In the book, It’s Not About Me, Max Lucado writes, “To say ‘It’s not about you’ is not to say you aren’t loved; quite the contrary. It’s because God loves you that it’s not about you.” When I read that last night before bed, it struck me that it is for my good that I am not seated on God’s throne. It is much too big a seat for me.

Voices of Recovery’s entry today was from page 57 of the OA 12&12, “Every character defect we have today has been useful to us at some point in our lives, and we need to recognize that fact.” I have often said that I am also recovering from “chronic assholism.” I guess that is rooted in fear of losing what I have or not getting what I want. But if what I really want is acceptance, appreciation, and love, the behaviors and attitudes that could be classified by my homemade vernacular don’t seem very fruitful. Instead they seem to be counterproductive, leading to isolation and lonely despair. Still, I suppose alienation, when first applied, did serve to disconnect from whatever source of pain ‘little TL’ was experiencing. It calls for introspection.

Proverbs 7:1 says to me, “My son, keep my words and store up my commands within you.” This verse struck me today. In the context of food, everything I eat remains only a little while before passing through. In contrast, the spiritual food that nurtures me I can keep, store up, and recall on demand, and the Spirit can remind me of just what I need when I need it. My Higher Power once said, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’.” (Matthew 4:4; also Deuteronomy 8:3) I will eat what the Lord gives me to eat. Like Ezekiel, who ate the scroll of the word of God (Ezekiel 3:1-4), I rely on God to give me the spiritual nourishment. “For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.” (1 Timothy 4:8)

In an email I got this morning, I ran across the name of my child guidance counselor. I reached out to him in hopes it was the same guy. After waiting most of the day, I got a message from him indicating it was and that he remembered me. In my excitement, I called my mother to let her know of the ironic circumstances. She went on and on about how many issues I had when I was a kid and how messed up I was, and how much help he was to my parents because of my multiple issues. She had even encouraged me to find him “for the kids’ sake.” She refused to tell me what she meant by that, and her comments and lack thereof brought me some anxious thoughts and feelings. The twisted part of me wonders what was so wrong with me that even my mother won’t talk about. The rational part of me already knows I have forever been a sick human being, and only now am realizing the extent to which that has been true in so many ways.

I got to attend a meeting tonight with my core group of guys, and then attended a phone meeting of “100 pounders” (those that need to lose or have lost 100 pounds or more) tonight. I must say that the four or five phone meetings I have attended recently have nicely supplemented my recovery.

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