Inspiration for Recovery

T’was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer

Thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin,

But he held it up with a smile:

“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,

“Who’ll start bidding for me?”

“A dollar, a dollar”;  then, “Two!” “Only two?

Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?

Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;

Going for three —”  But no,

From the room, far back, a gray-haired man

Came forward and picked up the bow;

Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,

And tightening the loose strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet

As as a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said;  “What am I bid for the old violin?”

And he held it up with the bow.

“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?

Two thousand!  And who’ll make it three?

Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice,

And going, and gone” said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,

“We do not quite understand

What changed its worth.”  Swift came the reply:

“           The touch of the master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune,

And battered and scattered with sin,

Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,

Much like the old violin.

A “mess of pottage,”  a glass of wine;

A game — and he travels on.

He is “going” once, and “going” twice,

He’s “going” and almost “gone.”

But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd

Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul, and the change that’s wrought

By the touch of the Master’s hand.

-         Myra Brooks Welch

Why We Were Chosen

GOD in His wisdom selected this group of men and women to be purveyors of His goodness. In selecting them through whom to bring about this phenomenon, He went not to the proud, the mighty, the famous or the brilliant. He went instead to the humble, to the sick, to the unfortunate. He went right to the drunkard, the so-called weakling of the world. Well might He have said to us:

Unto your weak and feeble hands I have entrusted a power beyond estimate. To you has been given that which has been denied the most learn-ed of your fellows. Not to scientists or statesmen, not to wives or mothers, not even to my priests or ministers have I given this gift of healing other alcoholics which I entrust to you.

It must be used unselfishly; it carries with it grave responsibility. No day can be too long; no demands upon your time can be too urgent; no case be too pitiful; no task too hard; no effort too great. It must be used with tolerance for I have restricted its application to no race, no creed, and no denomination. Personal criticism you must expect; lack of appreciation will be common; ridicule will be your lot; your motives will be misjudged. You must be prepared for adversity, for what men call adversity is the ladder you must use to ascend the rungs toward spiritual perfection, and remember, in the exercise of this power I shall not exact from you beyond your capabilities.

You are not selected because of exceptional talents, and be careful al-ways, if success attends your efforts not to ascribe to personal superiority that to which you can lay claim only by virtue of my gift. If I had wanted learned men to accomplish this mission, the power would have been entrusted to the physician and scientist. If I had wanted eloquent men, there would have been many anxious for the assignment, for talk is the easiest used of all talents with which I have endowed mankind. If I had wanted scholarly men, the world is filled with better-qualified men than you who would be available. You were selected because you have been the outcasts of the world and your long experience as drunkards has made or should make you humbly alert to the cries of distress that come from the lonely hearts of alcoholics everywhere.

Keep ever in mind the admission you made on the day of your profession in AA- namely that you are powerless and that it was only with your willingness to turn your life and will unto my keeping that relief came to you.

Anonymous

O’ Lord, I am worried; I know that it does no good to worry, but I cannot shake it off.

It not only does no good to worry it does harm.

What I cannot change, I cannot change.

But meanwhile if I am this caught up in worry

I am apt to do poorly what I could do well.

Help me to trust to you those concerns beyond my reach.

So that I may give my full attention to living each moment as it comes.

May there always be work for your hands to do;

May your purse always hold a coin or two;

May the sun always shine on your windowpane;

May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;

May the hand of a friend always be near you;

May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

Work like you don’t need the money.

Love like you’ve never been hurt.

Dance like nobody’s watching.

Sing like nobody’s listening.

Live like it’s Heaven on Earth.

His name was Fleming, and  he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman’s sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Flem-ing had saved.

“I want to repay you,” said the nobleman. “You saved my son’s life.”

“No, I can’t accept payment for what I did,” the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer’s own son came to the door of the family hovel.

“Is that your son?” the nobleman asked.

“Yes,” the farmer replied proudly.

“I’ll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he’ll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.” And that he did.

Farmer Fleming’s son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary’s Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman’s son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son’s name?

Sir Winston Churchill.

A time comes in your life when you finally get it. . . when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out – ENOUGH!

Enough of fighting and crying or struggling to hold on. And, like a child quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening . . .

You realize it’s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change…or for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon.

You come to terms with the fact that you are neither Prince Charming or Cinderella and that in the real world there aren’t always fairy tale endings (or beginnings for that matter) and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you…and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are … and that’s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions. And you learn the importance of loving and championing yourself…and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

You stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you (or didn’t do for you) and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and that it’s not always about you. So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself…and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties..and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You realize that much of the way you view yourself, and the world around you, is as a result of all the messages and opinions that have been ingrained into your psyche. And you begin to sift through all the junk you’ve picked up from the garbage dump of others about how you should behave, how you should look, how much you should weigh, what you should wear, what you should do for a living, how much money you should make, what you should drive, how and where you should live, who you should marry, the importance of having and raising children, and what you owe your parents, family, and friends.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. And you begin re-assessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you’ve outgrown … and in the process you learn to go with your instincts.

You learn that it is truly in giving that we receive. And that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” looking for your next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don’t know everything, it’s not your job to save the world and that you can’t teach a pig to sing.

You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You learn that the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about LOVE. How to love, how much to give in love, when to stop giving and when to walk away.

You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. And you learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs. You learn that feelings of entitlement are perfectly OK….and that it is your right to want things and to ask for the things you want … and that sometimes it is necessary to make demands.

You come to the realization that you de-serve to be treated with love, kindness, sensitivity and respect and you won’t settle for less. And you learn that your body really is your temple. And you begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drink more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you believe you deserve…and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen. More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance.

You also learn that no one can do it all alone….and that it’s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is the greatest robber baron of all: FEAR itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms. And you learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn’t always fair, you don’t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people. On these occasions you learn not to personalize things.

You learn that God isn’t punishing you or failing to answer your prayers. It’s just life happening.

And you learn to deal with evil in its most primal state – the EGO.

You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Slowly, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself. You make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than your heart’s desire. And you hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind. And you make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

Finally, with courage in your heart and God by your side you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best you can.

by Denise M. “Sonny” Carroll

If you woke up this morning with more health than sickness, you are luckier than the million that will not survive this week.

If you have never experienced a war, a loneliness, an imprisonment, an agony of torture, or a famine, you are happier than 500 million persons in this world.

If you are able to go to church, mosque or synagogue without fear of harassment, arrest, torture, or death, you are happier, than 3 billion persons in this world.

If there is a meal in your refrigerator,

If you are dressed and have got shoes,

If you have a bed and a roof above your head,

you are better off, than 75% of people in this world.

If your parents are still alive and still married, you are a rarity.

If you have a bank account, money in your purse, and there is some trifle in your coin box,  you belong to 8% of well-provided people in this world.

If you read this text, you are blessed three times as much, because

Someone was told once:

Work like you don’t need money,

Love like you’ve never been hurt,

Dance like nobody’s watching,

Sing like nobody’s listening,

Be surprised, like you were born yesterday,

Tell the truth and you don’t have to remember anything,

Live like it’s Heaven on Earth.

This is your World!

You are able to make changes!

Hasten to do good works!

Think of it!

Let us not be stopped by that which divides us but look for that which unites us. If we could reduce the world’s population to a village of precisely 100 people–with all existing ratios remaining the same–demographics would look something like this:

60 Asians

12 Europeans

5 U.S. Americans and Canadians

8 Latin Americans

14 Africans

49 would be female

51 would be male

82 would be non-white

18 white

89 heterosexual

11 homosexual

33 would be Christian

67 would be non-Christian

5 would control 32% of the entire world’s wealth, and all of them would be US citizens

80 would live in substandard housing

24 would not have any electricity

(And of the 76% that do have electricity, most would only use it for light at night.)

67 would be unable to read

1 (only one) would have a college education

50 would be malnourished and 1 dying of starvation

33 would be without access to a safe water supply

1 would have HIV

1 near death, 2 would be near birth

7 people would have access to the Internet

If to take a look at the world from this condensed perspective, the need for acceptance, understanding and education becomes evident.

An Apology For My Life

Sam Shoemaker

I stand by the door.

I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out.

The door is the most important door in the world.

It is the door through which men walk when they find God.

There is no use my going way inside and staying there,

When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,

Crave to know where the door is.

And all that so many ever find

Is only the wall where the door ought to be.

They creep along the wall like blind men,

With outstretched, groping hands,

Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,

Yet they never find it.

So I stand by the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world

Is for men to find that door – the door to God.

The most important thing that any man can do

Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands

And put it on the latch – the latch that only clicks

And opens to the man’s own touch.

Men die outside the door, as starving beggars die

On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter.

Die for want of what is within their grasp.

They live on the other side of it- live because they have not found it.

Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,

And open it, and walk in, and find Him.

So I stand by the door.

Go in great saints; go all the way in -

Go way down in the cavernous cellars,

And way up into the spacious attics.

It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.

Go into the deepest of hidden casements,

Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.

Some must inhabit those inner rooms

And know the depths and heights of God,

And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.

Sometimes I take a deeper look in.

Sometimes venture in a little farther,

But my place seems closer to the opening.

So I stand by the door.

There is another reason why I stand there.

Some people get part way in and become afraid

Lest God and the zeal of his house devour them;

For God is so very great and asks all of us.

And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia

And want to get out. “Let me out!” they  cry.

And the people way inside only terrify them more.

Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled.

For the old life, they have seen too much:

One taste of God and nothing God will do any more.

Somebody must be watching for the frightened

Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,

To tell the others how much better it is inside.

The people too far in do not see how near these are

To leaving preoccupied with the wonder of it all.

Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door

But would like to run away. So for them too

I stand by the door.

I admire the people who go way in.

But I wish they would not forget how it was

Before they got in. Then they would be able to help

The people who have not yet even found the door.

Or the people who want to run away again from God.

You can go too deeply and stay in too long

And forget the people outside the door.

As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place.

Near enough to God to hear Him and know He is there.

But not so far from men as not to hear them,

And remember they are there too.

Where? Outside the door -

Thousands of them. Millions of them.

But – more important for me -

One of them, two of them, ten of them.

Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch

So I shall stand by the door and wait

For those who seek it.

I had rather be a door-keeper

So I stand by the door.