To Be Known, Be Willing to Know: A Message on Friendship, Recovery, and Reaching Out

Dear Reader,

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone who feels completely unappreciated?

They often say things like, “No one ever talks to me,” or “I just can’t relate to those people.” When asked for more understanding, the answer may come back as, “We have nothing in common,” or “They seem strange.”

Recently, I’ve had several conversations along these lines. When I asked, “Did you go up to them and try to get to know them? Did you ask how they were doing?”—the most common response I heard was some version of, “No. I was waiting for them to talk to me.”

It’s here that I gently offer a hard truth I’ve had to learn myself: the real barrier is often not them, but us. If you want to have friends, you need to be a friend. You can’t stay on the sidelines of life, expecting others to make the first move. You have to get in the game.

That’s not to say it’s always easy. Some people won’t let you in. But don’t let that discourage you. Keep showing up. Keep trying. Trust the process. Fellowship and friendship are acts of faith.

There is deep wisdom from both spiritual and scholarly voices that support this call to reach out:

William James, the father of American psychology, said:
“The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated.”

Carl Rogers, a pioneer in humanistic psychology, observed:
“When someone really hears you without passing judgment… it feels damn good.”

The philosopher Albert Camus reminds us:
“Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

From scripture, we read in Proverbs 18:24 (KJV):
“A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”

In our Latter-day Saint tradition, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland taught:

“Christlike love is the greatest need we have on this planet. In relationships, it is kindness—not judgment—that invites unity.”
(October 2018, “The Ministry of Reconciliation”)

And President Gordon B. Hinckley wisely observed:

“The most miserable people I know are those who are obsessed with themselves. The happiest people I know are those who lose themselves in the service of others.”
(October 1986, “Whosoever Will Save His Life”)

Those in recovery circles know this truth well. Dr. Bob Smith, co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, put it plainly:

“If you’re going to stay sober, you’ve got to help someone else.”

And in the AA Big Book, we’re told:

“Nothing will so much insure immunity from drinking as intensive work with other alcoholics. It works when other activities fail.”
(Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 89)

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In recovery, in faith, and in life, connection is not passive. It is something we choose, cultivate, and pursue. While we all long to be seen, we must first learn to see. While we hope to be loved, we must first become love.

Healing begins not when others reach out to us—but when we step out in courage, humility, and compassion toward them.

So today, if you’re feeling unseen, unheard, or alone—try this: look around. Ask someone how they’re doing. Be the one to step forward. That single moment of kindness might open the door to a friendship that changes everything.

Warmly,
Steve Burgess

Buzzed, Baffled, and Barely Chuckling: A Search for Laughter in the Noise

 

Dear Reader,

This morning, I set out with noble intent: to laugh.

Armed with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and high hopes, I turned to the tried and true—Peanuts, Garfield, and even that mysterious humor known as “Garfunkel.” Sadly, none delivered. The punchlines felt like tofu: technically there, but missing any flavor of joy. I asked myself the question many of us fear:

Have I lost my sense of humor?

Before I could spiral too far into self-reflection, two uninvited guests began circling my head: a pair of flies with more energy than caffeine and more persistence than a toddler at bedtime. I waved them away like a low-budget Jedi, but they returned again and again—performing a synchronized ballet above my forehead as if I were the opening act to their comedy tour.

And maybe that’s where the joke was all along.

These flies, I realized, were funnier than the comics. Relentless. Ridiculous. Rebellious. I could either be annoyed—or entertained. So I named them. One became Buzz Aldrin (for obvious reasons), the other Lord of the Wings. And suddenly, I found myself chuckling.

But humor doesn’t always arrive with a joke. Sometimes it shows up disguised as interruption, as absurdity, or in AI-generated puns that are so bad they border on criminal:

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AI Humor Break:

• What’s a fly’s favorite dance? The buzz-step.

• I tried writing a blog post on joy, but it was swarmed by edits and two insects with performance anxiety.

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Why Does This Matter?

Because laughter is more than a reaction—it’s a release.

In a world swirling with real burdens, politics, news alerts, and unmet expectations, laughter is the pressure valve that keeps the soul from exploding. It reminds us we’re human. That joy, however small, is worth pursuing—even if it’s through the antics of airborne intruders or digital jokes generated by a machine who never even learned knock-knock protocol.

So today, I encourage you:

• Name your flies.

• Laugh when the toast lands jelly-side down.

• Let a groan-worthy pun remind you you’re still alive and able to groan.

• And when the world is too serious, be the one who carries a bit of nonsense like a lantern in the dark.

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Closing Thought:

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” – Proverbs 17:22

May your heart be cheerful today—even if it takes two ridiculous flies and a few puns to get there.

Aging with Grace and Purpose

 

Dear Friends,

Does it seem strange how much we worry and fret about growing old? Some go to great lengths to cover up wrinkles or tighten skin. Others retreat from active lives, limiting their adventures in hopes of delaying the inevitable. But in my experience, avoiding life only seems to hasten the very things we fear.

It is better, then, to embrace life—as Maya Angelou so beautifully puts it:

"I love living. I love that I'm alive to love my age... I love, too, that I know a little more today than I did yesterday, or I simply know it more profoundly."

Aging is not a decline but a deepening. When we remember that we are beloved children of a loving God—growing day by day into our inheritance in His Kingdom—we find the courage to keep moving forward, even when the path is hard. In recovery circles we say, “If we’re not moving forward, we’re sliding backward.” Both thoughts speak to a truth: progress—spiritual, mental, and physical—is our best antidote to the fear of aging.

Of course, I’m not so naïve as to say aging doesn’t bring its challenges. But I’ve learned to meet them with humor and grace. As Shakespeare wisely wrote:

“With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.”

A friend once told me that his mother used to say, “I’m not afraid of dying—I just want to live all the way to the end.” To me, that is not only honest, it’s profound philosophy.

Scripture reinforces this hopeful endurance. In Matthew 24:13 we read:

“But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.”

And from the Book of Mormon, we’re reminded in 2 Nephi 2:25:

“Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.”
Even in our later years, joy is not only possible—it is our purpose.

President Russell M. Nelson, a prophet in his 90s who continues to teach and serve with vigor, once encouraged:

“The Lord loves effort, because effort brings rewards that can’t come without it.”
Our effort to keep learning, loving, and growing—even as our bodies change—is itself a sacred offering.

So let’s wear our years not as burdens, but as blessings. Let’s keep showing up, staying engaged, and offering our wisdom and love to a world that needs it. For as long as we are here, we are here for a reason.

Let us live—not just long, but well.
Let us love our age, and the God who walks with us through every season of it.

With hope and fellowship,
Steve

Personal Phoenix Rising

Good morning, Dear Reader,

I want to share with you a few thoughts on recovery and the mythical bird—the Phoenix.

Many of us who arrive at the doors of recovery have lost all or nearly all. Broke, alone, and sick in both body and soul. I remember sitting alone in my apartment, drunk and on the verge of losing my job.

For people like me, we had to come close to the ashes before we were willing to reach for help. Bill W. describes it with clarity and grace in A.A. Comes of Age (p. 46):

“Such is the paradox of A.A. regeneration: strength arising out of complete defeat and weakness, the loss of one’s old life as a condition for finding a new one.”

From that place of near-ruin, something remarkable can begin. Tolkien wrote:

“From the ashes, a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring…”
— The Fellowship of the Ring

And Jennifer Weiner reminds us:

“Sometimes the worst thing that happens to you, the thing you think you can’t survive… it’s the thing that makes you better than you used to be.”

In my own life, I testify that I was living in a state of what the Big Book calls incomprehensible demoralization. But by letting go—and letting a Higher Power, whom I now know as my Heavenly Father—take over, my life today is something beautiful, rising truly from the ashes.

The Book of Mormon expresses this transformation powerfully in Mosiah 27:25–26:

“Marvel not that all mankind… must be born again; yea, born of God, changed from their carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness… becoming his sons and daughters; and thus they become new creatures.”

This rebirth is not limited to me. It is offered to all.
As Jesus taught:

“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up:
That whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” — John 3:14–15

There is hope beyond defeat, life beyond the ashes. Like the Phoenix, we can rise—not through our own power alone, but by surrendering to something greater.

With love in recovery, steve

Beauty for Ashes: Isaiah's Message for Recovery and Renewal

Dear Reader,

In the heart of scripture lies a book both ancient and eternally new—the Book of Isaiah. For those on a path of healing, whether through recovery, spiritual renewal, or personal transformation, Isaiah reads like a roadmap written in the ink of grace and struggle.

Though rooted in the story of a wounded nation, Isaiah's message reaches into our personal stories, whispering that no matter how deep the brokenness, hope is deeper still.

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🔹 Broken but Not Abandoned

Isaiah begins not with comfort, but with confrontation. He speaks of a people lost in rebellion and spiritual sickness:

“The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint... but they have not been closed, neither bound up...” – Isaiah 1:5–6

This feels familiar. In recovery, we often admit that we've hit bottom—that we've been spiritually sick and emotionally numb. Yet Isaiah doesn’t leave us there.

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🔹 “Come, Let Us Reason Together…”

Then comes one of the Bible’s most tender invitations:

“Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” – Isaiah 1:18

Isaiah assures us that God doesn’t recoil from our mess—He runs toward it with mercy. Like Step 5 in recovery, when we admit our wrongs to God and another human being, this verse affirms: healing begins with honesty and divine grace.

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🔹 The Servant Who Knows Our Pain

In Isaiah 53, we meet the Suffering Servant—pierced, crushed, and burdened. Not for his own sin, but for ours.

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows...”
“With his stripes we are healed.”

This passage is a lifeline to all who carry shame, loss, or guilt. Christ bore it—not to condemn us, but to heal us. This is not theological theory; it’s the lived reality of recovery: pain shared becomes pain redeemed.

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🔹 A New Name, A New Life

Isaiah’s prophecies move from judgment to joy:

“To give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness...” – Isaiah 61:3
“You shall be called by a new name...” – Isaiah 62:2

These aren’t just poetic promises. They are the spiritual awakening of Step 12—when the ashes of addiction are traded for a life of service, purpose, and peace.

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🔹 The Future Springs Forth

Finally, Isaiah reminds us that God is not confined to our past:

“Behold, I will do a new thing... shall ye not know it?” – Isaiah 43:19

Recovery, faith, forgiveness—they all point forward. Your story is still being written. And it is beautiful.

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💬 Closing Thought

Whether you’re sitting in a church pew or a 12-step meeting, Isaiah offers this eternal truth:

“Fear not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” – Isaiah 43:1

Let those words root deep. You are not defined by what broke you, but by the One who is healing you.

Grace and peace,
– Gimage.net

A Path Toward Spiritual Awakening

 

Dear reader,

Over the past few days, I’ve found myself reflecting deeply on the 12th Step of Alcoholics Anonymous:

“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.”

What does it mean—for me—to have a spiritual awakening?

In this prayerful line of reflection, I came across a powerful address by President Russell M. Nelson of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, titled “Choices for Eternity.” It’s a beautiful message—well worth reading in full—but one part in particular stood out: a framework he offered for spiritual clarity and purpose.

President Nelson outlines three eternal truths for spiritual beings like you and me:

1. Know the truth about who you are.

2. Know the truth about what Heavenly Father and His Son have offered you.

3. Know the truth related to your own conversion.

These truths gave me new language to understand what a spiritual awakening looks like in practice:

• I must strive to live as a beloved child of a loving God.

• I must trust that Jehovah's work in creation “was good.”

• I must express my conversion not only in belief but in action—by carrying the message of healing and hope.

Of course, none of us lives these ideals perfectly. As Vince Lombardi reminds us:

“Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence.”

Albert Einstein echoed something similar in spirit:

“The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.”

The key, then, is to keep choosing the path of faith, kindness, and love—one day at a time. As Robert Frost wrote:

“Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

Many paths in life may seem exciting or worthy. Interests come and go. But not all roads are created equal. When any path replaces your deepest spiritual identity—your relationship with God and your commitment to live in His love—the result can be suffocating, even dangerous. For me, it can mean spiritual drift and relapse.

So I return, once again, to what I wrote exactly one year ago:

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June 16, 2024 — Be the Difference

“The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.”
— Bob Marley

“The chief difference between words and deeds is that words are always intended for men for their approbation, but deeds can be done only for God.”
— Leo Tolstoy

“To desire and expect nothing for oneself and to have profound sympathy for others is genuine holiness.”
— Ivan Turgenev

“To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”
— 1 Corinthians 12:7

“And now, as the preaching of the word had a great tendency to lead the people to do that which was just… Alma thought it was expedient that they should try the virtue of the word of God.”
— Alma 31:5

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Amen.
Let us walk this path together, in truth and love—carrying the message forward, not perfectly, but faithfully.

The State of Man and God's Plan of Salvation

Reflections on Blaise Pascal, Addiction, and the Divine Path

Dear reader,

Today I was listening to a BYU devotional talk by Elder Brian K. Taylor of the Seventy (March 19, 2024). Within it, he quoted Blaise Pascal’s Pensées, a passage that struck me deeply:

“When I see the blind and wretched state of men, when I survey the whole universe in its deadness, and man left to himself with no light... I am moved to terror, like a man transported in his sleep to some terrifying desert island... Then I marvel that so wretched a state does not drive people to despair.”

Pascal's insight still echoes across the centuries. Without divine purpose, the universe becomes a place of dread and despair. For those of us who have lived through the chaos of addiction, we recognize the truth in this terror. The absence of God, light, and meaning leaves a soul fractured—an experience AA calls “incomprehensible demoralization.”

But there is another way.

Pascal wrote to prepare a defense of Christian faith. We, too, are not left without light. The Plan of Salvation reveals our divine identity: we are not cosmic accidents—we are spirit children of a loving Heavenly Father. His work and glory are to bring us home to Him. The way is made possible through His Son, Jesus Christ, who offers not only comfort but power to overcome.

This truth is echoed in recovery:

“We are not cured of alcoholism. What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.”
— AA Big Book

And in scripture:

“Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10
“Come unto Christ, and be perfected in him.” — Moroni 10:32
“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

Philosophers and prophets alike affirm this journey inward and upward.

“He who conquers himself is the mightiest warrior.” — Confucius
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” — Rumi
“Divine Love always has met and always will meet every human need.” — Mary Baker Eddy
“The future is as bright as your faith.” — President Thomas S. Monson

Conclusion

Though man, left to himself, may be lost in darkness, God has not left us alone. His Spirit is available to all who seek it. Our wounds become openings for light. Our trials can turn into blessings when we lean on the “sustaining infinite.” Whether you come from recovery, from doubt, or from a place of searching—know this: there is a plan. There is a Savior. And there is a path forward.

“Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead.”
— Elder Jeffrey R. Holland