I grew up in a religious home. My father was an ordained minister, and our family observed many religious practices. As much as my father preached the doctrine, he did not live the church principles at home, (at least, that’s how I experienced it). My sexual acting out started at a very young age and included isolation, fantasy, secrets, hiding—a real double life.

After I graduated high school, my family moved to a different state while I stayed back to pursue a college education in science. My isolation and acting out continued and became increasingly out of control. I stepped away from my family’s religion and away from any belief in God. Without consciously deciding to, I became what I thought was an atheist. For me, it wasn’t that God existed and that I was unworthy of his love or his attention or that God existed but was no longer involved in my daily life. [This author chooses to capitalize “God,” but he specifically leaves “power” and he/him/his uncapitalized.] I didn’t question why bad things happened to good or innocent people. I didn’t even resent the religious hypocrisy I had seen. For me, there was simply no compelling evidence of a God-entity that exists in time and space and interacts with his creation.

Years later, when my spouse discovered my acting out and I joined SA, I was as far from any connection to God as ever. Surprisingly, I didn’t have a problem with the “God part” of the Program. As suggested by my sponsor and our literature, I started with my home group as my higher power. Here was a group of people who had solved their sexaholism problem; they were certainly a power greater than me. I had faith in the group and in the SA program. This level of faith was enough for me.

SA taught me to take it easy, and that the hoop I had to jump through was a lot wider than I was expecting. I was glad to hear that SA did not demand that I believe anything, and that the Twelve Steps were “only suggestions.” They told me that I didn’t have to swallow Step Two “right now” and that I could take it piecemeal. I also learned that all I needed was a truly open mind, to resign from the debating society, and to quit bothering myself with deep religious questions (see 12&12, 26). Somehow, I was willing to do these things, though not perfectly, and sure enough, the God part began to very gradually infiltrate my life. To this day, I cannot say on what occasion I came to believe in a power greater than myself, but I certainly have that belief now. I only needed to stop fighting and to start practicing the SA program (i.e., work the Twelve Steps) as enthusiastically as I could.

An exercise my sponsor suggested for Step Two was to take a blank sheet of paper and write down what I wanted my higher power to be like. What? That’s sacrilege! What an order! I ended up answering this question from another Step Two exercise, “What are the requisite qualities of an adequate Higher Power?” To this day, the “requisite qualities” question remains one of the most effective exercises in all of my Step work. It’s had the same impact for many of my sponsees.

At the Sunday morning “God as You Understand Him” meeting at a twice-yearly men’s retreat, we would go around the circle with each man very briefly describing his understanding of God. I would always say, “God is the power that keeps me sober.” That statement has been my clear and complete understanding of God for most of my 26 years of sobriety.

Step Two asks me to find “a Power greater than” myself; it does not require me to find the greatest power in the universe. Another sexaholic and I were having a conversation many years ago about our understanding of God, and I was having a hard time putting a certain thought into words. After a couple of attempts, he suggested, “So, you don’t think God has to know everything or be omniscient”—we were discussing the “omni” attributes—“in order not to make a mistake.” Yes, that’s what I thought! Since then, I’ve also come to believe that God doesn’t have to be everywhere (omnipresent) in order to be present with me, and that God doesn’t have to be all-powerful (or omnipotent) in order to help me stay sober.

Step Three does not require me to work out a total theology, just to have enough understanding to work the rest of the Steps and keep working them.

I don’t believe that God has a plan for my life, but I do believe that there is such a thing as “God’s will for me” and that God’s will for me is even better than my own will for me. As a starting point, I believe (in truth, I know) that God’s will for me is to be sober. That alone informs a lot of what I need to do. I also believe that God’s will for you, my fellow sexaholic, is to be sober, and that also informs a lot of what I need to do. These two beliefs comprise, for me, the bulk of “God’s plan” for my life.

Today, I know beyond doubt that I’m powerless over lust. I believe I always have been, and I always will be. And yet, I still encounter lust every day. So, given my powerlessness to handle lust, what do I do? I surrender. And in my surrender, the power of God becomes effective in me, and I stay sober. I may need to surrender again in two days, two hours, or two minutes, but when I do, God gives me the power—God is the power—to stay sober. It works for me every time. God does for me what I can’t do for myself (i.e., keep myself sober), but God does not do for me what I can do for myself (and that is surrender). 

I do my part, God does God’s part. Quid pro quo.