My sponsor once suggested that I look up Twelve Step words in a dictionary. That request unleashed my interest in recovery-related words and led me to create several drawings illustrating the Twelve Steps.

A few years ago, I found a 1934 Webster’s Dictionary in a used book store. I knew from AA history that 1934 was the year that Bill W. got sober. Curious, I opened the old dictionary to a word I was having trouble understanding at the time: “God.” Webster’s 1934 definition of “God” was “a being of more than human attributes or powers.” It struck me that these words were so similar to Bill W.’s phrase “a power higher than human power.”

Curious, I looked up some other words from the Steps. In every case, the very first definition of each word seemed to reinforce Bill’s writing, while also adding fresh insight into those familiar words. Reading the definitions gave me a more lively connection with the Steps. Take the word “remove” as found in Step Seven: “We humbly asked God to remove our shortcomings.” Before checking the 1934 dictionary, I believed that “remove” simply meant to “make it disappear.” When I worked Step Seven, I fully expected the God of my understanding to make my dishonesty, fear, selfishness, and inconsideration disappear. The trouble was that my defects kept creeping back in. A few instances of this led me to doubt God’s ability to remove, say, my dishonesty. I was a little resentful that God wasn’t meeting my expectations. If He could make my defects completely disappear, why didn’t He?

I turned to the dictionary and found this definition: “Remove: To change or shift the location, position, station, or residence of.” The dictionary didn’t say anything about making my defects disappear; it just said, “shift the position.” This definition hit me hard. Viewed in this light, the Seventh Step tells me my defects will always remain nearby, just in case I get the insane urge to invite them back in. This new information forced me to let go of my old—and utterly illogical—assumption that God wanted to make me “perfect” like Him. Thanks to that old dictionary, I found a new appreciation for Step Seven.

This and other examples of 1934 definitions redoubled my interest in the Steps. What could I do with my enthusiasm? If I went to my local meeting and urged everyone to start reading musty old dictionaries, they would label me as insane. If I typed up the definitions and handed them out, very few would ever get read.

Then it occurred to me: I am an illustrator, so I turned to my sketch pad. I reflected on the newly discovered definition of “Remove” and began scribbling ideas. I’d never heard of anyone turning a personal meditation into a drawing before, so I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I felt a little foolish at first, but I prayed for serenity and courage as I worked.

I asked myself, “What’s something that we remove but never stays removed?” Finally, an image began to emerge. I remembered my grandparents’ 1930s bathtub. When the rubber drain stopper was removed, it would float aimlessly around in the bathwater for a time. If left to drift, the plug would follow invisible currents in the water and eventually make its way back onto the drain hole. The round plug might block the hole completely, or else turn sideways and seriously slow the water down.

As quirky as the memory seemed, I had to admit that it fit the definition perfectly. When God removes a defect from me, the defect never goes away completely. Sometimes it drifts harmlessly around, and at other times it returns to either partially or completely block me off from God. I busied myself at the drawing table and soon had a finished drawing. It was an enormous rubber bathtub drain plug. “People will think I am absolutely insane,” I thought. I gingerly showed it to someone, then another, then another. The reaction was always the same, “Can I have a copy?” I should mention that it is rare for anyone to say that about my non-recovery drawings; someone might say, “Oh that’s nice” and hand the art back to me. These recovery drawings affected all kinds of people, both in and out of the program. I don’t try to understand it. The drawings are the result of prayer and meditation, so I suppose it wouldn’t do much good to try to explain them.

All I know is, I no longer harbor the notion that God as I understand Him seeks to make me perfect. All I am expected to do is make daily progress. If I want my defects cleared away in the next 24 hours, all I must do is ask Him to remove them now.