We are not special.

Sometimes we alcoholics think we have the market on human misery cornered, that somehow when it comes to suffering we suffer more than the normal people. We are wrong. To some degree all humans are guilty of tending toward selfishness and self centeredness rather than being concern with the well being of others. We all tend to be afraid or angry when we worry that something we have is going to be taken from us or we are going to be deprived of something we desire. At any moment, anyone of us could devour a carton of ice cream or buy more pairs of shoes than we can wear in a month. Or we could develop obsessions over things as crazy as tea cozies or McDonald’s Happy Meal toys. I am reminded of the commonalities we share frequently by my wife when I try to separate myself from other humans by proclaiming that I am somehow entitled to be treated differently just because I am an alcoholic. I also see it all around me in whenever I listen to stories of people who struggle to live a good live when it is so easy to fall away. The stories of hurt and pain are told by alcoholics and non-alcoholics alike.

I recently read an absolutely beautiful story that began with harms done to each other by members of family and ending with sweet and moving description of lives redeemed when a woman reconciled with her former mother in law. The details of the story are not important except point out what was not in the story. There was no mention of alcoholism, of AA, sponsors or doing step work. Instead there was only a full description of truth the whenever relationships remain broken, both parties will continue to suffer until reconciliation occurs and the healing grace of God can enter into damaged hearts and make lives new again. If you want to read the story, pick up a copy of the book “Chicken Soup for the Soul” and read it again for that is where the story originated. We hear these stories day after day in virtually every AA meeting that takes place in every corner of the world but the point is that we also find the examples of importance of making amends everywhere. The sad truth is that we are all damaged in some way and to some degree because we had to make the transition away from being helpless infants for whom happiness is defined as the soft touch of a mother, a full belly and the ability to asleep without worrying about how the US soccer team will fare in the match against England. Instead we have to grow up and learn to redefine happiness in order to understand that which we seek that we might know it if we should find it.

What separates us is what is at stake for us. If the lady in the story had not found a way to make amends and reconcile with her mother in law, she would have likely continued to be miserable but she probably not die from the hurt. For alcoholics, that unrepaired relationship would probably result in us turning to drink and for us, to drink is to die. I have come to believe if we simply took the word alcohol out of first step that virtually everyone could benefit from working a 12 step program. Somewhere along the line we all have to learn the happiness is not something that we can find, it is not gift that can be given to us by others. No one can take it away from us. Here is the truth I have finally come to understand: we become happy by simply deciding to live our lives in accordance with God’s will for us.

There are many characteristics that separate alcoholics from non-alcoholics but there is one reality that we hold in common: God loves each and every one of us without limit and He wants us to find happiness in embracing that love. At the end of the day, God’s love for us is the only fact that matters for any of us. It is his love for us that caused Him to send forth the holy spirit to give us the grace and strength we need love, forgive, grow and seek to be one with Him but not only in this world and in the next. So it turns out that we are special after all. We are not, however, unique. God’s abiding love is universal.

Finding Dawn

St. Gregory wrote that dawn is place not a time; it is neither fully night nor fully day. Dawn is the place where we live in this world when we seek to live in the light of God’s love. When we turn toward God, the darkness of night is behind us. Dawn is not just a place; it is a journey from the darkness in into the light. How wonderful it would be if our journey from night was without obstacles, that we would never hit bumps or holes that frustrate our progress forward. We would love to avoid slippery slopes that we can’t climb and leave us angry and exhausted. We do hit bumps. We do struggle to forgive others for slights real or imagined. We lose sight of God’s expectation that measure of self worth is not based i[pm how we feel about ourselves but about we make others feel about themselves. Sometimes the best we can do is to keep our back to the darkness and face the light until we find strength and courage to rise up and move forward again. Other times the light reflected off us from the coming day will guide others towards God’s presence. I find immense comfort in knowing that we are all in place where the promised day is at hand and that together we can all share the beautiful colors that fill the skies in this place of dawn.

Today I had the good fortune to take Holy Communion to group of lovely people each of whom reminded me of my grandparents, not perhaps in how they looked, or talked or acted but certainly in a more important way, they each radiated love and warmth beyond what I have felt for many years. These beautiful people are much further into the light of day then I am at this stage of my journey. One or two of them are clearly nearing the end of their life on earth but I could detect the anger or sadness that one might expect to encounter as life on earth draws to a close. Instead I felt only gratitude, appreciation and a practiced faith that comes from years of devotion to the Lord.

This time I was there only to watch and to learn. Georgianne, the leader of the service, is also a resident there. She confidently and brightly read the prayers and intercessions with grace and dignity. In a flash of foresight, I knew the moment we joined in prayer that I am finally beginning to discern God’s will for me. When the service ended, I went up to each person and shared the peace of the Lord with them and from each of them came an offer thanks that was both intensely authentic but also incredibly understated. I could barely speak with being overcome with emotion. I had previously felt that this kind of ministry was my calling. I now know it. What remains now is for me to not get ahead of myself; I must continue to rely on the spiritual and practical guidance of Monsignor O’Neill and others. I have much to learn and I need to grow much more in spiritual strength and insight before I can fully commit to lay ministry in service of our Holy Church and the Lord. I have, however, seen my future and I welcome it.

Later on, after the rush of emotion faded, I felt frightened, uncertain and even somewhat of a fraud. I am not far enough along on my journey through the place called dawn to feel absolutely certain I am yet worthy to take on the role of lay ministry. Behind and beyond all that I was feeling was an element of surprise. The direction my life is taking is so different than what I expected even 2 years ago that I can scarcely believe what is happening. The reality of the calling that remains in my mind when I am at rest is settling in hard against the way I used to be and I am not fully at peace with the changes. I worry that I do not yet have the solid base I need to be a source of help for others. The truth is, however, that I know that I am where I am supposed to be, surrounded by the people who are meant to be with me and share my journey and, more importantly, for me to join in their journey.

The days when I sat in the darkness and cursed the light are fading into the distance of the place we call the past. Today I chose to serve the Lord and to live in His dawn of many colors as we join hands in prayer and await the coming of His new day.

Dear Lord, thy will, not mine, be done.

Peace be with you.