An Artifact of Faith

It was the third day of my vacation, and I was feeling very uncomfortable. I had volunteered to work on an archeological dig on the Missouri River--a big jump for me in recovery. It was a new situation with new people, doing something I'd always wanted to do but never had the nerve or the opportunity to try. It had been one of the many "if only" situations I had bemoaned during my drinking years. One of the many "I wish I could, but. . ." phrases that held me prisoner in my disease.