Enoch never set out to be a great leader.
When God called him, Enoch felt unqualified—slow of speech, rejected by the people, unsure he had anything to offer. That sounds familiar. Many of us begin recovery the same way: convinced we are too broken, too late, or too flawed to change.
But God doesn’t wait for perfection. He works with willingness.
In the Book of Moses, Enoch is sent to a violent and corrupt people. Instead of condemning them, he invites them to see themselves clearly, to repent, and to turn back toward God. That mirrors recovery’s first honest step—admitting where we are, without excuses, without blame, and without hiding.
Enoch teaches that the Fall is real—but so is redemption. This is one of the great recovery truths. We don’t deny the damage. We don’t rewrite the past. But we also don’t live trapped in it. From the beginning, God prepared a way forward, centered in Christ. Healing was always part of the plan.
As Enoch speaks, something remarkable happens. The people listen. Hearts soften. Behavior changes. They begin to live differently—fairly, compassionately, together. Scripture calls this society Zion: one heart, one mind, no poor among them.
Zion didn’t appear because people became perfect.
It appeared because people became honest, connected, and willing to live for something larger than themselves.
That’s recovery.
In meetings, kitchens, service centers, and quiet conversations, we see the same thing. Isolation gives way to belonging. Shame loosens its grip. We stop living against one another and start standing with one another. No one is left alone. No one is above anyone else. Healing becomes shared work.
Then comes one of the most startling moments in scripture: God weeps.
Enoch sees that God is not distant or indifferent. He weeps because His children suffer. He honors agency, even when it leads to pain, but He never stops loving. For many of us in recovery, this is a turning point—realizing that God is not waiting to punish, but grieving with us and rooting for our return.
Enoch is shown the future: destruction, loss, and yet—hope. Christ will come. Healing will prevail. Zion will return.
Recovery works the same way. We don’t pretend the wreckage didn’t happen. But we trust that the story isn’t finished. One day at a time, something new is built. Slowly, quietly, a different way of living takes root.
Zion isn’t a place we arrive at all at once.
It’s a direction.
It’s a practice.
It’s a people choosing honesty, humility, and love—again and again.
And like Enoch, we discover we were never too weak to begin. We were simply waiting to say yes.

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