Like many of us who reluctantly come to a 12-Step recovery program, I brought a lot of baggage with me, including my opinions about organized religion. Not surprisingly, I saw the 12 Steps listed on a poster at the front of the room at meetings and the word “God” quickly jumped out at me as a major obstacle to my sobriety.
 
However, there are as many descriptions of "Higher Power" as there are people in a meeting. My job in the beginning was to keep an open mind and listen for the similarities instead of the differences. Eventually, I would find a God of my own understanding. Until then, I was told, just know that "there is one and it's not you."

As I began to work the Steps with a sponsor, he was helpful in suggesting a perspective I had never considered. “Did you ever stop at the liquor store after work and buy a bottle and throw it into the glove compartment for afterwards, when you got home?” Of course, I replied.

“And how did that feel?” he asked. “Great, right? And you didn’t even have a sip of it yet.” His eyes gleamed. “Because you knew from past experience that the booze would make you feel better. You knew it was going to work.”
 
I agreed with him. Of course, I knew it would work! “That, my friend, is faith!” he concluded confidently. “You knew it was going to work. Imagine that,” he said thoughtfully. “Turns out, you’ve always had faith – just in the wrong thing.”
 
It made perfect sense to me. But of course, at that point, I’d been sober a little while and had started working the Steps. In the very beginning, though, I needed a lot of help. Fortunately, my home group was a “beginner’s meeting” and they knew just what to say.
 
I remember going up to Bill L., a longtime member of my home group, after the meeting and sharing my misgivings with him. I wasn’t sure my faith in God was strong enough to keep me sober. Twelve years of Catholic school had soured me on religion, I confided. “Not to mention all the hypocrisy I see at church,” I added, rolling my eyes. Of course, I hadn’t even been inside a church for many years.
 
Fortunately, Bill wasn’t as judgmental as I was. He just smiled and looked me in the eye.
“Well, I don’t know much about theology and so on,” he began. “But I’ve been around here for quite a while now. And my heart seems to always beat exactly when it’s supposed to – and I’m not in charge of that; there’s a Power greater than me that does that for me.”
 
As I considered this, he continued. “And I seem to breathe in and out at all the right times – and I don’t have to keep track of that either,” he said. “A Higher Power makes sure I keep breathing. In fact, the only time I lose my breath is when I hold it – or even think about it too much.”
 
I laughed, realizing that I was now very aware of my breath and no longer breathing naturally.

“In fact,” he said, wrapping up his explanation, “If I were to cut myself tomorrow morning while shaving, that cut would eventually be healed, too – and I’m not in charge of that either. My only job is to keep dirt out of the wound – or anything else that gets in the way of my healing.”

Bill reached up and put his hand on my shoulder. “I figure any Power that can beat my heart and breathe my lungs and heal my wounds…” he paused. “That Power can probably heal any other wounds I have – mental, emotional or spiritual – if only I’m willing to give my permission and allow it. And that, my friend, is how it keeps me sober.”

Bill’s description of his Higher Power was so simple and profound, I couldn’t find anything to disagree with. Instead, I thanked Bill and decided to keep coming back.

And eventually – by working the Steps and doing the necessary footwork – I was able to discover the same healing Higher Power that Bill had described so well for me.