I have a recovery buddy who recently adopted a dog. Having been without a dog for several months, he was so excited when he was finally able to bring “Leroy Brown” home with him. That excitement was quickly joined by frustration. The first time he clipped Leroy into his harness, attached the leash, laced up his tennis shoes, and started out the door for a walk, his new companion transformed from a beagle/basset hound mix – perfectly able to walk on its own – to a 35-pound sack of dirt: he would not cross the threshold. After fervent and passionate coaxing – and a fair share of bribery with treats – the dead weight crossed the threshold.
That was only the beginning of the struggles for my recovery partner and his hairy companion. A half mile later, the transfiguration happened again – Leroy laid down in the middle of the street and would not move. This time, no amount of pleading would convince Leroy to cooperate. So, having expended most of his patience at the door frame, and since the scene was blocking the oncoming traffic, my friend was left with no choice but to carry Leroy. As you can imagine, carrying 35 pounds of dog-shaped dead weight for any distance is challenging … half a mile is just impossible. After about 50 yards, arms burning under the strain, my recovery partner put the dog down and tried to continue the walk. Leroy was not interested. He tried to push from behind – this caused his pup to do a handstand. A peaceful walk – a time for exercise, prayer, and reflection – was now anything but.
Hearing this story reminded me of the poem “Footsteps.” My Higher Power is always with me – He always has been. Sometimes, this is very apparent to me. I can see Him working in my life when I receive a phone call just at the very time when I’m beginning to feel resentment, or when I relate to another member’s share, or when a prayer is answered. He and I are together, walking the road of recovery. Sometimes, however, my addict brain looks around and doesn’t see another set of footprints. I get scared, resentful, irritable, and discontented. Why has my Higher Power left me? Does He not love me? Recovery has taught me that the footprints aren’t my own. My Higher Power is carrying me. Sometimes I even see long lines in the sand – those are caused by my addict digging his heels in and laying down in the road. My Higher Power is dragging me.
Recovery has shown me that when I see only one set of footprints, I shouldn’t assume they’re mine. I have a choice to walk side by side with my Higher Power, surrendering lust and character defects as we trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. I don’t have to be a sack of dirt.
Matthew P., Georgia, USA
