Finding a Connection
Igrew up in a religion that taught me to fear God. I never felt I was good enough. I always had to do better to earn my way into heaven. When my mom was ex-communicated from our church in a public meeting, I slammed the door on any spiritual connection. I was 17 years old and weighed around 150 pounds. It wasn’t until 30 years later and weighing in at 303 pounds that the spiritual door was finally
opened again.
I was 47 years old when FA found me. I began my abstinence on a Tuesday morning. My sponsor told me to sit quietly for 30 minutes every morning. Other than telling me to read my Twenty-Four Hour a Day book, she did not offer any other guidance. My willingness allowed me to try meditating every morning, but during the first five times, I woke up when the
DIANA
timer went off. I did not understand how to find a God of my own understanding, let alone how to connect with and pray to that God. On day five, I attended a Saturday morning meeting, and it was the first time I heard someone qualify. As the speaker shared, she explained that she got connected to a higher power through nature and animals. I rushed up to her at the break to ask questions. I cannot tell you exactly what she said, but I heard the word “cat”. At the time I had three cats, or as I like to call them, my furry children.
The next morning during my quiet time, Morris, my orange tom cat jumped into my lap, lay down completely relaxed, and began purring loudly. The thought struck me, What if I could imagine a power greater than myself that loved me as much as I loved my cat? I took it a step further and tried to imagine myself being vulnerable enough to trust that if I relaxed and rested in the lap of that higher power, I would feel loved for the first time in my life. That was the first time I did not fall asleep during my quiet time. What a difference 24 hours can make.
Today, more than three-and-a-half years later, my connection to a higher power continues to evolve and deepen. Morris still sits in my lap most mornings, and I am grateful for a living, breathing, purring reminder of how I got in touch with my higher power.
Kathleen G., California, US
One last subtle mention… JOIN US AT CONVENTION!
Are you a crossword sage? Look for hints on the FA website homepage.
Living in Recovery
Istruggled trying to control my weight and food for most of my adult life. I felt complete despair and an underlying hatred of myself. My food addiction made me turn on myself and I felt broken.
I was in another Twelve-Step program for food for 17 years, where I tried hard to follow a food plan, including no !our and no sugar. I was never abstinent, but I kept trying. I knew sugar and !our were drugs for me. I never had those items in my home, thinking I could stay abstinent that way. But every week, I would be hit by a craving and drive to the grocery store, get a cart, and head toward the aisles with !our and sugar. I would tear open a large package and eat the contents fast. I would struggle to leave some food in the package. O"en, I went to the cashiers with empty packages. I was irritated when other shoppers stopped or slowly moved their carts. ey were in my way, and I wanted to shout at them. I was in a frenzy. As I ate my !our and sugar, I felt relief, followed by shame. A"er I paid, I ate what was le" before I reached my car or threw the remains in the garbage. My ravenous craving was satis ed in the moment. When I had binges, I initially felt good. e craving, tension, and anxiety melted away, but
slowly I felt the shame and remorse come back. During this period, I was in an eating disorder group and seeing a psychiatrist for depression. I had periods of bulimia and anorexia. I weighed 201 pounds when I was pregnant and !uctuated between 120 and 190 pounds over the years. I was amazed that women could stay the same size for years. How did they do it?
I have a long history of depression and anxiety starting as a teenager when I was dating my rst boyfriend and became pregnant. I was 16 and he was 18. Motivated by a desire to avoid the shame and guilt I felt, we got married. e child was born in the seventh month of my pregnancy and did not survive. I never grieved this loss. I lived with my in-laws in another town, away from my family. I dropped out of school and had no friends. is was the beginning of my mental illness and periods of being out of control with food.
A"er my divorce, I moved across the country to follow a man who, like me, was an addict. My depression and anxiety increased but I refused to seek help. I was sure I would do better in a new city and a new relationship. at relationship fell apart and my bingeing
increased. I had no network of people to support me. I felt alone. I spent weekends with my !our and sugar items in bed. I cried and felt utter despair, but the food seemed to be my solace. One Monday, when I went back to work, I could not zip up my pants. I lost weight, met another man, and thought I was ne. I had mood swings and terrible bouts of depression, but I just adapted to it. My bingeing increased. I also started to eat other people’s food. I worked in residential homes and had access to the baked goods in the freezer. I would sneak down into the basement and eat, then try to rearrange what was le" so no one could see. One of the sta came in one day and said that someone was eating the baked goods and accused one of the clients. I was so relieved that someone else was blamed, not me.
I came into FA at age 53. I was unhappy. I was about 43 pounds overweight. My husband and I had a di cult relationship; I was depressed and critical of him. Later, I saw my
part in this marriage. I was the di cult one! Coming into that rst FA meeting, I was at my bottom. I had tried everything, and I knew I was out of control. I needed help. I came to accept that my food addiction was a mental illness, not just a food problem. I thought that to get through the rst 90 days abstinently, I would have to be locked in a cell and have someone bring me abstinent food so I couldn’t access a store or a refrigerator! I was amazed when I looked into the faces of my FA fellows and saw peacefulness and clear eyes. ey spoke with a humble kind of condence. I wanted it so badly. I got a sponsor and started to work the program. I was worried that I could not stay abstinent. When I had ve days of abstinence, I was so excited and hopeful. I got on my knees and prayed to my Higher Power with such gratitude. I did my tools each day. I always had di culty with being late or just barely on time. Trying to be on time for work meant I drove as fast as I could. I was late for
ANGIE R., NY
dentist and doctor appointments. I made excuses and was so stressed I vowed I would never do that again, but I did.
In FA, I had to be on time for my sponsor call at 7:00 am. I was consistently on time. I also learned to be ten minutes early for my FA meetings. I felt that I had integrity. I was on time for appointments. I felt so grateful to my sponsor and especially my Higher Power. I became more reliable in other areas of my life. I showed up for friends on time. My relationship with my husband has always been challenging, but I now have the tools to deal with it.
A"er 10 days of abstinence, I was at home by myself, and a craving hit me hard. I knew I was going to run to the store for a binge, and I felt powerless. I was sobbing because I could feel this frenzy in me. en I remembered being told to pray to God. And I did. I asked God to help me. I did not want to go back to the pain of food addiction. e craving passed and I realized I was still abstinent. I did not act on it, which felt like a miracle. I was a slave to cravings and yet here I was—abstinent. I thanked God for this miracle.
I did my quiet time and started to feel some peace and serenity. Abstinence was from the grace of God and not something that I worked hard for. All I had to do was surrender and let my sponsor guide me. I started to experience neutrality with food and the cravings diminished. e most amazing tool I
had was three phone calls a day. I had been emotionally isolated for so long even though I was in the presence of people most of the time. It was di cult to reach out and talk to strangers. My fear, doubt, and insecurity caused me to anticipate rejection from my fellows. I worried that I was not worthy enough to receive the gi"s that other FA members had. Instead, I was met with loving and stable people who o ered wonderful words of support. How was this possible?
I also started to realize that my behavior around food was an addiction and a mental illness. Now I understand my problem and have a solid solution. My relationship with friends has improved because I am more reliable. My house is much cleaner. Every day I wake up and express my gratitude for what I have.
A"er about six years in FA, I was diagnosed as bipolar. I surrendered to the diagnosis and treatment. I realized how this illness a ected me over the years with suicidal thoughts and impulsive decisions. I stayed abstinent all through this period, and today I feel healthy and stable. I wake up in the morning grateful that I am not struggling with debilitating depression. I am abstinent and not struggling with cravings, by the grace of God. It requires trust and surrender, but I can pray for those daily, as well as humility, because I know this disease is cunning, ba'ing, and powerful. Valerie R., Calgary, Canada
Sunny Side
Acouple of years ago, a"er returning from a trip to Aruba, my AfricanAmerican primary care physician diagnosed me with sun poisoning. I thought she was joking. She explained that the tiny yet very itchy bumps that had formed around my collarbone and upper chest area were my skin’s reaction to the sun’s powerful UV rays.
I was ba'ed. I am a mixed-race person, including Black, Asian, and African American. I have melanated skin. I was taught that I couldn’t get sunburnt. So, the thought of sun poisoning never crossed my mind, and the idea that the rash atop my golden brown tanned skin was from the sun (the source of my tan) was troubling. I love tanning. I love the sun. I love being in the sun. Would this mean I could no longer spend time tanning on a sunny day?
My doctor explained that—moving forward—it would be best for me to apply sunblock or sunscreen during the spring and summer months or whenever I planned to spend time in the sun. She also shared a list of other symptoms and risk factors commonly associated with sun poisoning and made additional suggestions. is news felt too much, too fast, and too soon. Plus, I had other trips lined up and did not want to be slowed down by needing to purchase, pack, and apply sunblock.
At that point, I was not willing to take her suggestions. As if she heard my thoughts, she said that sun poisoning is from an allergic reaction to the sun. at made me pause. I had an awareness: I am allergic to !our, sugar, and quantities of food and to the sun’s powerful UV rays.
ere isn’t a cure for food addiction, but there is a solution. When I travel abroad, I plan, prepare, and protect my abstinence. I pack the necessary food and when I reach my destination, go grocery shopping. I pack my food journal, food scale, measuring spoon, and digital copies of the FA literature I read daily. I continue to work the FA tools. Similarly, I don’t believe there is a cure for sun poisoning, but perhaps sunblock could be my solution. My doctor’s warning started to make sense.
During my next trip abroad, I took my doctor’s suggestion and used sunblock. I decided to treat it like one of the FA tools. Not only did my partner help me generously apply the creamy lotion on every inch of my exposed skin, but also applied it to her own body, and I didn’t feel so awkward. In the end, I spent my fortieth birthday on the beach in Ipanema and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, exposed to lots of sun. I didn’t develop an itchy rash!
e sun, like food, is everywhere I travel. And like food, the sun can be nourishing and life-a rming as long as I accept my allergy and make choices that support my health. I do not have to avoid the sun or stop tanning, but I do have to apply sunscreen to protect my skin from the powerful UV rays.
My food addiction a ects every area of my life, but so does my recovery. So, like the guidelines I receive in FA, this simple sugges-
tion from my doctor (which con!icted with what I was taught as a child and, in all fairness, was endorsed when the ozone layer was not as depleted), allowed me to enjoy time with my partner on the beach in Brazil, in the sun. I came back home with the best tan and the best memories. I am beyond grateful to my Higher Power! Simple suggestions are the best suggestions.
Jessica R., Washington DC, US
JESSICA R., DC
Fresh Start
Irecently went back to day one in FA after being in Program for over a decade. I was finally able to be honest about eating more food than I committed. A new start is allowing me to see that my approach to recovery has changed over the years, while my addiction has been constant. My food addiction corrupts my mind and spirit when I get complacent about the food or the tools. I gained back 25 of the 140 pounds I initially lost.
During the first six years of abstinence in FA, I developed a peace within myself around the choice I made every day to abstain from flour and sugar. However, I did not develop the same peace around quantities.
back.
I place my recovery in the “middle” and build my life around it and nothing tastes as good as abstinence feels.
Sometime in my sixth year, my disease crept back in—not in a big, bold, binge moment, but in many little ways that chipped away at my honesty, first with myself, and then with others. At that point, I started to use FA as a no-flour, no-sugar diet, and the mental obsession over what I was eating and what I weighed came
Two things I used to share at meetings or when I qualified were that I was guided to place my recovery in the “middle” and build my life around it and nothing tastes as good as abstinence feels. When complacency set in, I didn’t have my recovery in the middle. I continued to believe I was abstinent because I didn’t pick up flour or sugar. When I ate out in a restaurant and ate more than I should, I downplayed the quantities and promised myself I would do better next time. There was no peace in this because I would mentally obsess about what I had eaten and then find myself planning how to schedule more restaurant meals and fantasize about the foods I would order.
My daily use of the tools slowly diminished, and I realized I was around the program, not in it. I started telling my family I was disillusioned with FA, that I didn’t understand how I could eat abstinently and gain weight. I was in deep denial. I contemplated leaving the program be-
cause it wasn’t working for me. That’s about the same time I stopped saying that nothing tasted as good as abstinence feels. My focus was on food, not recovery. I didn’t have my integrity, and contented abstinence was not possible during that time.
Putting recovery back in the middle of my life meant returning to day one with a new sponsor and being a newcomer again. Recently, I admitted I needed help and the willingness to surrender what I think I know. I needed to seek guidance by asking questions, big or small. If I wondered whether a particular food or behavior was abstinent, I talked about it with my sponsor.
My recovery is now changing again, as I have come to want to do all the tools of the program, and I am, thanks to my Higher Power, finding the humility to be honest about my feelings and my food. For the first time in 10 years, I appreciate that I get to use these tools. They are gifts, not chores.
I now realize I had not used the tool of sponsor correctly for years. My pride held me back from being honest. I withheld information that would incriminate me and I didn’t want to hear my sponsor’s perspective because I didn’t want to stop making non-abstinent food choices in restaurants.
There was never anything wrong with FA. I was disillusioned with myself and unwilling to face the truth that I had broken my abstinence repeatedly and lied to my sponsor by not admitting what I was doing. Although I experienced the freedom and peace that living cleanly and honestly brought to me early in recovery, over time I reverted to old patterns of behavior and lived in fear of being exposed. This affected me mentally.
I will always be a food addict. The choice I get to make daily is to continue to grow and evolve in recovery, not stagnate in my disease.
Susie L., California, US
VICTORIA D., NH
A New Me
As an African American woman, my relationship with food was intertwined with the unique pressures and challenges I faced. I grew up in a culture where food was o"en a symbol of comfort, a way of celebrating or coping in a world that didn’t always make space for us. But over the years, food became something di erent for me—a way to numb the shame, fear, and burden of expectations.
For years I felt like a prisoner in my own body, shackled by an addiction to food that I didn’t understand and couldn’t control. Every overeating episode le" me drowning in guilt and self-hatred. I saw food as my comfort and enemy; something that gave me temporary relief, only to plunge me deeper into shame once the plates were empty. e cycle was relentless, and the harder I tried to break free, the tighter it seemed to grip me.
Looking and acting like my mentally ill father was a burden I carried my whole life. I turned to alcohol and food to numb the pain, unaware at rst that food addiction was as real as my drinking problem. Although the Twelve Steps helped me break free from alcohol, my relationship with food remained a secret source of shame. I binged alone, hiding my eating habits from others, and o ering excuses when my clothes no longer t.
I wasn’t severely overweight, but my body was telling me something was wrong. I had prediabetes and high cholesterol. It was never just about the food. It was about lling an emptiness I didn’t know how to heal.
I didn’t know what recovery from this addiction to food even looked like until I stepped into my rst FA meeting. It felt like I had stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary. I was nally among my people; the ones who understood. e air in that room was thick with shared struggle and quiet hope. For the rst time, I felt a sense of belonging. e community, the program, and the Steps opened my eyes to a simple yet profound truth: food addiction wasn’t a re!ection of my worth and recovery wasn’t about achieving perfection. It was about progress, self-compassion, and building a new healthier relationship with food and myself.
FA taught me that food addiction is a disease, not a moral failing. Like other forms of addiction, it requires a structured program of recovery. I started to follow the FA plan, which included abstinence from certain trigger foods and adopting a food plan that supported my health.
One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned is that recovery isn’t about being perfect. For years I equated my self-worth with
my ability to follow diets, maintain a certain weight, or control my eating. But I have learned that my value doesn’t come from how well I manage food. Instead, it comes from recognizing my humanity, my resilience, and my capacity for growth. In the early days of recovery, I would beat myself up for every imperfection. But I’ve come to see those moments as opportunities for learning.
Today, I no longer use food to numb my emotions or ll a void. Food is fuel for my body and something to be enjoyed—without the guilt and shame that used to accompany every meal. By following the FA food plan, I’ve found structure and freedom at the same time. I know what nourishes me and I’ve learned to trust myself around food again.
FA’s program is about so much more than just food. It’s about rediscovering my selfworth and reclaiming my life from the grips of addiction. Every day of abstinence is a victory and I’ve learned to celebrate progress, no matter how small. In FA, we don’t measure success by the number on the scale or the calories on the plate. We measure it by the inner peace we cultivate through recovery.
Looking back, I hardly recognize the person I was, the one who saw food as a battleground and myself as a failure. FA has shown me a di erent way of living, one where I approach food and life with self-love, not selfloathing. It’s been a long journey, but every step has been worth it.
Maude H., Maryland,
US
A Layover
Ihad a short layover at an airport on my way to visit my sponsor to do a Fi"h Step. I lived in Europe years ago, long before FA, and I had many layovers at this airport. It was o"en my rst stop back on US soil a"er forgoing my favorite American foods for months. A"er landing, I thought about the food items I had missed and craved. Back then, I simply had to eat at this airport during layovers. I also remembered occasions when there wasn’t enough time between !ights to get my x. I’d be cranky, angry, and potentially nasty to the airline sta and my traveling companions.
Today, as I walked from one gate to the next, seeing the familiar restaurants and food kiosks, I thought, I used to eat such and such there and I’d eat whatever was there. is morning, I sat in the departure lounge and ate the abstinent breakfast I had prepared and packed last night instead of wandering frantically from one place to another, wondering what goodie would give me the biggest hit. I remained calm when my boarding pass wouldn’t scan, waited patiently in line for a deca einated hot beverage, and felt deep gratitude that I had an extra dollar to donate to the woman ahead of me who was 60 cents short. ank you God, this is my life today.
Beth-Ann W., New York, US
Enough
Ialways worried about what other people thought of me. I could hardly have a conversation with someone without obsessing about what I did or didn’t say long a"er the interaction ended.
I have a disease of “not enough,” and I always worried about my lack of contribution in everything I did. I was never able to produce enough at work, care enough about my son’s education, attend enough sporting events, volunteer my time, exercise enough to stay thin, or make enough money.
When it came to food, there was also never enough. No matter what I was eating, it didn’t satisfy the gaping hole I was trying to ll. I have a history of bulimia, so in addition to not having enough, I was also riddled with shame, guilt, and remorse a"er eating. It was a vicious cycle. Anytime an uncomfortable feeling came to the surface, I would push it down with food.
My food addiction disease was progressive, and in my teens and twenties, I managed my weight with overexercising and bouts of purging. I also tried to manage my food addiction with cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine, and diet pills. But things only kept getting worse. I could no longer control my weight with exercise because I got injured from the extra pounds I was carrying.
I was introduced to FA in my late twenties while consulting with an eating disorder counselor. It wasn’t until ve increasingly di cult years later that I nally came into FA.
I’ve been in FA for three years and live much di erently than I did before. I show up as my authentic self and don’t spend too much time worrying about what I did or didn’t say. I o er to do service when I can and I recognize my boundaries. I moved into a work position that better aligns with who I am and supports my recovery and this way of life.
My life has gotten much simpler and more meaningful. I keep my food simple and life feels abundant. My relationship with a higher power continues to deepen with each day that I ask for help staying abstinent, and somehow, miraculously, I do.
I don’t have to abuse myself with food now, and I am gratefully aware of all the ups and downs that this beautiful life has to o er. I have the tools needed to consciously guide me to the next right action. If it were not for this program and our way of life, I am convinced that things would be very different for me. I am grateful to FA, my fellows, and, most of all, to my higher power. Reegan H., Maine, US
Constant Hunger
It was December, and I thought it would be nice if I made baked goods for my husband's workplace. I whipped up di erent kinds of treats over several days, putting batches in the freezer. Before I knew it, I was eating frozen sweets by the spoonful, and I needed to make a few more batches since I wanted enough for his work. e baking began again, but so did the eating. I made myself sick, and when I felt better, I ate more. It was a repeat of the many times in my past when I would binge until I was nauseous.
My car was a common place to hide and eat. I had wrappers in the doors, center console, and garbage on the !oor. I always felt hungry and deprived. It was as though I had a tapeworm that constantly needed feeding. Any private space was an opportunity to ll my craving.
I found FA one June through an ad in the local newspaper. At 5 feet, 5 inches tall, I weighed 225 pounds. When I attended my rst meeting, I couldn't believe everyone was thin, since I had visualized people who weighed 500-600 pounds. I heard members talk about their fear, doubt, and insecurity and I could identify with all three. My earliest memories included fear. My sisters would say, "Oh, she is just shy," but I was frightened of everything and everyone.
I lost 30 pounds in the rst three months and I couldn’t believe it. However, the euphoria wore o and the doubt crept in. I questioned myself. Am I a food addict? Can I live without all the foods I love? Am I self-centered? Will this program change my life?
Eventually, all the negativity prompted me to leave FA the following year. I needed to do more research. During that time, I learned that eating !our and sugar created uncontrollable cravings and binges that I couldn’t stop on my own, which took a toll on my body, mind, and spirit.
I am very grateful that I returned to FA about two years ago, and things have changed. Today, I have a sponsor, and I use the tools of the program. I never thought God would help me with my food addiction, but today I can turn to my Higher Power. I weigh about 130 pounds, and for the rst time in decades, I can wear the same pants from the previous season.
Food addiction caused so many problems. My knee constantly hurt and replacement was the next option. Now my pain is gone. Most of the promises of the program have already come true for me. No one ever said dealing with food addiction would be easy, but I am grateful to have a solution.
Laura J., Ohio, US
Living rough Loss
My early childhood memories of food involved someone very close to me—my grandmother. Just recently I lost my grandma. I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would make it through any family member’s death abstinently, especially someone who was that close to me.
I got the call on a Sunday morning. I was at the emergency room with my heroin-addict adult child, who was battling a staph infection. I cried and just felt a sadness that swept over my body. My first thought was, What should I eat so I can numb out from this sadness? The next thoughts were, I am not going to give up my abstinence. No food is going to comfort this sadness. Grandma was so happy for my recov-
ery, she would not have wanted me to eat over this. I sat with the raw feelings of loss for a few moments and then excused myself to make an outreach call. It helped to talk and get these feelings up and out with someone who understood.
KATHERINE S., GA
On my way home, I made a few more calls. I remember just feeling so much sadness in my heart and the loss of someone who had such an impact on my life. When I got home, I started writing a eulogy to read at my grandmother’s funeral. I worked on this for the week and made several changes, read it out loud daily, and asked God for the strength to share the eulogy with family and friends, without losing myself in the emotions that I had put on the paper.
When I traveled to grandma’s funeral, I made sure that all my food was in order, with the help of my sponsor. I arranged to have access to a kitchen and brought a cooler full of my food for the next couple of days.
I was able to stay abstinent through the funeral, to be present for my family, and to be of service to my grandmother. I read the eulogy I had written and was able to move past the emotions with the
Notable & Q uotable
You have probably heard one or more of these popular FA sayings. Use them as needed!
“I am enough, I have enough, I do enough.”
“ e de nition of hell is a head full of FA and a belly full of food.”
“I’m a human being, not a human doing.”
“As an addict, I am a relief-seeking missile.”
“If you turn it over without letting go, you’re upside down.”
strength of God. I realize that sometimes I still feel that sadness for the loss of my grandma, but the feelings just come and go.
One thing I know about my recovery is that food is never going to help me with whatever is going on in my life. What does help is weighing and measuring my food, so that I can be available to be of service to others around me.
Darla W., California, US
“Nothing changes if nothing changes.”
“Don't quit before the miracle happens.”
“When in doubt, leave it out.”
“Less is more.”
“Live in priority order: recovery rst, family second, job third.”
“ is, too, shall pass.”
“You can't think yourself into right action, but you can act yourself into right thinking.”
“Feelings are not facts.”
“I was an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.”
“Connection is the opposite of addiction.”
The Twelve Steps of A.A. are a group of spiritual principles, which, if practiced as a way of life, expel the obsession to drink and enable the su erer to become happily and usefully whole.
A.A.’s Twelve Traditions apply to the fellowship itself. ey outline how A.A. maintains its unity and relates itself to the world, the way it lives and grows.
To support the FA membership, the World Service Traditions Review Committee (TRC) is providing examples of questions they receive with responses that aim to o er guiding principles for each of the Twelve Traditions. is issue focuses on Tradition Four.
rupt fellowship unity and negatively a ect FA as a whole. Instead, individuals can apply for nancial aid through their FA intergroup.
Several FA members are planning a retreat. ey’d like to use the FA logo, place the retreat on the FA events calendar, and announce it at FA meetings. Does this con ict with any of our Traditions?
Tradition Four: Each group should be autonomous except in matters a ecting other groups or FA as a whole.
Tradition Four: Each group should be autonomous except in matters a ecting other groups or FA as a whole.
Our meeting wants to collect funds to send a fellow to the FA Business Convention. Is this in line with our Traditions?
Although FA meetings are autonomous, when they fundraise for an individual's travel expenses, personalities come into play and may lead to perceived inequities, which dis-
Labeling the retreat as an FA event, announcing it at meetings, and using the FA logo can misrepresent the retreat's independent nature. is a ects FA as a whole because it could confuse newcomers, who might mistakenly believe the retreat is an o cially sanctioned FA event. A newcomer may conclude that belonging to FA requires regular attendance at retreats. Retreats may involve participating in yoga or other group activities, which aren't part of FA. is could also be confusing for the newcomer. While the TRC encourages fellowship-building activities, we suggest contacting your Intergroup's Service Group Support Committee for guidelines on planning an FA-endorsed event.
No Rest For My Higher Power
My husband, perhaps the kindest, most understanding human I know, has the patience of a saint when dealing with sales and customer service people. As newlyweds, we went to the bank to open a joint checking account. Simple, right? Not exactly.
A"er waiting over an hour to see our banker, my blood began to boil. ings were not working out the way I thought they should. Oh, the incompetence! Meanwhile, hubby was his usual cool, calm, and collected self, breezily chatting with various bank employees, assuring them that everything was ne and not to worry about the delay. en I needed to use the restroom.
rooms.” What, I thought. A"er I delivered a snippy “Look! We’ve been here for over an hour,” the shaken employee succumbed, and I was escorted to the employees’ restroom. As he turned the key to let me in, a wave of embarrassment hit me. How could I be such a jerk? I knew I needed to pray.
Entering the restroom, my gaze fell on the back of the door as it shut behind me. I could not believe my eyes! e Serenity Prayer was taped to the door.
SUSAN M.,
NY
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the di erence.”
I had to laugh. Is my Higher Power looking out for me or what?
“Sorry, ma’am. We don’t have public rest-
Shannon K., New York, US
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the di erence.