I attended a memorial service last week - a lovely tribute to someone I've known for a long time. After, across a platter of cold cuts, I complimented the woman who sang, telling her that she'd moved me to tears. Beautiful music, sung from the heart, does that to me, especially in a place of reflection on a life cut short. I must've said something else to her regarding Spirit, because in a later conversation, she paused, and asked, "You've mentioned God a couple of times now - are you a believer?" To myself, I said, "Oh crap - here comes the pitch," but to her, I explained that my path to spirituality had come through my involvement with 12 Step programs. She replied something to the effect of, "That's a nice start."  My AA/Alanon hackles stood up as I politely backed out of the conversation.

I doubt that she meant anything other than sincerely wanting to share the joy and peace she has gained from her path, though what I initially heard was, "12 Steps don't really count." How many times have we heard, "Oh, you still go to those meetings?" or "I don't go anymore because I'm back in church," with the implication that our 12 Step programs are religion-lite, or something to be graduated from and done with. I suppose it is a matter of perspective.

A speaker I listen to frequently says that AA isn't a program for getting sober, explaining that if you aren't already at least dry, the Steps will mean little. The literature tells us that the purpose of the book "is to enable you to find a Power Greater than yourself that will solve your problem." (Big Book, p. 45) Taken at face value, that could mean that finding a Higher Power will solve your drink problem, period. Taken over the course of time, I read it as meaning that the whole point of 12 step programs is to develop a living, breathing, developing, conscious relationship with a God of my understanding. Yes, that relationship that felt so new at the beginning did grant me the strength and spiritual space to maintain my new-found abstinence, one day at a time. But, as time has gone on, conscious contact has developed into the prime directive of all my affairs, not simply my alcoholism.

Because of a schedule shift, I attended a meeting over the weekend that I've only been to a few times, a meeting that begins with 15 minutes of silent meditation. I tried to talk myself out of it, thinking of the laundry, the cooking, the blah-blah-blah that needed doing. But, I wasn't going to make my Sunday home group, and I always remember the wise words of a friend - if I only go to one meeting a week, and miss that, I've gone 2 weeks without a meeting. AA works for me, on so many levels. I don't want to be one of the ones who simply drifts away because life is good, so I went. I went, and heard just what I needed to hear about the spiritual path, the many roads to God (or not god), our incredible good fortune to be alive and sober on a cold winter morning.

At first glance, I may not seem to be a particularly spiritual person, as I drop the "f-bomb" perhaps several times in the course of a conversation, but that's what I've always appreciated about AA - for many of us, God is right here in the trenches with us. I don't raise my hand to Jesus, or pray towards Mecca, or keep Kosher. I don't follow the particular tenets of any one sect, growing up in a non-practicing house of an Episcopalian who was angry at God and a Christian Scientist who smoked and drank. In my home, thanks to my dear Mother, God was a Loving and forgiving presence. Yes, there were rules, but less about vices than about doing unto others as you would have done unto you. I'm grateful that I didn't have "God as Punisher" to wade through once I got sober. It was confusing at first, this "God as I understand God," but over time, that non-understanding has grown into a comfortable and comforting relationship.

I thought about our 12 Step programs as I completed a half marathon this weekend. At the front of the pack were the gazelles, those runners built for grace and speed, with people larger and slower as the minutes clicked by. And then, in the rear, me and my cohort - walking some, jogging some, greeting all of the volunteers and thanking the cops who were there to block off the streets. Kind of like AA, where we've got our well-heeled members and those who are on the streets or just a few rungs up, those who run marathons, those in wheelchairs, and those in-between - a veritable cross section. And each of us has our own definition of the Higher Power that keeps us coming back. Sure, there are parameters, and the program was started by a couple of Protestant men, but Bill W knew that we are a rebellious bunch, and intentionally did his best to remove dogma from the program's suggestions.

I thrive on conversation and exploration of the spiritual lessons we are presented with. I am comfortable in the glory where I find it, though obviously, bristling at any attempt, intended or otherwise, to imply that it isn't enough. The God of my understanding is huge, and all inclusive, and wears many faces or none at all. I am grateful for the freedom of expression I am allowed through our program.  (& a note to my atheist friends - I do know, by your example, that one can be devout and appreciate the sacred without believing in a god of any kind)

Has your relationship with a Higher Power of your understanding changed over time? How do you respond if someone challenges your practice?