A brief history of me and “Higher Powers”: I grew up in a religious household. As a teenager I embraced the born-again world of the Southern Baptist Church. I was such a true believer that I went door to door, “witnessing” about the miracle of God’s love to strangers. After a series of disappointments by powerful male figures in my church and in my family, I rejected religion. In my twenties, I sought rational sources of support and personal growth such as cognitive-behavioral therapy.
At times, I missed the comfort of believing in God but found I couldn’t muster the faith of my childhood. The cost of belief was too high: I was unwilling to return to hearing fables about how “women are the source of evil in the world” and “we are born sinful.” It didn’t line up with how I experienced the world, and I had a sneaking suspicion religion might be a tool used primarily to control women. Nonetheless, I missed the rituals and the community.
As I got older, I continued to contradict myself: I married an atheist but insisted we have the ceremony in a traditional church with stained glass windows for miles. I have raised my children without faith, but when they ask what happens after we die, I suggest there might be a heaven where we’re reunited with our loved ones. Other than ceremonial milestones, I didn’t expect I would have to grapple with religion again.
Then I joined AA. Boy, howdy.
I showed up because I was pretty sure I was an alcoholic (spoiler alert: I am) and I needed help to stop drinking. I got that help… and a big dose of the familiar rituals of the evangelical church. At first, I found it reassuring. Here was a group with answers - the promised salvation of a better life. All I had to do was fall on my metaphorical knees and surrender my will to God.
I couldn’t stomach the entire message, but I didn’t know where else to go. I decided to “keep coming back” and simply attend meetings. I didn’t ask for a sponsor. I knew that if I had a sponsor, I would feel compelled to give her the “right” answers to the questions she asked instead of giving honest answers. Years of attending Sunday School and Youth Group had made me very good at lying to authority figures.
Luckily, I was attending online meetings, and I stumbled across secular AA. The first time I read a secular version of the steps, I felt like I was home. Here was a framework that spoke to my intellect and to my emotions: Yes, life had become unmanageable. Yes, what I was doing was not working any more. Yes, I needed to try something different. Yes, I had habits of mind that did not serve me. Yes, I had found a path to sobriety that was going to work for me.
Yes. Or, to put it in language from long ago:
Amen.