Friday: Willingness

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It is definitely COLD outside. It is a breezy, cold (-8c/w.c. -16c) We broke out our cold weather gear, scarfs and gloves tonight. It was a quick transit out and back.

I had to double-check my dates earlier today, and quickly organize a chip and cake for one of my guys tonight. Luckily, I had a special chip to give and on the way out bought a card, cake and utensils.

The reading tonight spoke about human will and its value. Willingness became the topic of conversation. We all had our stories to tell.

I know that trusting myself, and what is right and good, took a long time to learn how to trust, and believe that what I had to do and did do was, actually, the right thing to do.

Back in the day, when I needed constant supervision and assistance to learn how to survive a death sentence, Todd was that sound “mind and body” in my life.

Everything he taught me, all those years ago, are still in play to this day. I know today that if I do not know what to do, I close my eyes, and I return to the original lesson that taught me what to do.

I needed someone in my life, to the degree that Todd was in my life, for as long as it lasted. As long as he was looking over my shoulder, I was good.

When he moved away, and I was alone, I could not make the link between what I learned from him, and what I needed to do to carry forwards that practical knowledge. When you leave a fully structured existence and one returns to the real world outside, making that very important connection is crucial.

I failed at finding and making that connection work for me. I just could not find it, in front of me, by myself. And in time, as the messaging and people changed in my life, I walked out the doors of the rooms, taking my will back with it.

I told my friend Dave one of my sordid stories about my slip, before the meeting, sitting with my friend who took his chip tonight. Neither had ever heard me tell that story before. And for the life of me, I cannot fathom how I ended up the person I had become, insane, addicted to drugs and putting myself in situations that could have ended up very badly.

There is a God. I am sure of that today.

When I came back, I was no longer alone. I turned my will and my life over to the care of God, as I understood Him, in the people who helped me clean up that second time.

When I moved to Montreal, I did the right thing, FIRST.

I connected with a room and its people.

Women make the world go round …

I count my blessings that the group of women I turned my life over to, that first year, did what they could to make sure I stayed sober. My rehab counselors, the women in my Home Group, and the many people, men and women, I met along the way.

I am working on my anniversary post right now.

For a long time, in sobriety, I did not trust myself with making decisions, that I did not run past at least a handful of people, before I acted on anything. I did not trust my head nor my decision-making skills.

Early on, I was faced with one drama after another. The shit just kept coming, one day after the next. I was sober a little more than a year, I had begun my university career and my husband was mentally ill.

I stuck to the routine I learned how to do since day one.

I hit a meeting every day, sometimes more than one meeting a day. I did service. I took care of my family, to the best of my ability. I did not really have time to think, but while at a meeting, I learned what I needed to do to NOT DRINK, that day.

As long as I DID NOT DRINK, everything else would fall into place.

I strung days, weeks, and months together, that wound up years.

I learned how to trust God, in trusting my friends.

That plan has played out to my advantage. But my trust in the fellowship and many of its members has fallen to the lowest approval rating in all my sober years.

I’ve never felt such anger, resentment and bitterness towards other drunks. Because that is what they are, just a bunch of crazy drunks.

I know that I do not want to be like any of them. And I also know, what the voice of God sounds like, because like we are told, constantly, that:

If you want to hear the voice of God, then go to a meeting.

Today I trust myself. More than I have ever trusted myself before.

There is a God and I am not God.

Thanks be to God for that.

Friends celebrated two and three years tonight. There was cake.

We all laughed and had a glorious night.

Step Eleven says that: Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying for the knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

If sobriety has taught me anything, it is that a Spiritual life and Spiritual practice make everything better. As long as I stay out of my will, and connect daily with God’s will, everything will work itself out – in God’s time.

God’s time is perfect.

We surely need the perfect to guide us, in today’s world of utter despair and insanity.

The world is coming apart at the seams.

This is what dishonesty does to the world when it exponentially explodes out of control.

Monday – Shouts and Whispers

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My head SHOUTS, but my heart Whispers, So I stay out of my head …

This passage is written at the bottom of the story we read tonight; Me an Alcoholic ?

There are only certain people, whom, I know, were messengers from God.

Memere was the first. Todd was the second. Elder Christensen is the third.

I believe that when I pray to God, I don’t usually expect a direct answer, not in the past. And I know that if I pray, and that answer does not come, then I need to go sit with my friends, because answers usually come from someone close, between people.

I had a conversation with Elder Christensen the other day. On Friday I sat with my friends, who gave me sound advice, that I can trust. Over the weekend, I sat, for a long time, and I prayed, then I listened.

The conversation I was having with God, came in the form of a conversation that I was having with Elder Christensen, because his word is true, his faith and conviction are second to none. He is spiritually connected.

And he is connected to me.

Talking to him in real time the other night, was something I really needed, if only to hear him talk to me.

When I doubt myself, which is most of the time, I did not necessarily turn to prayer to confirm what it was I was hearing in response. In a moment of inspiration, I imagined the voice of the Elder in my minds eye.

All of a sudden, the words became true. I knew they were true. In that moment.

God is with me. And everything is going to be alright.

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Everything is alright in the end, if it is not alright,  it is not the end …

Big Snow is on the way. It is going to be miserable for the next few days.

Over the weekend, a Winter Hurricane Storm rolled over New Foundland. Many homes were destroyed. Mama’s roof has considerable damage and needs to be repaired. Her parent’s home roof was also destroyed in the storm, along with hundreds of other homes  across the island.

Street lights are down. Buildings have been trashed. Cars and trucks have been either damaged or destroyed due to falling trees or building material, or just that they were blow off their bottoms.

The “cities” don’t have surplus supplies of things that were destroyed in the storm, but they have some, until they run out of stock. Then they will have to ship supplies, food, building materials and the like from off island.

Say a little prayer for our people out on The Rock.