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       About AA Grapevine

      “We have seen AAs suffer lingering and fatal illness with little complaint, and often in good cheer. … We have some members who never seem to get on their feet moneywise, and still others who encounter heavy financial reverses. Ordinarily we see these situations met with fortitude and faith.”

      — Essay on Step Twelve, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions

      All recovering alcoholics have had to deal with adversity at multiple points in sobriety. Defined as a state of hardship or affliction, adversity could be an ugly divorce, the death of a child, the loss of a house to fire (or to the bank), or the discovery that you have a serious illness. Despite the pain we are in when these tragedies strike, drinking is not an option. We cannot drink again, as it would only lead to worse calamity. For those who have gone through the Twelve Steps, perhaps two or more times, the answers should be obvious: We talk to our sponsor or other AAs. We go to more meetings. We turn it over to our Higher Power, however we define he, she, it or they. We help another alcoholic. Does it work?

      AA co-founder Bill W., sober for about 17 years by the time he penned Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, knew all too well the ups and downs of a sober life. In his essay on Step Twelve, he wrote: “How shall we come to terms with seeming failure or success? Can we now accept and adjust to either without despair or pride? Can we accept poverty, sickness, loneliness, and bereavement with courage and serenity? Can we steadfastly content ourselves with the humbler, yet sometimes more durable, satisfactions when the brighter, more glittering achievements are denied us?

      “The AA answer to these questions about living is ‘Yes, all of these things are possible.’ We know this because we see monotony, pain, and even calamity turned to good use by those who keep on trying to practice AA’s Twelve Steps,” he continued. “Of course all AAs, even the best, fall far short of such achievements as a consistent thing. Without necessarily taking that first drink, we often get quite far off the beam.”

      As the stories in this collection show, it is not just outside forces that spell adversity. Often the alcoholic’s trouble is of his own making—a resentment that won’t die, a bout of self-pity over not having a partner, a desire for revenge that the member cannot seem to extinguish. Or it is an untreated emotional difficulty coming to the surface, letting the AA know she must finally swallow her pride and seek help.

      Some things are in our power to change; others we have to simply accept. The AAs in the stories that follow have taken both paths. Some situations are very difficult to change, and if it’s acceptance that’s needed, acceptance might be a long time coming. But through prayer and meditation, making use of a particular Step, or working with others, each member finally reckons with his adversity.

      PHYSICAL ADVERSITY

      CHAPTER ONE

      Accepting the Unacceptable

      AAs share how they cope with persistent pain or lingering illness

      Chronic illness and near-constant pain can whittle away the spirit of even the most positive, loving and accepting AA member. Some write about the despair and hopelessness they felt upon learning of their condition. One member, dealing with a painful permanent condition, prayed about it, asking God if this was his idea of a sadistic joke. Another, considering suicide when her condition worsened, raged at her Higher Power, asking if he’d abandoned her. As time moved on, some got a little better and their pain was eased. But others simply took their illness one day at a time, staying close to AA and finding ways to remain useful, active members.

      With a new associate’s degree in human services, Army training as a behavioral science specialist, and three years of experience as a counselor, I was ready.

      But just as I began sending resumes to prospective employers, I became permanently disabled with a condition that frequently confines me to bed. After about two hours, I must take medication my doctor prescribes or pain forces me back into bed. I can spend about twenty minutes at the computer.

      I know the God of my understanding has a sense of humor; I’ve seen examples all of my life, but didn’t recognize it until I got sober. So when I prayed, I said, “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s sadistic. (Poor me, poor me.) Father, did you really carry me all this way just to drop me?” It didn’t sound like the God of my understanding.

      I continued with my “poor me” attitude for a while, hoping that medical treatment would help me get back to work. I spent—or wasted—about six months with this mind-set and let my character defects run the show.

      While meditating one afternoon, I remembered some advice given by the late actor Bruce Lee: “Turn the stumbling block into a stepping-stone.”

      I examined my motives. Had I chosen the human services field for recognition? Was I looking to inflate my ego? Or did I have an honest desire to help those in need? I thought about my time as a counselor in the army. Although I frequently received commendations, I realized that my real reward came the moment I saw the light of hope replace the look of despair in a soldier’s eyes.

      I prayed and meditated again, asking God for direction. How could I serve his will rather than my own?

      That same night, I got a phone call from a longtime acquaintance in the Fellowship. It was three o’clock in the morning, and she was in a hopeless state of despair. I got dressed and drove to her house. We sat at her kitchen table and talked for more than three hours. Now, that’s what I call a fast response from my Higher Power!

      I suddenly understood that even in bed I could answer my phone. I knew our local AA hotline had trouble getting volunteers. Calls were forwarded from the intergroup office to a member’s home phone, or even a cell phone. Because I wasn’t working, I was available twenty-four hours a day.

      I got a glimpse of God’s will for me: I could be a hand of AA. I made it known—especially to newcomers—that I was available twenty-four hours a day. Happily, I reached out to newcomers, sponsees, and even some of those who had been sober for “a few twenty-four hours.”

      Not only do I feel useful and productive again, I also feel that I am carrying out God’s will, which is not too different from my own. Sometimes we get what we ask for, but not always in the way we imagine. The stumbling block of an inability to work became a stepping-stone to doing what I love best—helping those in a state of crisis.

      If I have learned anything from this experience, it’s to have faith and look for clues to the will of my Higher Power. I also need to keep my ego out of the way and let God drive the bus. I do it one day at a time, one step at a time—even if the stepping-stone at first looks like a stumbling block.

      ED S.

      Scranton, Pennsylvania

      (From Dear Grapevine)

      I’ve been in AA for nearly two years. In the beginning, I couldn’t understand why people were always saying that they were sober “by the grace of God.” Now, after going through some rough times, I’ve learned a lot.

      In June of 1994, I got very sick and found out I had full-blown AIDS; I had not known I was HIV positive. I lost weight rapidly, going from 168 to 139 pounds in two weeks. At that point, the Third Step came to me right away. I turned my life and will over to the care of God as I understood him. And you know, things do get better.

      Now I have two diseases, one being alcoholism and the other being AIDS. But there is still no reason for me to drink!

      LARRY E.

      Pahrump, Nevada

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