A Story of Recovery:

“Dialing” My Higher Power

Of all the tools of the program, making phone calls is the hardest for me. I am virtually phone phobic. Email works fine for me to get in touch with my grown children, but I don’t even do well talking on the phone with them. They forgive me for that. Only once before did I phone before taking a bite…until this week.

I have been in Program for two years and have been abstinent for more than 21 months. I came into FA an atheist—a devoted, committed, lifelong atheist. I had been an atheist for 50 of my 84 years. That has been changing in my life, especially through my 16 months in an AWOL(A Way of Life, a study of the Twelve Steps), where I have been studying the Twelve Steps. It has been hard for me to give up my “faith” after all those years of comfort in it. But I have moved from absolutely knowing that there is nothing, to not knowing, and I am comfortable in not knowing.

I’m not at ease with the words “God” and “He” and “Him,” but I am getting comfortable with the term “higher power” as I define that. (And I know that I am not alone in this Program with this uncertainty about higher power.)

I don’t exactly “pray,” but I have a dialog with a higher power. It goes something like this: “Hey, you there—if you are there—and whatever you are. I’m having a sort of hard time here, and I wonder if you can spare some time and energy to send me some support to figure out what to do.” These days, I often say, “Let go and let God.” That helps me when I am anxious about something.

I sometimes join the choir at my church for special events. I belong to a semi-professional singing group most of the year, so only occasionally sing with my church choir, and I suppose it surprises some of you that an atheist is a member of a church, but that’s another story for another time.

At a recent rehearsal, the choir members were celebrating the end of the church year. There was coffee and four dozen of a flour and sugar product. (I used to be able to consume a dozen of these on my own.) The rehearsal itself was bedlam-like because of the party atmosphere, with talking, giggling, and inattention to the choir director. All of this was upsetting me, because I wanted us to learn the music and do a good performance at the church service, and because that flour and sugar product used to be one of my binge foods.

On my way home, afterwards, I had to pass a long line of fast food places. I wanted what they had, but wanted my abstinence, too.Okay, higher power, help me get through this.” I kept saying over and over, “Let go and let God.” I looked to the opposite side of the road as I passed each alluring “den of temptation” and laughed at myself for my actions. But I got past them and got home, still abstinent. My resentment at the choir had dissipated.

And as I got into bed, I addressed this higher power (the existence of which I am uncertain), and said, “Thanks for giving me a hand.” As I expressed this gratitude, I felt a chill go down over me. And I thought, Something’s going on here.