“If we examine every disturbance we have, great or small, we will find at the root of it some unhealthy dependency and its consequent unhealthy demand. Let us, with God’s help, continually surrender these hobbling liabilities.
“Then we can be free to live and love; we may then be able to twelfth step ourselves, as well as others, into emotional sobriety.”
-As Bill Sees It p. 288
I was speaking to a friend from a small town in Ohio. He is both a firefighter and an EMT in the fire department. As I have never had a real conversation with a firefighter before, I found his stories both interesting and saddening. While we expect firemen to have great stories of heroism and adventure, saving people from fires and horrible car crashes, I was surprised to learn that he spent most of his working hours helping the sick in their homes. Many of these people were actually repeat callers—calling 911 over and over again for the same physical problems. Some were elderly—some were not. But all of them fell into a trap in their thinking: that they could do nothing to improve their own lives. Instead, they needed someone to rescue them.
How many times in my life have I expected others to rescue me? The answer is all of the time before I got sober. While I didn’t call 911, I leaned heavily on people—my family, colleagues, friends—literally anyone who would listen. I used people over and over in my excessive complaining about life problems. And these kind people would try to help me. But then I would do nothing to change. I was completely unwilling to take a single action to better my life. Certainly I didn’t think booze was a problem—it was my marriage, my job, my son, blah, blah, blah. The problem was never me.
What I failed to realize at the time was my own powerlessness.
Alcohol had taken over my life and warped my thinking. It also froze me in despair and hopelessness. I didn’t just want to be rescued—I needed to be rescued, because I sure couldn’t rescue myself. But the great people I was leaning on were all humans with human power. They didn’t really have any more power to save me than I had to save myself.
I had to have God’s help.
I explained to my firefighter friend that these people who kept calling and then did nothing to change their health were not doing it purposely. Like me, they were relying on a human power to fix them. While firefighters are amazing, they are still human. And as Bill W. describes above, our dependency on human power never works. We have to be willing to do the heavy lifting of recovery ourselves—no matter what type of recovery is needed: physical, emotional, or spiritual.
Life in sobriety is no different. I haven’t a drink in many years, and yet I am living this life. And in life there will be problems: sickness, unemployment, problems with relationships and children, finances. And when these problems hit, I still want someone else to rescue me. I reach out to sponsors, friends, and family and expect them to solve my problem. Once again I have forgotten that these are human powers. I have also forgotten that I am responsible for my own life. But, most importantly, I have forgotten God. God is the only Higher Power with enough knowledge, strength, perseverance, love, and power to actually save me from whatever my present circumstances are.
And so I pray and am willing to take a look at myself. God and I can do what I could never imagine doing alone. I am responsible for making the necessary changes needed for a better life—and this is God’s will for me today. I may experience extreme pain and uncertainty during this process, but if I hang in there, things will work out for my own good.
Thank you to my friend for sharing his story and to all of the firefighters, paramedics, EMT’s, and police for everything you do for people who often do not appreciate you. I am praying for you today and every day, that God will keep you safe, protected, and loved. Amen.