As Far as the East Is from the West

Dear Reader,

This evening I have been spending time with Psalm 103. Within it, I find a beautiful description of God's mercy—not only toward David, but toward each of us.

David begins with words many of us know:

“Bless the LORD, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.”
—Psalm 103:1

Then comes an important instruction:

“And forget not all his benefits.”
—Psalm 103:2

Those words remind me of the closing line of the AA Promises:

“We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.”
—Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 84

For those of us in recovery, this reminder has special meaning.

After many years in recovery, it can become surprisingly easy to forget where I came from. I know I sometimes forget the loneliness, the fear, the broken relationships, the broken promises, and the repeated resolve that tomorrow would be different.

What I cannot forget is that God met me there.

So it is vital that I “forget not all His benefits.”

This is not to say that I have everything straightened out or that I have repaired every mistake. I am still a work in progress.

I am saying that God meets me where I am, and He is still teaching me a better way of living.

Here I am encouraged by David's continuing words:

“Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases;
Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies.”
—Psalm 103:3–4

Forgives → heals → redeems → crowns.

There is movement in those words. God does not merely forgive the past; He begins restoring the person.

These are not the words of a God reluctantly tolerating His children. They describe a God actively reaching out to us.

I do not read “who healeth all thy diseases” as a promise that every physical illness will disappear or every wound will be immediately healed. Some healing takes place within us as God gives us strength to live through what cannot yet be changed.

Through the guidance of a Higher Power, recovery has helped me understand that forgiveness is much larger than simply having a debt erased.

Forgiveness allows life to begin again.

It does not mean every consequence disappears. Some wounds require time. Some relationships may never return to what they once were. Some things we damaged may require amends, patience, and years of changed behavior.

But our past does not have to become our permanent identity.

God does not look upon the repentant soul and say,

“You will always be the worst thing you ever did.”

Psalm 103 tells us something very different:

“The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.”
—Psalm 103:8

And then comes one of the most beautiful promises in scripture:

“As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.”
—Psalm 103:12

Think about that image. East and west give us a picture of immeasurable separation. David is telling us that when God forgives, He does not keep our sins nearby so He can continually hold them against us.

That is how completely God is willing to separate the repentant person from the sin that once seemed to define him.

This does not give us permission to ignore responsibility. Quite the opposite.

Because I have been forgiven, I am free to become responsible.
Because I have received mercy, I can make amends.
Because I have been shown patience, I can learn patience.
Because someone carried the message of recovery to me, I can carry it to someone else.

And this is where Psalm 103 begins to meet Step Twelve:

“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”
—Step Twelve

The spiritual awakening is not simply that I stopped drinking.

It is discovering that a life I thought was finished could be redeemed.

It is realizing that failure did not exhaust God's patience.

It is discovering that grace was present even when I could barely recognize it.

And once I truly understand that, something changes.

I begin wanting another suffering person to know it too.

I can sit beside someone who believes his life is beyond repair and say:

I once believed that too.

I can listen to another person's shame without condemnation because I remember my own.

I can offer hope because hope was once offered to me.

God's mercy does not end with me. Mercy received becomes mercy shared.

This may be one of the deepest meanings of carrying the message.

We are not carrying a message that says,

“Look how well I have done.”

We are carrying a message that says,

“Look what God can do with a surrendered life.”

Psalm 103 even acknowledges how fragile we are:

“For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.”
—Psalm 103:14

I find tremendous comfort in those words.

God knows exactly what He is working with.

He knows our weaknesses.
He knows our fears.
He knows the resentments we struggle to release, the habits that stubbornly remain, and the character defects that occasionally reappear when we thought they were long gone.

He remembers that we are dust.

Yet He loves us still.

His mercy is not based upon our perfection.

David writes:

“But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him.”
—Psalm 103:17

Here I understand the fear of the Lord not simply as being afraid, but as reverence—recognizing who God is and placing myself humbly before Him.

From everlasting to everlasting.

There is no corner of my past where God's mercy cannot reach.

No yesterday so dark that He cannot redeem it.

No failure so deeply buried that His light cannot find it.

And no person sitting in an AA meeting, a church pew, a jail cell, a hospital room, or alone at a kitchen table at three in the morning is beyond the reach of God's love.

That is the hope I hear in Psalm 103.

And that is the hope I believe Step Twelve asks us to carry.

We do not carry perfection.

We carry experience.

We do not carry judgment.

We carry compassion.

We do not tell people that life will suddenly become easy.

We tell them that they no longer have to walk through it alone.

Someone once carried that message to us.

Today it may be our turn to carry it to someone else.

And when we do, our recovery becomes more than something that saved our own life. It becomes a means through which God may touch another.

Psalm 103 begins with remembering what God has done for us. Step Twelve asks what we will do with what God has done for us.

So today I join David in saying:

“Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”

I will remember the forgiveness.
I will remember the redemption.
I will remember the lovingkindness.
I will remember the people God placed along my road.

And then, with gratitude, I will try to become one of those people for someone else.

For God's mercy is greater than our past.

His love is greater than our weakness.

And His forgiveness reaches—

as far as the east is from the west.

🙏