic case of multiple personalities. On my pain addiction, I’ve become strong – at least right now. I’m able to yield my heart to God and resist the temptation of my addiction. On my IMVU addiction, I’m gaining ground. I’m severed my ties with the rooms where I shouldn’t be but I’m still spending time in virtual reality when I should be working on other things that are far more important (and real) – procrastinating and even avoiding life. My food addiction is generally doing better but when I get frustrated, I still binge. But I would have to give myself failing marks on getting to bed on time and taking care of my health. So it’s still two steps forward, one step back.

But at least, for today, I don’t wish a mountain would land on top of me. And that is an improvement.