Recovery Prayer Quotes

Self-care is how you take your power back.

If, by the virtue of charity or the circumstance of desperation, you ever chance to spend a little time around a Substance-recovery halfway facility like Enfield MA's state-funded Ennet House, you will acquire many exotic new facts [...] That certain persons simply will not like you no matter what you do. Then that most nonaddicted adult civilians have already absorbed and accepted this fact, often rather early on [...] That sleeping can be a form of emotional escape and can with sustained effort be abused [...] That purposeful sleep-deprivation can also be an abusable escape. That gambling can be an abusable escape, too, and work, shopping, and shoplifting, and sex, and abstention, and masturbation, and food, and exercise, and meditation/prayer [...] That loneliness is not a function of solitude [...] That if enough people in a silent room are drinking coffee it is possible to make out the sound of steam coming off the coffee. That sometimes human beings have to just sit in one place and, like, hurt [...] That there is such a thing as raw, unalloyed, agendaless kindness [...] That the effects of too many cups of coffee are in no way pleasant or intoxicating [...] That if you do something nice for somebody in secret, anonymously, without letting the person you did it for know it was you or anybody else know what it was you did or in any way or form trying to get credit for it, it's almost its own form of intoxicating buzz. That anonymous generosity, too, can be abused [...] That it is permissible to want [...] That there might not be angels, but there are people who might as well be angels.

Thank you,” she whispered, sending up a quick prayer for his continued recovery. “You’re welcome,” Marcus murmured. Honoria let out a little shriek of surprise, jumping back nearly a foot. “Sorry,” he said, but he was laughing. It was quite the loveliest sound Honoria had ever heard. “I wasn’t thanking you,” she said pertly. “I know.” He smiled

You can resist the seductions of grandiosity, blame, and shame. You can support other people in their creative efforts, acknowledging the truth that there’s plenty of room for everyone. You can measure your worth by your dedication to your path, not by your successes or failures. You can battle your demons (through therapy, recovery, prayer, or humility) instead of battling your gifts—in part by realizing that your demons were never the ones doing the work, anyhow. You can believe that you are neither a slave to inspiration nor its master, but something far more interesting—its partner—and that the two of you are working together toward something intriguing and worthwhile. You can live a long life, making and doing really cool things the entire time. You might earn a living with your pursuits or you might not, but you can recognize that this is not really the point. And at the end of your days, you can thank creativity for having blessed you with a charmed, interesting, passionate existence.

The world is filled with human toxins -- not the darkness that we all occasionally crave, but actually people who are so unwilling to bask in the angelic light that is offered us all that they grow poisonous -- and you can pray for their eventual recovery and healing. And sometimes those prayers will be answered. But sometimes these individuals have been vaccinated against goodness and against angels and they are so unwilling to give an inch to their God that often they never (and I use this expression absolutely literally) see the light.

In my community, mental health isn't taken seriously enough. Therapy is replaced by prayer. Tears are a sign of weakness. When you are different, you are told to change. And really, what does that do? It isolates desperate, vulnerable people and creates victims.

That is exactly what we need. Eyes to see. Isn’t that what Jesus offered us—clarity? Recovery of sight for the blind (Luke 4:18)? We need clarity and we need it badly. A simple prayer rises from my heart: Jesus, take away the fog and the clouds and the veil, and help me to see . . . give me eyes to really see.

When we feel like giving up, like we are beyond help, we must remember that we are never beyond hope. Holding on to hope has always motivated me to keep trying. I have found this hope by connecting with others. I’ve found it not only in individuals who have dealt with eating disorders but also in people who have battled addictions and those who have survived abuse, cancer, and broken hearts. I have found much-needed hope in my passions and dreams for the future. I’ve found it in prayer. Real hope combined with real actions has always pulled me through difficult times. Real hope combined with doing nothing has never pulled me through. In other words, sitting around and simply hoping that things will change won’t pick you up after a fall. Hope only gives you strength when you use it as a tool to move forward. Taking real action with a hopeful mind will pull you off the ground that eighth time and beyond.

My story testifies to the truth that we must never give up on people, no matter how many times they fail or how long recovery takes. We must never underestimate the healing power of prayer and love in the hands of the Lord. We must never give up hope.

When I first got sober, a man told me that upon waking every morning, instead of reciting the standard flowery recovery prayer, he said, “Whatever,“ and at night when he turned off his lights to go to sleep, he said, “Oh, well.“ In between he practised simplicity – he stayed sober, worked on acceptance, try to be of service to others, went for nature walks, picked up litter, made himself tea, and called it a day.

Cut. Take gazillion and one. This time with a little less weepy-weepy, please. A little less improvisation. A little less lip. A little more faith. A little more higher power. A little more prayer, a little less wine. Cut the crap. Cut the line. Tuck the chin. Look left, right, faster, slower. Pick seven dandelions on the first day of spring. Hate less or more. Work harder. Chew slower. Be better. Look to god, God, GOD. Watch your language. Watch your back. Collect rocks. Lick 'em clean. Count the pigeons in the backyard and multiply times forever. Give it up, let it go, take it back, take control. Say yes, say no. Say no, no, no. Stick to the script. Steps One through Twelve. One through Twelve. Keep coming back. It works if you work it.

Many people in recovery find that they feel spiritually grounded when in regular contact with the great outdoors. Others feel a deep serenity after lighting a candle in a church or temple or by chanting a sacred mantra. The point is that, unlike a typical religion that lays out a non-negotiable ideology, spirituality is expansive and deeply personal.

Even when they hurt themselves trying to harm me, I pray for their speedy recovery.

Anxiety fighters are warriors, sent into battle on a hope and a prayer, to fight a demon that only exists in the recesses of their mind.

The recovery must rather be—let me repeat—the result of an effort to be faithful, in both prayer and concrete commitments, to the will of the Lord in the midst of the poor.

Lord, addiction has plagued humankind ever since the dawn of time. Yet recovery is possible with You, a day at a time, a prayer at a time. —Edward Grinnan

There's nothing selfish about self-care.

am able to alleviate fear through prayer and meditation, the continuing knowledge that my life is not just my engagement with external phenomena.

No matter how you cut it, I was back to the short form of the Serenity Prayer, known in AA and other recovery groups as Fuck It.

God wants elect men--men out of whom self and the world have gone by a severe crucifixion, by a bankruptcy which has so totally ruined self and the world that there is neither hope nor desire of recovery; men who by this insolvency and crucifixion have turned toward God perfect hearts.

The thought manifests the word; The word manifests the deed; The deed develops into habit; And habit hardens into character; So watch the thought and its ways with care, And let them spring forth from love Born out of compassion for all beings. As the shadow follows the body, as we think, so we become.” Juan Mascaro

If we offer what we’ve experienced to Him, in all its horror and ugliness, and receive His offer to redeem all that occurred, He will bring fruit from it. This has been the single most healing aspect of my recovery from childhood victimization. This is my prayer for that precious little girl. And my prayer for you, too, if you’ve experienced something similar.

Remember that we deal with alcohol—cunning, baffling, powerful! Without help it is too much for us. But there is One who has all power—that One is God. May you find Him now! Half measures availed us nothing. We stood at the turning point. We asked His protection and care with complete abandon. Here are the steps we took, which are suggested as a program of recovery: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

But Hudson Taylor, young though he was, had learned to know God in a very real way. He had seen Him, as he wrote, quell the raging of a storm at sea, in answer to definite prayer, alter the direction of the wind, and give rain in a time of drought. He had seen Him, in answer to prayer, stay the hand of would-be murderers and quell the violence of enraged men. He had seen Him rebuke sickness in answer to prayer, and raise up the dying, when all hope of recovery seemed gone. For more than eight years he had proved His faithfulness in supplying the needs of his family and work in answer to prayer, unforeseen as many of those needs had been. How could he but encourage others to put their trust in the love that can not forget, the faithfulness that can not fail?

Thank you,” I answered, unsure of the proper American response to her gracious enthusiasm. In the Arab world, gratitude is a language unto itself. “May Allah bless the hands that give me this gift”; “Beauty is in your eyes that find me pretty”; “May God extend your life”; “May Allah never deny your prayer”; “May the next meal you cook for us be in celebration of your son’s wedding . . . of your daughter’s graduation . . . your mother’s recovery”; and so on, an infinite string of prayerful appreciation. Coming from such a culture, I have always found a mere “thank you” an insufficient expression that makes my voice sound miserly and ungrateful. I gazed at the cityscape. Ribbons of concrete and asphalt stretched and looped under more cars than I had ever seen.

I thought you were dead,” I say. “It almost killed me.” “Did it?” His voice is neutral. “You made a pretty fast recovery.” “No. You don’t understand.” My throat is tight; I feel as though I’m being strangled. “I couldn’t keep hoping, and then waking up every day and finding out it wasn’t true, and you were still gone. I—I wasn’t strong enough.” He is quiet for a second. It’s too dark to see his expression: He is standing in shadow again, but I can sense that he is staring at me. Finally he says, “When they took me to the Crypts, I thought they were going to kill me. They didn’t even bother. They just left me to die. They threw me in a cell and locked the door.” “Alex.” The strangled feeling has moved from my throat to my chest, and without realizing it, I have begun to cry. I move toward him. I want to run my hands through his hair and kiss his forehead and each of his eyelids and take away the memory of what he has seen. But he steps backward, out of reach. “I didn’t die. I don’t know how. I should have. I’d lost plenty of blood. They were just as surprised as I was. After that it became a kind of game—to see how much I could stand. To see how much they could do to me before I’d—” He breaks off abruptly. I can’t hear any more; don’t want to know, don’t want it to be true, can’t stand to think of what they did to him there. I take another step forward and reach for his chest and shoulders in the dark. This time, he doesn’t push me away. But he doesn’t embrace me either. He stands there, cold, still, like a statue. “Alex.” I repeat his name like a prayer, like a magic spell that will make everything okay again. I run my hands up his chest and to his chin. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Suddenly he jerks backward, simultaneously finding my wrists and pulling them down to my sides. “There were days I would rather they have killed me.” He doesn’t drop my wrists; he squeezes them tightly, pinning my arms, keeping me immobilized. His voice is low, urgent, and so full of anger it pains me even more than his grip. “There were days I asked for it—prayed for it when I went to sleep. The belief that I would see you again, that I could find you—the hope for it—was the only thing that kept me going.” He releases me and takes another step backward. “So no. I don’t understand.

…we cannot predict our lives. Only God Almighty knows and sees it all. We can only do our best and follow the path that He places under our feet. Things don’t always turn out the way we want, even if we do everything right. Even if we live by the word of God, He will not always answer our prayers the way we expect. And it is not our place to question God’s reasoning behind it, but only to have faith in His wisdom.

Then again, on another day, one might open the newspaper to read that the largest study of prayer ever undertaken had discovered yet again that there was no correlation of any kind between “intercessory” prayer and the recovery of patients. (Well, perhaps some correlation: patients who knew that prayers were being said for them had more postoperative complications than those who did not, though I would not argue that this proved anything.)

Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into the places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human.” Henri J.M. Nouwen

What chokes every prayer and every hope is the memory of all the prayers H. and I offered and all the false hopes we had. Not hopes raised merely by our own wishful thinking, hopes encouraged, even forced upon us, by false diagnoses, by X-ray photographs, by strange remissions, by one temporary recovery that might have ranked as a miracle. Step by step we were 'led up the garden path'. Time after time, when He seemed most gracious He was really preparing the next torture.

Lord, here's what we need today, right away, or as soon as we can get it: we need world peace, prosperity, security, life without risk, pleasure without pain, happiness without cost, and discipleship with no cross. That's why we're here, at church, to get our needs met. Our church tries to be user-friendly and seeker sensitive. That's why on Sundays we serve espresso with a dash of amaretto before our services, a little caffeine boost until we get to the main point of our worship: the prayer requests. So like we were saying, we need a quick recovery from gall bladder surgery, an effortless cataract removal, a happy marriage, obedient and chaste kids, and a reason to get out of bed in the morning. If you love us, you'll meet our needs. Now then, is there something that we could do for you? You're thirsty? Well, if you're the Messiah, why don't you fix yourself a divine drink? We've got needs of our own, thank you. It's our job to have need; it's your job to meet need. For this and all other needs, spoken and unspoken, felt and unfelt, incipient and obvious, personal and corporate, immediate and long term, we pray. Amen.  

In 2017, I was invited to lead a mindfulness workshop and guide a live meditation on Mingus Mountain, Arizona, to over 100 men and women at a recovery retreat. On the eve of my workshop, I had the opportunity to join in a men's twelve-step meeting, which took place by the campfire in Prescott National Park Forest, with at least 40 men recovering from childhood grief and trauma. The meeting grounded us in what was a large retreat with many unfamiliar faces. I was the only mixed-race Brit, surrounded by mostly white middle-class American men (baby boomers and Generation X), yet our common bond of validating each other's wounds in recovery utterly transcended any differences of nationality, race and heritage. We shared our pain and hope in a non-shaming environment, listening and allowing every man to have his say without interruption. At the end of the meeting we stood up in a large circle and recited the serenity prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the one I can, and the wisdom to know that one is me". After the meeting closed, I felt that I belonged and I was enthusiastic about the retreat, even though I was thousands of miles away from England.

and were greatly distressed that their only son must be taken from them. We felt a spirit of prayer for him, and earnestly besought the Lord to spare his life. We believed that he would get well, although to all appearances there was no possibility of his recovery. It was a powerful season. My husband raised him in his arms, and exclaimed, ‘You will not die, but live!’ We believed that God would be glorified in his recovery. We left Dartmouth, and were absent about eight days. When we returned, the sick boy came out to meet us. He had gained four pounds in flesh. We found the household rejoicing in God for his wonderful work. 

Some persons whom I had interviewed had instantaneous “spontaneous recoveries during prayer, including one case in which other cases of such spontaneous recoveries were not known, but their doctors classified the recoveries as anomalies and refused to admit that a miracle had occurred. One doctor also told me of a dramatic, medically inexplicable healing that occurred after prayer, in which case he was an eyewitness, but the surgeon was content to label it a “spontaneous healing.”[151] This approach to classifying data to fit existing naturalistic paradigms inevitably obscures all potential evidence in conflict with the paradigm.

You can resist the seductions of grandiosity, blame, and shame. You can support other people in their creative efforts, acknowledging the truth that there’s plenty of room for everyone. You can measure your worth by your dedication to your path, not by your successes or failures. You can battle your demons (through therapy, recovery, prayer, or humility) instead of battling your gifts—in part by realizing that your demons were never the ones doing the work, anyhow. You can believe that you are neither a slave to inspiration nor its master, but something far more interesting—its partner—and that the two of you are working together toward something intriguing and worthwhile.

My Truck Takes Diesel “‘In your anger do not sin’; Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.” EPHESIANS 4:26–27 I know she thought she was helping me when my wife filled my truck with gas. The problem is that my truck is a diesel. Now she was phoning me to come rescue her because the truck wouldn’t start! I told her I was on my way, but all I could think about was what my wife’s actions were going to cost me—anything from draining the tank to replacing the engine. I wish I could say I was just a little frustrated, but the truth is I was angry. I prayed and asked Jesus to help me respond in the right way. Then, because I need to be accountable, I called one of my brothers in recovery and told him what had happened and how angry I was. When I saw my wife, the first words out of my mouth were, “I am so sorry this happened to you. I know this wasn’t in your plans today.” It felt good talking to my brother later and telling him that God had helped me with my anger and given me a good response when I saw my wife. I had acted on, rather than reacted to, a bad situation. It turned out the truck was fine. I drained the tank, put diesel in, and it started right up. The best part is that because I made a good choice, I won’t have to make amends. PRAYER Father, thank you for helping me choose to be kind and forgiving rather than rude and judgmental. Things always go better when I surrender to you. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Late one night, during a toss-and-turn fretful sleep, I pondered my crisis. No solutions were on the horizon. I, again, wasted my psychic energy with prayer. Nothing. No angel on a white cloud. No rainbow’s pot of gold. No way to control the people I loved. As I rolled over and put the pillow over my head attempting to block all that was negative, I silently screamed for rescue. Then, in a far away and distinct part of my brain, a small voice said, “You have to do this on your own.” I thought, “Was that the best You can do?” This god, to whom I was desperately sending burnt offerings of my own humiliation, couldn’t send an avenging angel or a wise man imparting wisdom? All You can give me is this feeble message of abandonment? At that moment, I quit believing in that god.

myself to produce by will power a firm belief that my prayers for her recovery would be successful; and, as I thought, I achieved it. When nevertheless she died I shifted my ground and worked myself into a belief that there was to be a miracle. The interesting thing is that my disappointment produced no results beyond itself. The thing hadn’t worked, but I was used to things not working, and I thought no more about it. I think the truth is that the belief into which I had hypnotized myself was itself too irreligious for its failure to cause any religious revolution. I had approached God, or my idea of God, without love, without awe, even without fear. He was, in my mental picture of this miracle, to appear neither as Savior nor as Judge, but merely as a magician; and when He had done what was required of Him I supposed He would simply—well, go away. It never crossed my mind that the tremendous contact which I solicited should have any consequences beyond restoring the status quo. I imagine that a “faith” of this kind is often generated in children and that its disappointment is of no religious importance;

DAY 137 Laser Tag “What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” ROMANS 8:31 A few years ago my daughter was invited to a laser tag birthday party. She was little, and the laser tag vest and gun were huge, which made it hard for her to play. The first time through, she didn’t do well at all. She was an easy target for the more experienced players, and she got shot—a lot! She was pretty discouraged, but before the next round started, one of the dads handed me a vest and said, “Go get ’em, Dad.” I got the message. I followed close behind my daughter and picked off any kids foolish enough to come near her. By the end of the round, the kids knew that she was no longer an easy target. Her daddy was there, and he was not to be messed with. It was awesome. Her score that round vastly improved, bringing a big smile to her face. When we go into the arena alone, it’s easy to get picked on, singled out, and told that we are destined to fail. But when we go into battle with our heavenly Father’s protection and covering, everything changes. Not only do we have a chance to stay alive, we have a guaranteed win. PRAYER Thank you, Father, for fighting for me, keeping me safe, and helping me come through as a victor. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

The Alpha and Omega “‘I am the Alpha and the Omega,’ says the Lord God, ‘who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.’” REVELATION 1:8 The third step of the secular version of the 12 Steps says, “We made a decision to turn our wills and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood him.” I don’t know about you, but when I got into recovery, I wasn’t looking for a God I could understand. I needed a God who was beyond my understanding, far beyond my limited, finite comprehension. I needed the one and only God—the Alpha and Omega, who is and was and is to come! As we make this difficult journey to recovery, we need a present-tense God who is to guide us in our everyday lives, giving us what we need to be victorious one day at a time. We also need a past-tense God who was there from the very beginning and who created us in his own image and likeness. We must have a future-tense God as well. Our God who is to come is able to make good on his promises to us. This is why Celebrate Recovery’s third step reads a little differently. It says, “We made a decision to turn our lives and our wills over to the care of God.” Our God is so much more than enough; he is incomprehensible. He helps us deal with our past, stay grounded in the present, and be filled with hope for the future. PRAYER Lord God, you are my everything. Thank you for touching my life from one end to the other. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I came to England weak in body, and, in consequence of much study, as I suppose, I was taken ill on May 15, and was soon, at least in my own estimation, apparently beyond recovery. The weaker I became in body, the happier I was in spirit. Never in my whole life had I seen myself so vile, so guilty, so altogether what I ought not to have been, as at this time. It was as if every sin of which I had been guilty was brought to my remembrance; but at the same time I could realize that all my sins were completely forgiven—that I was washed and made clean, completely clean, in the blood of Jesus. The result of this was great peace. I longed exceedingly to depart and be with Christ. When my medical attendant came to see me, my prayer was something like this: “Lord, Thou knowest that he does not know what is for my real welfare, therefore do Thou direct him.” When I took my medicine, my hearty prayer each time was something like this: “Lord, Thou knowest that this medicine is in itself nothing, no more than as if I were to take a little water. Now please, O Lord, to let it produce the effect which is for my real welfare, and for Thy glory. Let me either be taken soon to Thyself, or let me be soon restored; let me be ill for a longer time, and then taken to Thyself, or let me be ill for a longer time, and then restored. O Lord, do with me as seemeth Thee best!

You can measure your worth by your dedication to your path, not by your successes or failures. You can battle your demons (through therapy, recovery, prayer, or humility) instead of battling your gifts—in part by realizing that your demons were never the ones doing the work, anyhow. You

In so many places, however, these issues were worked on with either spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, Bible study, and repentance, or in workshops that focused on the practical aspects of solving those problems. The spiritual and the practical were addressed, but not linked together with a biblical understanding. We decided to address our concerns in three ways. First, John and I wanted those responsible for helping people grow to know how the spiritual and the practical are linked. We wanted pastors to know, for example, how a small-group ministry that addresses people’s emotional problems is an important application of the doctrine of the church, not just a good idea from secular humanism. And we wanted those who were leading divorce recovery workshops, for example, to know the theology behind those practices, not only so they could defend them, but also so they could make sure that what they were doing was truly biblical. Second, we wanted those who were working with people to be aware of the things that deeply change people’s lives. We wanted them to know the processes involved and be able to gain skills in all of them, not just a few. Many do a great job in working with people in the things they have been exposed to, but, like us, have a longing to know more of what the Bible teaches about what makes people grow. Third, we wanted people who were growing to know not only how to grow, but that their growth was biblical growth. We wanted them to understand that “if you are getting better, it is because you are growing spiritually. You are doing what the Bible says to do.” People need not only to grow, but also to understand where that growth fits in to a larger picture of God’s plan for them and his plan of redemption. It is good to know that their growth is from him.

God is still in the blessing business and my prayer is that He continues to do business with you

Anglicanism is “incarnational,” that is, it believes that God has entered fully into human life

Prayer: I turn my will and my life over to the Higher Power of Karma. I vow to live in harmony with the moral laws of the universe and to use the power of Karma to support my spiritual and worldly growth.

I created this prayer collection to offer ways for people to bring about change in their lives. Everyone needs help at various times in their lives. No matter what we need or experience in life, we can always pray to make a difference for ourselves. We don’t have to be swept away by events or circumstances beyond our control. God is there to lend a helping hand, especially when we ask.

With "anything people do but shouldn't" labeled "disease," those who oppose Christianity may very well call prayer, worship, reading the Bible, faith in Jesus Christ, and obeying the Lord 'diseases" or symptoms of a religious "disease." The organization Fundamentalists Anonymous is based upon the idea that conservative Christianity (believing that Jesus is the only way and that the Bible is the inerrant Word of God) is a serious, debilitating addiction. Unfortunately, the three Christian authors of 'Love Is a Choice' have listed this anti-Christian organization at the end of their book with this recommendation: "Seek them out locally.

More than seventy studies on intercessory prayer have shown the same nonlocal energetic connection effects as detected in the cheek cell experiment. One example of such a study was conducted by Dr. Randolph Byrd in San Francisco. It showed that patients undergoing heart surgery who were prayed for by groups scattered around the world did significantly better in their recovery than those who were not prayed for by these groups.9

I sometimes think the recovery community is a picture of what the church should look like. I’ve experienced the Spirit of God hovering in those recovery rooms as a palpable presence, bringing healing to those who struggle and who submit to their higher power. It’s my belief that Jesus, my Higher Power, hears those prayers, whether or not they know his name. His favorite people were, after all, the most broken among us — the outcasts, the misfits, the sick, and, yes, the addicts.

You can measure your worth by your dedication to your path, not by your successes or failures. You can battle your demons (through therapy, recovery, prayer, or humility) instead of battling your gifts— in part by realizing that your demons were never the ones doing the work, anyhow. Gilbert, Elizabeth (2015-09-22). Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear (p. 41). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Editi

In science, hearsay and anecdotal evidence are not sufficient to prove something. Each time a "miracle" occurs, it's easy to see magical thinking, misattribution and other human errors at work. For example, if a child is ill in the hospital, a family member might pray for his recovery. If that child does recover, the praying relative will attribute this to the power of prayer, not to any medical innovations, immunological responses or sheer power of chance.

An unschooled man who knows how to meditate upon the Lord has learned far more than the man with the highest education who does not know how to meditate.” Charles Stanley

Isaiah 40:31   But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength: They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.

Work as if you were to live a hundred years, pray as if you were to die tomorrow.” Ben Franklin

A study of heart patients in 6 separate hospitals sought to determine whether prayers from strangers would have any effect on a person's recovery (1). After carefully following the recovery of 1,800 heart surgery patients for 30 days after the surgery, researchers found absolutely no link between prayer and recovery. However, there was a significant difference between those who were aware of the fact that they were being prayed for and those who did not know. Those who knew ended up suffering more complications, possibly due to the additional stress it caused. Being told that a high number of people are praying for your recovery might increase how severe you would perceive your illness to be and thus negatively affect your recovery. To date, there have been no reputable scientific studies showing any clear link between prayer and healing.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. —Psalm 147:3 (NIV) It had been more than a year since our son Paul was in a car accident, an accident so brutal it severely injured all involved—and killed a passenger in the other car. Paul’s physical recovery was amazing, given the extent of his neck injuries. Within three months, he was back at the office, driving two hours round-trip to work, and working out in the gym. However, Elba and I wondered how he was doing emotionally. We were constantly praying, “Lord, help our son express his emotions from the accident. Heal him on the inside as well.” One evening, I inquired how the civil case was going. “Paul, did you call the lawyer?” “No,” he replied. I pressed on: “You know, it is important that you call him and stay up to date on this matter.” I sensed his lack of interest in the topic. I persisted: “Paul, you need to be responsible and reach out to him.” The look in his eyes told me that I had crossed the line. Standing tall with tears in his eyes and anger in his voice, he said, “I just want this thing to be over with.” His mom quickly responded, “Paul, we know that you are struggling and want to put all of this behind you. How can we help you?” There was a long pause. He finally answered, sharing his feelings for the first time since the accident, grieving for everyone affected—particularly the deceased. Our prayers were answered: We now knew how much Paul had been hurting. This was the beginning of his emotional healing. Lord, heal my hurts, especially those deep within me, unknown to those around me. —Pablo Diaz Digging Deeper: Ps 103:2–4; Jer 17:14

April 24 MORNING “And because of all this we make a sure covenant.” — Nehemiah 9:38 THERE are many occasions in our experience when we may very rightly, and with benefit, renew our covenant with God. After recovery from sickness when, like Hezekiah, we have had a new term of years added to our life, we may fitly do it. After any deliverance from trouble, when our joys bud forth anew, let us again visit the foot of the cross, and renew our consecration. Especially, let us do this after any sin which has grieved the Holy Spirit, or brought dishonour upon the cause of God; let us then look to that blood which can make us whiter than snow, and again offer ourselves unto the Lord. We should not only let our troubles confirm our dedication to God, but our prosperity should do the same. If we ever meet with occasions which deserve to be called “crowning mercies” then, surely, if He hath crowned us, we ought also to crown our God; let us bring forth anew all the jewels of the divine regalia which have been stored in the jewel-closet of our heart, and let our God sit upon the throne of our love, arrayed in royal apparel. If we would learn to profit by our prosperity, we should not need so much adversity. If we would gather from a kiss all the good it might confer upon us, we should not so often smart under the rod. Have we lately received some blessing which we little expected? Has the Lord put our feet in a large room? Can we sing of mercies multiplied? Then this is the day to put our hand upon the horns of the altar, and say, “Bind me here, my God; bind me here with cords, even for ever.” Inasmuch as we need the fulfillment of new promises from God, let us offer renewed prayers that our old vows may not be dishonoured. Let us this morning make with Him a sure covenant, because of the pains of Jesus which for the last month we have been considering with gratitude.

1Ti 2:1 I exhort therefore, first of all, that 1apetitions, prayers, 2intercessions, thanksgivings be made on behalf of ball men; 1Ti 2:2 On behalf of akings and all who are in high position, that we may lead a 1quiet and tranquil life in all 2bgodliness and 3cgravity.

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4:18–19 NIV)

GOSPEL REDISCOVERY Along with extraordinary, persistent prayer, the most necessary element of gospel renewal is a recovery of the gospel itself, with a particular emphasis on the new birth and on salvation through grace alone. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones taught that the gospel emphasis on grace could be lost in several ways. A church might simply become heterodox — losing its grip on the orthodox tenets of theology that under-gird the gospel, such as the triune nature of God, the deity of Christ, the wrath of God, and so on. It may turn its back on the very belief in justification by faith alone and the need for conversion and so move toward a view that being a Christian is simply a matter of church membership or of living a life based on Christ’s example. This cuts the nerve of gospel renewal and revival.2 But it is possible to subscribe to every orthodox doctrine and nevertheless fail to communicate the gospel to people’s hearts in a way that brings about repentance, joy, and spiritual growth. One way this happens is through dead orthodoxy, in which such pride grows in our doctrinal correctness that sound teaching and right church practice become a kind of works-righteousness. Carefulness in doctrine and life is, of course, critical, but when it is accompanied in a church by self-righteousness, mockery, disdain of everyone else, and a contentious, combative attitude, it shows that, while the doctrine of justification may be believed, a strong spirit of legalism reigns nonetheless. The doctrine has failed to touch hearts.3 Lloyd-Jones also speaks of “defective orthodoxy” and “spiritual inertia.”4 Some churches hold to orthodox doctrines but with imbalances and a lack of proper emphasis. Many ministries spend more time defending the faith than propagating it. Or they may give an inordinate amount of energy and attention to matters such as prophecy or spiritual gifts or creation and evolution. A church may become enamored with the mechanics of ministry and church organization. There are innumerable reasons that critical doctrines of grace and justification and conversion, though strongly held, are kept “on the shelf.” They are not preached and communicated in such a way that connects to people’s lives. People see the doctrines — yet they do not see them. It is possible to get an “A” grade on a doctrinal test and describe accurately the doctrines of our salvation, yet be blind to their true implications and power. In this sense, there are plenty of orthodox churches in which the gospel must be rediscovered and then brought home and applied to people’s hearts. When this happens, nominal Christians get converted, lethargic and weak Christians become empowered, and nonbelievers are attracted to the newly beautified Christian congregation.

PRAYER FOR A SICK PERSON Heavenly Father, physician of our souls and bodies, Who has sent your only-begotten Son and our LORD Jesus Christ to heal every sickness and infirmity, visit and heal also your servant (name) from all physical and spiritual ailments through the grace of your Christ. Grant him/her patience in this sickness, strength of body and spirit, and recovery of health. LORD, you have taught us through your word to pray for each other that we may be healed. I pray, heal your servant (name) and grant to him/her the gift of complete health. For you are the source of healing and to you I give glory, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. O LORD our God, who by a word alone did heal all diseases, who did cure the kinswoman of Peter, you who chastise with pity and heal according to your goodness; who are able to put aside every sickness and infirmity, do you yourself, the same LORD, grant aid to your servant (name) and cure him/her of every sickness of which he /she is grieved; and send down upon him/her your great mercy, and if it be your will, give to him/her health and a complete recovery; for you are the physician of our souls and bodies, and to you do we send up Glory, to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, both now and forever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, / because he has anointed me / to bring glad tidings to the poor. / He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives / and recovery of sight to the blind, / to let the oppressed go free, / and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.

As I go through my life in recovery, steps six and seven come into play more actively than any other personally applicable spiritual principles. Open-minded willingness followed by active prayer through changed behavior are able to mold my character, but they do not change it. Change, true conversion, comes as a gift when I am humble enough to ask for it.

STEP 11  –  Spiritual Awareness We pray and think about ourselves, praying only for the strength to do what is right. We have always been a People of prayer. In our old ways, we prayed when the sun came up, we prayed when we picked the herbs that became our medicine, we prayed for a good harvest, and we prayed when the buffalo or deer was taken so our people might live. We are still a People of prayer. Something inside of us becomes alert when an Elder prays before a gathering. At home, there is prayer before a basketball game or a graduation. Step 11 is about re-awakening our gift of prayer and using it for sobriety, recovery and especially on the Wellbriety journey that will last our whole life. Many

Just want to encourage everyone who is in the process of rebuilding their life. It's not going to be easy, there will be many obstacles, but many blessings will come. Let go of all the fears that you have , they will be eliminated in the process of your recovery. Be honest with yourself, and others. Don't give up on your recovery or God before the blessings happen! God's love never fails, remember that your prayers will get answered, maybe not exactly when you want, but God will answer them! I pray that you stay on the right path!

When you let go of the justifications,the of blaming others, and stop the manipulation, then you can truly recover. You have to surrender, you have to die to your old self. Let go of your old thinking, and surround yourself with others who are successful in recovery. Learn how to handle situations without using, with prayer, and support from others. It's not an easy road, but when take the time to learn who you are, how to react to situations, and truly love yourself, you will find an abundance of joy in your life. God wants the best for you, and he designed you to live in happiness. Stay humble, work through each situation with a great attitude, and keep moving forward!

In July, 1853, it pleased the Lord to try my faith in a way in which before it had not been tried. My beloved daughter and only child, and a believer since the commencement of the year 1846, was taken ill on June 20th. "This illness, at first a low fever, turned to typhus. On July 3rd there seemed no hope of her recovery. Now was the trial of faith. But faith triumphed. My beloved wife and I were enabled to give her up into the hands of the Lord. He sustained us both exceedingly. But I will only speak about myself. Though my only and beloved child was brought near the grave, yet was my soul in perfect peace, satisfied with the will of my Heavenly Father, being assured that He would only do that for her and her parents, which in the end would be the best. She continued very ill till about July 20th, when restoration began. "On

What does it matter if it is some abnormal tension, if the end-result, the instant of apprehension, recalled and analysed during recovery, turns out to be the highest pitch of harmony and beauty, conferring a sense of some hitherto-unknown and unguessed completeness, proportion, reconciliation, an ecstatic, prayerful fusion with the supreme synthesis of life?

Work on prayer. You don’t have to be religious to pray. Praying does multiple things: it builds hope, it gets your worries and gratitude out in the open, and it makes you feel less alone. It also distracts your brain for a few minutes.

Without taking use of ox or man, Or of creature as Mary desired, Without spinning thread of silk or of satin, Without sowing, without harrowing, without reaping, Without rowing, without games, without fishing, Without going to the hunting hill, Without trimming arrows on the Lord's Day, Without cleaning byre, without threshing corn, Without kiln, without mill on the Lord's Day. Whosoever would keep the Lord's Day, Even would it be to him and lasting, From setting of sun on Saturday Till rising of sun on Monday.17 Beltaine remained the central festival in the cycle of the agricultural pastoral year, the season of light, the time of growth. It was then that the sheep and cattle would be driven up to the summer pastures, the “shielings” in Scotland, the “hafods” in Wales. This was a virtual migration since these might be six or eight or even twelve or fourteen miles away, and it often meant crossing land that was rough and rugged or full of swamps, even sometimes having to swim across channels or rivers. The procession included the men carrying spades, ropes, and other things that might be needed to repair their summer huts, while the women carried the bedding, meal, and dairy utensils. As they went, there were songs to be sung on the journey, a dedicatory hymn to the Trinity and to the most familiar of the saints, Michael, Bride, and Columba, respectively the protector, the woman who knew about dairies, the guardian of their cattle—and, of course, to Mary herself, who on this occasion they address as mother of the White Lamb: Valiant Michael of the white steeds, Who subdued the Dragon of blood, For love of God, for pains of Mary's Son, Spread

Some days the world feels too hard and heavy, too much violence, too much pain, too much, too much, too much, and no way to make any of it make sense. Some days the people we love the most are enduring deep horror and loss and fear and trauma and pain and there's not a damn thing we can do, not really - and we're left sitting with some crazy helplessness and anger and grief without anywhere that feels big enough to hold it all. Some days you don't know if you want to scream the rage or cry the grief or run to the ocean or collapse in a puddle on the floor or sink into a too-hot bath or go back to bed or lose your mind for a little while, because holding it together takes more than you've got. Some days you feel like you'd do just about anything to have someone show up at your door for no other reason but to deliver an endless hug because reactivated trauma is a bitch, even when it's not your own, and because we all need more hugs, even on the good days—and some days are as far as hell from good as you can imagine. Some days you buy yourself the pale pink roses because you need a reminder of beauty, and you make yourself cup after cup of tea and finally let yourself cry, hard. You take the invite to go out to dinner and laugh and forget for a while. You pay attention, with deep gratitude, to the spaces that feel safe enough to open fully into, and to the people that show up to fill those spaces. You do what you can even though it feels like way too little and not near enough and not anything really in the grand scheme of things, and you say a prayer of thanks for the people give without knowing even why they are giving and a blessing for the grace of connections that are strong enough for that. Whatever you're doing right now, send a wave of love out into the universe. The biggest and brightest one you've got. Send protection, and healing, and fire, and light, and love and love and love and love. I can't tell you where you're sending it, but I know there's enough hurt and hard in the world right now, that whatever direction it goes and wherever it lands, it will rest with someone who needs it.

In all the churches of the city people said heartfelt prayers for his recovery, urging the Almighty to make allowances for one atheist, and God was already supposed to know why he should act on their request. In creating man, God had also created competition for himself. If he didn’t listen to the prayers for Tito’s recovery, he would soon see for himself what kind of monsters his most perfect creations could turn into.

There is evidence that many, though by no means all, recipients of prayer perceive themselves to have been healed; medical records confirm that some of those reporting healing exhibited medically surprising recoveries; and data indicate that proximal intercessory prayer sometimes produces measurable health effects.

The worst were the Christians who would try to have ‘a quiet word’ with him before the meeting, trotting out the usual shit. They based the twelve steps of recovery on the Bible. He needed to say his prayers every morning. Fire and brimstone. Nothing worse than a converted alcoholic who then becomes a bullying AA zealot.

David knew how to pray. He often inquired of Jehovah (1 Sam. 30:8; 2 Sam. 5:19, 23; Psa. 27:4). The best prayer is to inquire of the Lord step by step, according to the sense within. By inquiring in this way, we can easily receive God’s leading, and we can work according to the leading.

What He did for the prodigal son, He will do for you, and He will also do it for those whom you are praying. Lost purpose will be recovered.

We began to recognize in our own hearts places where we were actually expecting more out of life and of recovery—better outcomes–than we were expecting out of God. As we intentionally and prayerfully offered up our fears, our purpose began to clarify. No matter what deaths, big or little, we would encounter in the year ahead, we felt empowered to live fully into this fragile existence with a newfound freedom, knowing that God would give us life in ways we could have never asked for or imagined.

As a man in recovery I must remain in serenity, clean and serene; I’ve spent enough time jazzed, wired, buzzing, and gouching. Serenity is the first thing people with addiction issues are instructed to request: God, grant me the serenity To accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference. Junkies and alkies and bulimics and gamblers and sex addicts and love addicts and people who can’t stop shopping, smoking, loving, fighting—whatever it is, there’s someone out there who’s doing too much of it—and for those people there’s a solution and sanctuary, and in those places of sanctuary, this prayer is recited. The first thing is serenity. The agitation has to end. The itchy irritability, the restlessness, the wanting. So do the lows, the self-loathing, wretched, heavy-hearted, lead-gutted, teary-eyed, dry-mouthed misery. The pain. So do the highs. The wide-eyed, bilious highs, the cheek-chewing, trouble-brewing highs, the never-stopping-till-I-touch-the-sky highs, the up-at-dawn hitting-the-pipe highs, chasing, defacing, heart-racing highs, gagging, shagging, blagging highs. All the things we do to change the way we feel, the way the world looks and tastes: It’s all got to go. So courage is necessary. Courage to change yourself, the one thing you can change. Your attitude and actions. Neither the serenity nor the courage are available to you on your own; if they were, you would’ve found them by now—you’ve been pretty fastidious in your research. God, however you conceptualize him, will have to grant them to you. And whatever you conceptualize God as, with your human mind, your individual brain, made up of instinctive responses, training, and memories, however you conceptualize a power that’s beyond you and the decisions you’ve made so far, your conception will be extremely limited. Likely as limited as my cat’s conception of the Internet. The invisible network of interconnected portals that communicate data are beyond my cat’s comprehension. My cat’s inability to comprehend does not impede the Internet. The World Wide Web (which is incidentally quicker to say than “double-you, double-you, double-you-dot”) will continue to exist, regardless of my cat’s awareness. Pray, then, for wisdom, wisdom to know the difference between things we can change and things we can’t. Likely this will be a lifetime’s work, undertaken one day at a time. Which, for humans, is the way time happens

I admire thee, master of the tides, Of the Yore-flood, of the year's fall; The recurb and the recovery of the gulf's sides, The girth of it and the wharf of it and the wall; Staunching, quenching ocean of a motionable mind; Ground of being, and granite of it: past all Grasp God, throned behind Death with a sovereignty that heeds but hides, bodes but abides; With a mercy that outrides The all of water, an ark For the listener; for the lingerer with a love glides Lower than death and the dark; A vein for the visiting of the past-prayer, pent in prison, The-last-breath penitent spirits—the uttermost mark Our passion-plungèd giant risen, The Christ of the Father compassionate, fetched in the storm of his strides. Now burn, new born to the world, Doubled-naturèd name, The heaven-flung, heart-fleshed, maiden-furled Miracle-in-Mary-of-flame, Mid-numbered he in three of the thunder-throne! Not a dooms-day dazzle in his coming nor dark as he came; Kind, but royally reclaiming his own; A released shower, let flash to the shire, not a lightning of fíre hard-hurled. Dame, at our door Drowned, and among our shoals, Remember us in the roads, the heaven-haven of the Reward: Our Kíng back, Oh, upon énglish sóuls! Let him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east, More brightening her, rare-dear Britain, as his reign rolls, Pride, rose, prince, hero of us, high-priest, Our hearts' charity's hearth's fire, our thoughts' chivalry's throng's Lord.

The practice of prayer, if it is going to amount to anything more than wish lists and complaints, requires a recovery of personal, relational, revelational language in both our listening and our speaking.

Now, to anyone in recovery that’s Get Well 101, that’s where you begin your program. I had never thought that it was what I had to do. But one morning I looked in the mirror and thought, “You’re throwing your life away here, so maybe you’re gonna have to try something that’s not your idea, but an idea from someone who’s actually doing well in life.” I started praying every morning. Once I opened my mind to the concept of a greater power, I never struggled with it. Everywhere I went, I felt and saw the existence of a creative intelligence in this universe, of a loving power larger than myself in nature, in people, everywhere. My prayers and meditations would gain steam and momentum over the years and become an important part of my recovery and daily experience.

To trust God means to depend upon God This is the reason children are content. They know, deep down, they are taken care of. To lose this feeling is the great tragedy of life. To find it again, the greatest recovery.

but the immeasurable kindness of God. How many times had we come to the brink of disaster and he had brought us through? How many times had this business almost sunk beyond recovery and he rescued us? I gave a prayer of thanksgiving that afternoon

Penance (Scripture selection — Joel 2:12-13) The name of Gene Hamilton may be new to you if you are not from the archdiocese of New York or have not read A Priest Forever by Father Benedict Groeschel (published by Our Sunday Visitor in 1998). Gene was a seminarian for that archdiocese at St. Joseph’s Seminary, Dunwoodie. From all accounts he was a fine student, a friendly, sincere young man, eager to be a priest. He was diagnosed with cancer, and the final years of his life were a real cross for him — pain, decline, hopes way up after surgery and treatment only to have them dashed with another outbreak. In his brave struggle a saint emerged, and I use that word purposefully. In his pain, agony, and dwindling strength, a man of deep faith, indomitable hope, and genuine love arose; a seminarian of prayer, who never complained, thought more of the needs and difficulties of others than his own. A man driven by one desire: to be united with Jesus in his passion and death, hopefully, yearning to do so as a priest. There was a lot of longing for a miracle by his family, brother seminarians, friends and admirers; many, including doctors and other medical personnel, told the young man, “You’re going to beat this, Gene.” Dozens who just knew he was too good, too innocent, too pure and holy to die so young and painfully, prayed for his recovery. In January of 1997, Gene Hamilton was too ill to come on the pilgrimage here to Rome with the men from Dunwoodie. Bishop Edwin O’Brien, realistic and thoughtful man that he is, with the late Cardinal John O’Connor, approached the prefect of the Congregation for Catholic Education, the dicastery of the Holy See under which seminaries come, for permission to ordain

Whatever the case, after years of making vows and saying prayers but then eating compulsively again, we were left without faith that God could restore us to sanity about food. We believed intellectually that God could do anything, but deep in our hearts we “knew” God couldn’t help us with this area of our lives. It was this negative concept about God we had to change if we were to find recovery.

Suppose while living in Los Angeles, you learned that your mother in New York City was seriously ill. Your first impulse might be to leave your home and job to go to her. But what if that were not possible? Would you have to give up any hope of lending the strength of your faith to the process of your mother’s recovery? No. While you might not be physically present, your prayers would go to her nonetheless. It is the Father within that doeth the work.

After carefully following the recovery of 1,800 heart surgery patients for 30 days after the surgery, researchers found absolutely no link between prayer and recovery.

I had no plan in mind. However, that statement is one I have always distrusted in other people, and I distrust it even more when I think it or say it myself. The unconscious always knows what the person is doing or planning. The agenda is to find the situation and the rationale that will allow the individual to commit deeds that are unconscionable. No matter how you cut it, I was back to the short form of the Serenity Prayer, known in AA and other recovery groups as Fuck It.

Serenity is one of the most important gifts we have at our disposal. It is readily available to us if we’re willing to take a few simple steps, beginning with prayer. Serenity has been proven to:  Help us to make better decisions  Clear our minds of regret and anger  Release resentment  Help us stay calm in most situations  Dissolve sorrow and remorse  Make us more enjoyable and approachable  Help us sleep better  Open the channels to God or Spirit

I began a practice at Exodus that is a major part of my life to this day. During the five and a half years that I’d been sober, I never got into prayer or meditation. I wasn’t clear on what it was to cultivate a conscious contact with a power greater than myself. At Exodus, someone who worked there suggested that I start each morning with a prayer. Now, to anyone in recovery that’s Get Well 101, that’s where you begin your program. I had never thought that it was what I had to do. But one morning I looked in the mirror and thought, “You’re throwing your life away here, so maybe you’re gonna have to try something that’s not your idea, but an idea from someone who’s actually doing well in life.” I started praying every morning. Once I opened my mind to the concept of a greater power, I never struggled with it. Everywhere I went, I felt and saw the existence of a creative intelligence in this universe, of a loving power larger than myself in nature, in people, everywhere. My prayers and meditations would gain steam and momentum over the years and become an important part of my recovery and daily experience.