An Ordinary Miracle

I had always thought my Step 9 would be pretty tame. However, there were three or four moments that struck me with the urge to run away from life as I knew it and never look back. One of these was the day I made amends to my mother. My wife was out of town, and mom invited me to do a BBQ with her at a local park. I had been waiting for a few weeks for the opportunity to present itself, and there it was. I agreed.

Opportunities to work over the summer and to make amends had presented themselves, but I felt just as powerless over my laziness and fear as I did over lust. A great deal of insecurity surrounded the topic of work for me. Our BBQ didn’t get off to a good start. “How are you?” she asked. “I’m alright.” “How’s work going?” “Not great.” “… Then what have you been doing with your time?!”

A reasonable question, for a normal person, but in the heat of the moment I chose anger. All of my insecurity about my work ethic, manhood, and dependability came screaming out of the angry hole in my heart, blaming everything and everyone else for my flaws. “She doesn’t understand, she doesn’t even try!” “Just because she needs work to feel productive doesn’t mean I do.” “Why is it always about work with her?”

Immediately I shut down, giving some vague comments, changing the subject and asking if we had everything for dinner. She didn’t have anything to start the fire with. Another wave of resentment crashed over me, and I stomped back to my apartment.

Once alone, my thoughts turned to the amends I was planning to make. Dread filled me up, along with the realization that I simply couldn’t do it. There was no way I could force out the words “I was wrong” while this hurricane of rage swirled inside me.

“God, if I’m going to do this, I need You. Make this happen, because I can’t,” I prayed.

The storm slowed a bit, enough for me to get back into the car and remain cordial. But as we continued to talk it seemed that I couldn’t keep my resentment at bay. Every comment, movement, or glance she made threw me right back into chaos. I found myself so worked up I could barely speak. If I were to open my mouth, who knows what would come out?

We exited the car at the park, gathered our things, and proceeded to look for a place to make dinner. I noticed that there were quite a few other parties enjoying the area as well, and in my desperate need to escape the scrutiny of total strangers I turned down a dirt trail that seemed safe and solitary. To my utter horror, the path opened up to a large group, positioned in a half-circle facing us. As soon as we popped through the opening, it seemed all eyes settled on me. I muttered obscenities under my breath, fixing my gaze downwards, realizing that I was leading my mother and her crazy dog right through the group as well. Humiliation quickened my pace and I settled in the only site I could find that was not in direct view of anyone else in the park. My resentment now seemed to blanket everything within a two-hundred-yard radius.

At this point the only thing I felt capable of thinking about was the task of making dinner. Unwilling to laugh at myself, or to let any of the evening’s emotions go, I forged ahead determined to demonstrate I was at least capable of something. Fortunately, building the fire went smoothly, and I didn’t burn the food.

Despite this meager success, my lips remained sealed shut. Every time the dog barked at someone or Mom tried to make small talk I wanted to retreat further into myself, I simply couldn’t make words come out!

My mom broke the ice. “It seems like you have been angry with me for a long time. What’s that about?” I squirmed, but God gave me the strength to start talking. I shared how I had felt for the last few months. And, unexpectedly, I found myself making amends for the way I have treated her this year. “I was wrong to treat you that way and I ask your forgiveness.” I then moved on to the direct amends on my agenda. “I was also wrong to not pay you back… and I ask for your forgiveness. I’d like to pay you back for that.”

I didn’t realize it at the time. Looking back I can see how my resentment seemed to melt away when I said the words. We spent the rest of the evening actually talking. I even laughed. I still felt very uncomfortable, but God helped me through those negative feelings. Despite a pretty lackluster effort, God saved me from my resentment. It was one of the first genuinely positive experiences I have had with my mom in years.

I have not felt the same rage-resentment storm towards my mom since then. Excited about this inhuman and earth-shattering miracle, I called my sponsor. Describing the “HUGE” miracle that God worked in my life that day, he stopped me short. “You’re wrong.” “…what?” I responded, taken aback.

“It wasn’t a huge miracle, it was an ordinary one. You’ll continue to experience more as you continue working the Steps.” “Oh.” I replied.

Thank God for ordinary miracles, which teach me today that my Higher Power is One that saves me in my moments of lust, resentment, fear and self-pity. Only that Power is capable of keeping me sober and serene.

Spencer S., Utah, USA

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