Mysterious Ways

… Out of every season of grief are suffering, when the hand of God seemed heavy or even in jest, new lessons for living were learned, the resources of courage were uncovered, and that finally, inescapably, the conviction came that God does “move in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.”

After losing my career, family and health, I remain unconvinced that my way of life needed a second look. My addictions were killing me, but I had never met a recovering person or a celebrate recovery member. I thought I was destined to die alone and that I deserved it. At the peak of my despair, my infant daughter was diagnosed with a rare chromosome disorder. Doctors efforts to help her proved useless. I redouble my efforts to block my feelings, but now the alcohol had stopped working. I was left staring into God’s eyes, begging for help. My introduction to celebrate recovery came years later, through an odd series of coincidences, and I have remain sober ever since. My daughter lived and her chromosome disorder seems to be in remission. The entire episode convinced me of my powerlessness and the unmanageability of my life. Today my daughter and I thank God for His intervention.

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