In this series of posts, I wanted to share how three of my relationships have gone through a transformation. In each relationship, I had to ask God to help me see that relationship as it was in reality rather than the way that that relationship had been unconsciously disfigured by fear. Last week, we explored our relationship with our addicted loved ones. Today I want to focus on my relationship with God.
In the beginning of my recovery journey, a woman at a meeting shared how her large family prayed the rosary together just before dinner each evening. After dinner, her mother would begin drinking. When she would drink, she’d become violent. To this day, that woman has a hard time accepting God and any type of religion.
I could see how that would scar a child or even an adult around the topic of religion or more specifically God. Others would share similar stories or scenes of rigid religious homes that were devoid of love and security. Sometimes people would come into our meeting rooms feeling as though those in the religious community judged them for any number of reasons and so they steered clear of church altogether.
I never really thought about my honest-to-goodness feelings towards God until I heard others share their experiences at meetings. I could spout off scriptural references that I’d heard my whole life. But, I wasn’t so sure of the personal relationship that I had with God.
That is when I realized that my experience of God was incongruent with the scriptures I quoted. While I was taught that God was good and loving, I was also afraid to let my guard down around him. I was afraid that I wouldn’t measure up. Unconsciously, I really thought that he was waiting for me to mess up and then boy, oh boy would I pay for that. For whatever reason, deep down, I felt that God only loved me when I was doing the right things.
In 12-step rooms, the second step is: “Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” Early on, I didn’t see a need to work that step. I didn’t remember a time when I didn’t believe in God. But as I listened to the folks who would walk through the door who had little trust or little belief in God, I realized that my relationship with God as I knew it, needed healing.
One day at a meeting, a man walked in and said that he didn’t believe in God. He knew that 12-step groups are spiritual in nature and he wanted to be sure that he didn’t have to believe to be welcome in our group. In my faith tradition growing up, someone would have tried to evangelize him as soon as he uttered that phrase. Here in this room, an old-timer said, “That’s alright. I’m glad you’re here.” Then she said, “Do you believe that the chair that you are sitting in can hold you up?” The man said, “Yes” while looking as confused as I felt. “Then let that be your higher power for today.” She said.
He was accepted. He didn’t have to believe. No one tried to change his mind. They just asked him to believe in something other than himself. Was this sacrilege? While I was concerned, I kept coming back. I kept seeing people being accepted, welcomed and loved right where they were. No one tried to change or fix them. They just listened and tried to support them.
At this early part of my recovery I was also beginning to learn about Ignatian Spirituality which is based on St. Ignatius of Loyola’s spiritual exercises. He became the founder of the order of priests known as the Jesuits–which is the order that Pope Francis is a part of. St. Ignatius started to observe his feelings as a sort of communication with God. He asked his fellow priests to ‘Look for God in all things.’ I was intrigued by this practice and started to make a list each day, of where I’d found God.
Over time, I noticed a pattern of goodness: The God that I was coming to understand was generous and merciful. He listened to me. He had a sense of humor. And even when I forgot about him, he was always there for me. It was as if he’d been there waiting for me all of this time. Even though I messed up often, he seemed to want nothing more than to help me pick up the pieces. Familiarity grew. I began to feel loved.
Recovery rooms helped me to become open to those who didn’t believe as I did. They helped me learn that my job wasn’t to fix them. St. Ignatius taught me how to look for God. Both of these new tools helped me gain an authentic day-in-day-out friendship with God.
A few months after the man who didn’t believe in God showed up at our meeting, our topic was on gratitude. We went around the room listing all of the things that we have to be grateful for. When we got to our nonbeliever, he sat there for a second to collect himself. With a shaky voice and tear-filled eyes he said, “I’ve never really believed in God, but because of you people, I’m starting to think that maybe I am wrong.” That is all that he said. It was so powerful because the only job that God gives us is to love one another. He will take care of the rest. I’d just seen proof.
So my friends, I want for you to prayerfully consider this question: who is the God of your understanding? Are you experiencing his love for you? Do you realize that you don’t have to measure up or qualify for his love? Do you know for certain that regardless of what is happening in your family, he is waiting with open arms for you to ask him to help you heal? If you don’t, I hope that you will ask him to show you the way back to him. Know that I will be praying for you.