Apparently, this is the step that separates the men from the boys.
Admitting the exact nature of my wrongs was an important step. Don’t get me wrong. It made me feel like a member of the club. And while making that laundry list and reading it aloud was a soul-drudging process, when it was over, what did I have?
A big pile of crap, that I then pointed at and said to another, “Look what I did. Yes sir, I made that. I admit it. This heap of garbage was all my doing.” Staring up into the heavens and slapping my chest I declared, “God, look down upon this steaming load that I have created. Picking through it you, I, and this other person can clearly see the exact nature of my wrongs.”
To which the response came, “That’s nice. So, what’re you going to do about it?”
Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
Good question. And at first glance, Step Six seemed to be a no-brainer. At least it was the first couple times I arrived at its doorstep. I felt like the orphan boy Oliver asking for more porridge. “Yes, please. Thank you, sir.” If ever a step screamed, “duh!”, this was it.
But the catch comes in the first three words. This step doesn’t say, “Would you like to have God remove all these defects of character?” Step Six is not a question.
With those three words, “Were entirely ready,” the ownness is placed squarely on me. I needed to become entirely ready. And the more I thought about the implications, the more daunting this little step became.