I don’t give high-fives for doing nothing. Nothing exploding should be a given, right? Am I now rewarding myself for not doing wrong? No, I’m not. So, giving out credit didn’t seem necessary, either.
A Month of Promises (pages 83-84), sentence 12: We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
It felt tacked on, the need to pay tribute to God at the end of the promises, just to make it an even twelve. Like this was all made possible by God. I didn’t see any burning bushes. What about what I’ve managed to not do for an extended period of time? Where’s my pat on the back?
That’s stinking thinking to be sure, and I acknowledge it, but there it is. That’s how I think every now and again. Example: even while sitting in church this morning, I felt there ought to be a division of church and state, state being my program. Others in the fellowship dovetail the two seamlessly, and more power to them. I know that I’m letting go, and that seems to be working. However, am I truly acknowledging the “letting God” part? And do I really need to? Is it possible to simply let go and let go? Will that keep me sober?
Woah – heavy questions for a Sunday. During this morning’s time of reflection I bowed my head, closed my eyes and thanked God for the life afforded me today. All I can say is that my disease prays daily that I start believing in my own hype; that I stop listening. That I take nothing and leave the rest.
Today, I let go and just go with it. I know now that my realizations have never been sudden; I’m usually the last to put things together, especially when they concern me. Some days, when serenity is recognized, it’s spiritual. Other days, it’s happy coincidences made possible through tools learned in the program. My daily acknowledgement that it’s not just me doing this, not by a long shot, is the key.
More to be revealed.