A Story of Recovery:

A Cup of Recovery

I recall the first time I heard it, “Every surrender brings you closer to God.” Those were the words I heard over the phone as I reached out to a fellow FA member, complaining to her about my struggle with my morning caffeine drink. She was a woman I didn’t even know, someone my sponsor suggested I call because she had long-term abstinence. Her words seemed empty at the time. Yeah, sure, closer to God, I thought. It was bad enough that I had already surrendered one thing I liked to put into my drink. Then my sponsor suggested that I just drink it black. I was feeling sorry for myself for having to make yet another sacrifice.

Poor old me. I had given up so much. But this was my morning ritual, my family’s social lubricant. My parents very rarely drank alcohol; it was the cup of caffeine that flowed through our veins. We would drink it after dinner and when people came over to visit in the evening. There was so much joy and love associated with that drink.

Later, when I joined an AWOL, I complained again to folks, and I heard those words again from long-term FA member, “Every surrender brings you closer to God.” This time I remember thinking to myself, For crying out loud, if every surrender brings me closer to God, then by now God should be right here standing next to me, glued to my side!

So how do you think I reacted when my sponsor suggested that I just surrender the drink altogether? Try to imagine a baby’s horrified look when you pluck a pacifier out of its mouth. That’s the image that came to mind. I remember thinking, What am I going to become, a Tibetan monk? Do I have to buy a robe and a get a piece of rope to use for a belt? Then there were those words again, “Every surrender brings you closer to God.” She suggested that giving up the little things would help me with the larger issues in my life.

At that point I gave serious thought to leaving the program. I spent my quiet time reflecting on whether or not I would make this new surrender. For a moment I thought about the prospect of having as many caffeinated drinks as I damned well please. And then I could have a flavor in it again. And why not also have a couple of sweet treats to go with it. And suddenly, there it was, my disease was staring me in the face. I quickly saw myself back in the grip of the demon that had stolen so many good years of my life. Did I really want to throw all of my recovery away?

I reflected upon where I was when I first started FA and how much better I have been since joining. I was over 100 pounds lighter, not struggling with any health issues. I was in a new job, thanks to having the courage to change—something I gained from this program. My house and finances were in order. I had loving relationships with my family and friends and was attending family and friend get-togethers without shame and guilt. I was active again, going on bike rides, learning how to play the bass guitar, and looking forward to each day. I liked myself, and almost every facet of my life was better.

It was an easy decision. I got up from my quiet time and stepped outside to my front yard on a brisk morning, looked up at the Orion constellation painted upon a cloudless, early morning sky, took in a long deep breath, and then exhaled a vapor of surrender that disappeared into the cool morning air. And I noticed something. God was right there; standing right there next to me.