God Wastes Nothing

Dear Reader, 

In a 1964 letter later published in As Bill Sees It (p. 168), Bill Wilson wrote: 
 
“Though many theologians hold that sudden spiritual experiences amount to a special distinction, if not a divine appointment of some sort, I question this view. Every human being, no matter what his attributes for good or evil, is a part of the divine spiritual economy. Therefore, each of us has his place, and I cannot see that God intends to exalt one another. 
 
“So it is necessary for all of us to accept whatever positive gifts we receive with a deep humility, always bearing in mind that our negative attitudes were first necessary as a means of reducing us to such a state that we would be ready for a gift of the positive ones via the conversion experience. Your own alcoholism and the immense deflation that finally resulted are indeed the foundation upon which your spiritual experience rests.” 
 
What strikes me most is Bill’s rejection of spiritual elitism. He suggests that profound spiritual experiences are not signs that God loves one person more than another. Rather, every soul has a place in God’s plan, and every gift should be received with humility. 
 
I believe God is no respecter of persons.  
“Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons.” (Acts 10:34)  
“The Lord inviteth them all to come unto him... black and white, bond and free, male and female.” (2 Nephi 26:33) 
 
Every person is literally a child of God with divine worth and eternal potential. 
 
President Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught:  
“God sees you not only as a mortal being on a small planet who lives for a brief season—He sees you as His child.”  
The emphasis is not on who receives the most dramatic revelation, but on God’s love for all His children. 
 
I also found something profound in the second part of Bill’s letter. Our negative attitudes and painful experiences can become the means by which we are humbled and made ready to receive God’s gifts. 
 
Notice the pattern: 

•  Weakness 
• Humility
•  Surrender 
• Grace 
• Strength  
  

This pattern is essentially the heart of the Twelve Steps and can also be found throughout scripture. 
 

• Moses needed forty years in the wilderness. 
  
• Jonah needed the belly of the fish. 
  
• Alma the Younger needed his collapse and conversion. 
  
• Paul needed his “thorn in the flesh.” 
  

 
The Lord often transforms us through what first humbles us. 
 
“If men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness... then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” (Ether 12:27) 
 
Three additional quotations come to mind: 
 
“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.” — C. S. Lewis 
 
“The craving for alcohol was the equivalent of a spiritual thirst.” — Carl Jung 
 
“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” — Marcus Aurelius 
 
For me, the simple truth is that we would never have chosen a path of failure, broken families, addiction, or loss. Yet under God’s hand, those very things can become instruments of awakening. 
 
This does not mean God causes alcoholism. Nor does it mean suffering is inherently good. It means God can redeem what we cannot. 
 
As the Apostle Paul expressed: 
 
“We know that all things work together for good to them that love God.” (Romans 8:28) 
 
God wastes nothing. 
 

• Not our failures. 
  
• Not our losses. 
  
• Not our addictions. 
  
• Not our grief. 
  

 
When surrendered to Him, even our greatest defeats can become foundations for grace. 
 
Our weaknesses do not disqualify us from God’s work; they often become the very means by which He teaches us humility, dependence, faith, and ultimately, divine strength. 
 
Amen. 
 
🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️ 

 

Contrasts of the Soul

Dear Reader, 

A friend recently sent me this quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson: 

“We do not live an equal life, but one of contrasts and patchwork; now a little joy, then a sorrow, now a sin, then a generous or brave action.” 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) was an American essayist, poet, and philosopher who helped lead the Transcendentalist movement in mid-19th-century New England. I wondered where this quote came from and discovered that it was not from an essay or poem, but from Emerson’s 1847 journal, published in Vol. VII, covering 1845–1848. 

Once that mystery was resolved, I began reflecting on the meaning behind his words. The word “patchwork” creates a vivid image: Amish quilts, fields of grain, orchards, and fence lines—all joined piece by piece into something whole. 

As I write now, Emerson’s thought speaks deeply to what I have come to understand as “life on life’s terms.” 

For example, we are not always brave enough to overcome our weaknesses, nor are we always selfless in our generosity. We are souls in motion, learning through joy and sorrow, failure and repentance, fear and courage. 

The image of “patchwork” feels strikingly honest. Life is not cut from one perfect cloth. It is stitched together from many pieces—some bright, some torn, some stained, and some beautiful. Yet in God’s hands, even broken pieces can become part of something redemptive. 

I think of 1 and 2 John. John does not write as a detached philosopher, but as a spiritual witness. He teaches that “God is light” and invites us to walk in that light. He also teaches that God is love, and that love is not merely something we claim with words, but something we live through truth and action. 

This is where life experience shows contrast or “patchwork.” 

We may speak of love, yet withhold forgiveness. 

We may desire light, yet still hide in shadows. 

We may believe in God, yet resist surrender. 

We may stumble in sin, yet still be called toward generosity, courage, and grace. 

The lesson is not merely that the quilt is made of patches. The greater lesson is that, when those patches are joined together, they can become something unique and beautiful. 

Recovery has taught me a similar lesson. 

In recovery, I have learned that honesty is the beginning of healing. We stop pretending that life is equal, neat, or under our control. We admit the contrast. We admit powerlessness. We admit wrongs. We make amends where possible. We learn to live one day at a time, not as perfect people, but as willing people. 

The language of recovery and the language of John join in the same place: truth must be lived. 

It is not enough to say we are in the light if we continue to walk in darkness. It is not enough to say we love God if we refuse to love the brother or sister before us. It is not enough to believe in healing if we will not take the next honest step. Even our fragmented weaknesses, when honestly surrendered to God, can become part of a stronger soul and a more compassionate heart. 

The question is not whether contrast exists within us. It does. The deeper question is: What will we do with it? 

Will sorrow make us bitter, or compassionate? 

Will sin lead us to hiding, or repentance? 

Will weakness become an excuse, or a doorway to grace? 

Will joy make us self-satisfied, or grateful? 

That path is not always easy. It asks us to look honestly at ourselves. It asks us to confess what needs confessing, repair what can be repaired, forgive what must be released, and serve where we are able. 

It asks us to stop judging the whole of our life by one torn patch and instead place the entire patchwork in the hands of God. 

I believe Emerson was right. We do not live an equal life. We live one of contrasts and patchwork. 

As for the contrast of the soul, God is still working. 

In the sorrow, He can teach compassion. 

In the sin, He can invite repentance. 

In the joy, He can awaken gratitude. 

In the generous or brave action, He can reveal the person we are becoming. 

The soul may be patchwork, but in the hands of Christ, even a patchwork of fragments can become holy. 

Amen 

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️