Tuesday, July 22, 2025

“To Forgive Is to Be Free”, A Recovery Message Rooted in Language, Scripture, and Steps 8–12 of AA

Dear Reader,

Yesterday, I found myself in a painful conflict with someone I love deeply. We were both frustrated—he with my position of authority, and I with the responsibility I carry. I own the house he lives in, and in the moment, I asserted that power. He didn’t back down. In fact, he calmly and firmly pointed out how off-base and emotionally reactive I was—immature, even.

His words stung—but they also stopped me.

Right there, I had a choice: I could dig deeper into my anger, or I could take a quiet inventory of my motives, my care for him, and the real cost of pride. I realized I cared more about him than about being right. I saw that we were both wounded, both defensive, both trying.

And I let go.

Forgiveness came—not just of him, but of myself. I dropped the need to win and reached for the relationship. What came next was mutual respect, real conversation, and a compromise that honored us both. That’s when I saw it: this is the power of forgiveness. Not lofty or sentimental—but gritty, immediate, and transformational.

The Word Itself: A Deeper Giving

The English word forgive comes from the Old English forgiefan, which means to give completely—to let go, to release, to no longer demand payment.

At its root is the ancient Proto-Indo-European verb gheb(h)-, meaning “to give or to receive.” So forgiveness, even in language history, has always meant the giving up of a debt or harm. It's not about forgetting what happened—it's about choosing not to hold it hostage anymore.


Forgiveness in Scripture: To Release, To Lift, To Grace

In the Greek New Testament, the word for forgive is often:

  • ἀφίημι (aphiēmi) – “to send away,” “release,” or “let go.”

    In Matthew 6:12, Jesus teaches us to pray, “Forgive us our debts,” showing forgiveness as the act of canceling a spiritual debt.

Another word, χαρίζομαι (charizomai), means “to give grace freely.”

In Ephesians 4:32, we are taught to forgive “even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” This points to a forgiveness rooted not in obligation, but in love.

In the Hebrew Bible, the meaning deepens further:

  • סָלַח (sālach) – “to pardon, to cleanse,” used almost exclusively for God’s acts of forgiveness.

  • נָשָׂא (nāsā’) – “to lift up or carry away,” as in Isaiah 53, where the suffering servant “bears our iniquities.”

Forgiveness in Hebrew tradition is not just emotional relief; it is a holy act that removes guilt and restores peace.


Recovery Application: Forgiveness in Steps 8–12

Step 8: Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all.

Forgiveness begins here—not just seeking it, but preparing to give it. Step 8 calls us to name our wrongs and hold them up to the light, not to shame ourselves, but to free ourselves and others. As we become willing, the spiritual door opens.

“Aphiemi”—we begin to “let go” emotionally, even before we make contact.


Step 9: Made direct amends wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

This is where forgiveness becomes action. We ask for release from others, and often, in doing so, we forgive them as well—for their part in our pain, or for the times they were silent or misunderstood us.

“Charizomai”—we give grace, just as grace has been given to us.


Step 10: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Forgiveness becomes daily. We become less afraid of being wrong. In the example I shared, this was key. I had to admit my own immaturity in that moment—not later, not next week, but now.

“Sālach”—we ask God for cleansing, and we offer ourselves and others space to try again.


Step 11: Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God...

Here we meet the source of real forgiveness. God, who “lifts our burdens” (nāsā’) and washes us clean (sālach), becomes the wellspring of our ability to forgive and be forgiven. The anger begins to leave. We start to want healing more than justice.

In this contact with God, we see the other person as He sees them—and ourselves with grace.


Step 12: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps...

Forgiveness becomes a way of life. We are no longer trapped in cycles of blame. We carry the message not just by speaking—but by how we show up in moments of tension, how we let go, how we give grace.

It is no longer something we do. It is someone we are becoming.


Closing Reflection: The Liberating Power of Letting Go

“To forgive is to release the grip of the past.
In Greek, it is aphiēmi—to send away the debt.
In Hebrew, it is sālach—a sacred act of cleansing.
In recovery, it is a spiritual awakening in real time.”

Forgiveness is not weakness. It is the greatest strength we’re given—the power to disarm anger, to lift burdens, to change the course of a relationship in a single moment of grace.

We forgive because we are forgiven.
We release because we were once released.
We carry the message because someone once carried it to us.

Let’s do the same—today.

Friday, July 18, 2025

From the Mountain to the Valley: Hearing Him in Glory and in Struggle

Dear Reader,

Mark Chapter 9 is one of those sacred moments in scripture that reveals two seemingly different, yet deeply connected, truths about Jesus Christ—and about us.

The chapter opens with a scene of stunning spiritual majesty:

“And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them.”
—Mark 9:3

Here we witness the Transfiguration—Jesus revealed in divine glory, joined by Moses and Elijah, and surrounded by heavenly light. The disciples are awestruck, and then they hear a voice from heaven say:

“This is my beloved Son: hear him.” (v. 7)

It’s a mountaintop moment, quite literally. Christ stands radiant, affirmed by God the Father, wrapped in holiness.

But the chapter doesn’t end there.

Immediately after this divine encounter, Jesus and the disciples descend the mountain—and they return not to peace and praise, but to conflict, suffering, and despair. A distraught father pleads for his son, who is tormented by a violent spirit. The disciples are unable to help. The scene is chaotic and heartbreaking.

“Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

Here, another kind of revelation unfolds—not in light and glory, but in tears and desperation. A father’s fragile faith meets the Savior’s deep compassion. Jesus lifts the boy, rebukes the spirit, and restores peace. When asked why they couldn’t heal him, He gently teaches, “This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting.”


The Sacred Sequence: Glory Then Grace

Why do these two stories appear together? Why go from heavenly heights to earthly hardship in a single chapter?

🌟 1. From the Mountain of Glory to the Valley of Need

The contrast is no accident. The Transfiguration reminds us who Jesus truly is—the Beloved Son of God. The healing of the boy shows us why He came—to enter our suffering, to meet us in our unbelief, and to bring healing where we are most broken.

Christ's glory was not a retreat from the world’s pain but a preparation to serve it.

This sacred order reveals something of our own path as disciples. We may have moments of clarity, beauty, and spiritual light. But we are not called to build tents and stay on the mountain. Like Jesus, we are asked to descend into the valley—where others are crying out for help.

👂 2. “Hear Him”—On the Mountain and in the Valley

When the voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son: hear him,” we often think of it as a call to obedience. But in Mark 9, we see that hearing Jesus also means trusting Him when we’re unsure, when belief trembles under the weight of real-world pain.

The father’s prayer—“Help thou mine unbelief”—is one of the most honest in scripture. And it is enough.

Hearing Him means listening when He teaches, yes. But also when He waits. When He lifts. When He meets us with compassion even as we whisper our incomplete faith.

🙏 3. True Discipleship Lives Between Both Worlds

Peter wanted to stay in the glory. He said, “Let us make three tabernacles.” But Jesus didn’t allow it. Why?

Because discipleship isn't about camping in comfort; it’s about carrying light into darkness. Jesus invites us to see His glory so that we might then serve with His love. We are meant to move from awe to action, from insight to compassion, from revelation to healing.


In Closing

Mark 9 teaches us that both the mountaintop and the valley are sacred. We come to the mountain to see Christ in glory. We go to the valley to walk with Him in love.

And wherever we are on that journey—whether radiant with faith or whispering through our unbelief—He is there. And He still says to each of us:

“Be not afraid. Only believe.”
—Mark 5:36

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

“Behold, Service Was Joy: Discovering Life’s True Reward”



 Dear Reader, 

  I once believed that joy was something to be found—waiting in dreams or granted through good fortune. But life has taught me, through both experience and reflection, that true joy is not something we receive; it’s something we uncover through service, duty, and action. 

  

Rabindranath Tagore’s words echo this truth: 

  

“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. 

I awoke and saw that life was service. 

I acted and behold, service was joy.” 

  

This insight, whether expressed through the word “service” or “duty,” reminds us that joy is not the opposite of responsibility—it is the fruit of meaningful responsibility. 

  

The scriptures support this truth. In the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin teaches: 

  

“When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.” 

(Mosiah 2:17) 

  

And Jesus himself taught: 

  

“He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.” 

(Matthew 23:11) 

  

These verses do not glorify exhaustion or self-neglect. Rather, they invite us to discover a deeper strength: the joy that comes when our hands, hearts, and intentions are united in lifting others. 

  

The Bhagavad Gita offers this parallel wisdom: 

  

“By working without attachment, one attains the Supreme.” 

(3:19) 

  

And in the world of recovery, we are reminded again and again: 

  

“Nothing will so much insure immunity from drinking as intensive work with other alcoholics. It works when other activities fail.” 

(Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 89) 

  

Serving others becomes more than just helpful—it becomes healing. 

  

Leo Tolstoy expressed it plainly: 

  

“The sole meaning of life is to serve humanity.” 

  

And Albert Schweitzer added: 

  

“The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who will have sought and found how to serve.” 

  

Whether from scripture, literature, or the voices of recovery, the message is the same: Joy is not found in watching life from the sidelines. It emerges when we give, lift, love, and serve. 

  

So let us rise each day not just to dream of joy, but to live it—through service, through duty, through love in action. 

  

By God's Grace. Amen