It's ShowtimeIsolated in a small Alaskan town, a woman gets out of self and into action.
Something obviously needed to be done in my 18th month of recovery. I prayed for
God to take my will and my life, as he had done early in my sobriety, but my alcoholism
was creeping back into my life, demanding to reassert its central place. As my physical and
fiscal health returned, I felt my initial elation and freedom slowly turning
to a vague dissatisfaction, a mounting sense of "not enough." enough what?
I asked myself, stymied.
My feelings were hurt more frequently, small things began to increasingly irritate me, and
the quiet moments I used to relish were becoming (dare I say it?) boring. The spiritual
intoxication I had felt while placing my entire faith in taking the Steps was
waning. I realized that as the terror of facing myself and my wrongs subsided and as my
amends were made and accepted, so had my urgency to leave things in God's hands.
My alcoholism was now counseling me to whip my finances into further shape to make up for lost time,
or to finish the book that my drinking had abruptly halted five years ago,
or, better yet, to cling to my partner and feed off his 20 years of recovery.
I tried to resist by will power and praying for the strength to thwart my
ancient compulsions, petitioning God for balance in my life, but I was clearly
failing. Fearful that I would succumb entirely to my old demons, I continued
to read the Big Book with my sponsor.
One night while we were reading "The Family Afterward," I felt the solution might lie there.
I marked with a star certain lines that jumped out at me. Back home, my partner asked me
what I'd gotten out of the reading. I turned to the starred paragraphs and
told him, hesitantly, that after months of living in our apartment and rarely
going out, I was getting restless. I knew that diving into meaningless
activity would only feed my old obsession. I told him I'd like to allow God
to replace my spiritual make-believe world with one in which I worked with a great sense of purpose.
I had already commenced work with other alcoholics and much more of God had been revealed, increasing my understanding of him. But the small town we lived in held few work options that appealed to me. My
partner had encouraged me to teach reading to the teenagers at the group home where he worked. Others had
asked me to work at the community center with young adults and children, and there were other leads.
I had always wanted to work with teens. I thought this might be an avenue.
The next day after my morning meditation, I received a call. The teens at the group home were organizing
a talent show, and they asked me to judge. It felt like a sign and, despite the busy holiday season, I
accepted with an open mind and a willing heart. I opened the Big Book again and another starred entry made
me smile. "We have found nothing incompatible between a powerful spiritual experience and a life of sane and
happy usefulness ... So we think cheerfulness and laughter make for usefulness ... We have recovered, and have
been given the power to help others."
The teens sang with their hearts and danced with inspiration. Family members in attendance applauded
with appreciation at the talent on display. So I thought of something positive to say for each contestant. After
the last note, the teens mingled with the audience. We announced the winners, to loud applause. Then I waded
forth among the teens and praised the performances of as many as I could. They flushed with success and pride.
And I felt uplifted.
I do not yet know God's design for my work. nor need I, until he guides me to it. All I need to do
is pray that I do my part each day. In this way, each day I turn my ongoing spiritual
experience into a sane and happy usefulness among my fellow travelers.
Marie S.
Nome, Alaska
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