The Responsibility of Recovery

 

Dear Reader,

This morning I have been considering a word that does not always sound very spiritual:

Responsibility.

For much of my life, I believed responsibility simply meant doing what was expected of me—mowing the lawn, delivering papers, saving money, meeting family expenses, keeping commitments, and taking care of the ordinary duties of daily life.

For long periods during adolescence and early adulthood, I was able to meet these responsibilities remarkably well.

However, as the roots of addiction and alcoholism slowly choked my existence, even these basic responsibilities began to disappear.

By the time I found recovery, responsibility was no longer a quality I could honestly claim for myself.

When I first came into Alcoholics Anonymous, much of my attention was centered on what had happened to me.

There were disappointments, losses, broken relationships, fears, resentments, and circumstances I deeply wished had been different.

In early sobriety, much of my growth involved learning again to take responsibility for the basic needs of life.

Slowly, I gained enough strength and stability to begin repairing relationships, meeting everyday obligations, and learning to live life twenty-four hours at a time.

Over the years, through working a Twelve Step program, I began to regain some sense of sanity.

With the guidance of a sponsor, the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, and a growing faith in a Higher Power, I came to understand that responsibility reaches far beyond simply doing what is expected of me.

Certainly, I remain responsible for the life immediately around me.

But recovery gradually introduced me to a deeper understanding of responsibility.

It brought me to a question that continues to challenge me:

“What am I going to do about the person I am today?”

That question changes everything.

I no longer have to allow yesterday to dictate what I do today.

I can acknowledge the past without continuing to live there.

I can accept responsibility for the life that is placed before me now.

There is an important difference between responsibility and control.

I cannot change yesterday.

I cannot control what another person thinks of me.

I cannot make someone forgive me.

I cannot guarantee tomorrow.

I cannot control the outcome of every decision I make.

But today, I can act.

I can take an honest inventory.

I can admit when I am wrong.

I can make amends where possible.

I can ask for help.

I can pray.

I can forgive.

I can show up.

I can reach out to another person who is struggling.

And I can choose the next right thing.

For me, this is where recovery and spirituality have gradually become inseparable.

At one time, surrender sounded almost like giving up.

I have since learned that spiritual surrender is very different from abandoning responsibility.

When I turn my will and my life over to God, I am not asking God to live my life for me.

I am asking for His direction.

Then I must still step forward, take action, and accept responsibility for my choices.

The Serenity Prayer expresses this beautifully:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.

There is responsibility in every line.

Serenity asks me to stop fighting what is beyond my control.

Courage asks me to act where action is possible.

Wisdom helps me discern the difference.

That is not passive spirituality.

It is an active partnership with God.

Recovery has also taught me that responsibility grows as we grow.

In the beginning, my responsibility was very simple:

Don’t drink today.

Then it became attending meetings, listening to others, working the Steps, calling someone when I needed help, and becoming willing to look honestly at myself.

As recovery deepened, responsibility began asking different questions:

How do I treat people?

Do I keep my word?

Do I carry resentment, or do I practice forgiveness?

Do I listen?

Do I serve?

And most recently, responsibility has taken on an even deeper meaning:

When someone reaches out for help, am I willing to reach back?

Gradually, the question of my life has changed from:

“What can I get from life?”

to:

“What can I give to life?”

Through my experience, I have discovered that God does not always remove the road in front of me.

More often, He gives me enough light to take the next step.

For me, this is one of the quiet miracles of spirituality:

The outcome remains His.

The step remains mine.

My prayer today is that I may recognize the small part of this world that has been placed in my hands—and care for it well.

My recovery.

My choices.

My words.

My actions.

My willingness to help another human being.

I cannot control where every road leads.

But with God’s help, I can be responsible for the direction of my next step.

And for today, that is enough.

🙏🧘‍♂️💕🤗☮️