Working Step 12 while at the same time grieving the loss of my wife has placed me in bitter-sweet settings. I am often asked to participate on Al-Anon panels in recovery institutions. Frequently I visit rehabilitation homes for alcoholics and addicts. Of course Al-Anon is for the families and friends of alcoholics, so most of the time we speak to family members who are visiting someone in recovery.

Lately I have begun to be more hesitant when I am asked to be on one of these panels. The past couple of times I have shared my story there has been a person or two visiting that are shocked to hear an unhappy ending in a house of hope. Almost without exception those visiting alcoholics and addicts in rehab are expecting a full recovery for their alcoholic/addict once they are released from several weeks of sober living. And thankfully it can and does go that way for many. But for others the path is more difficult.

In Alcoholics Anonymous they often talk about the alcoholic who must die so others can live. The thought seems to be that the tragic endings for some really illuminate the way for others, pushing them along in their program. But to a mother of an alcoholic child, or the wife of an addicted husband, the moment of realization that there is even a remote possibility for failure is a terribly painful moment. They even ask out loud how my story fits into their lessons for serenity. And it is in these moments of clarity that I am uncomfortable with my story. I am no poster child for happy endings.

As I worked my 11th step a couple of months ago I decided to begin attending church again, something I set aside years ago in my isolation. I visited a couple of churches and found one where I seem to be connecting with my Higher Power in a good way. I suspect I will stay in this church for a while.

At this point however it is not about people and socializing, or about some need to be a part of a family. I have satisfied those needs in my 12-step program. It is about a more intimate relationship with God Himself.

Recovery for me often is not comfortable. Wrestling with unfamiliar actions and new understandings of insight is difficult. My time in grief has been the most difficult passage I have ever entered.

God used a song in church this week to show me an area I have not given to Him yet. The lyrics of the exuberant tune say "you give, you take away, my heart will always say, blessed be your name."

In working the steps I know that I am certainly powerless over alcohol and addiction. And I believe completely that there is One who has all power. But I was completely without praise for God while thinking about what the disease of alcohol has taken from me. And there I stood, tears streaming down my face, choking on the words "blessed be your name".

And then it hit me. I was sitting in a 30 day rehab house angry at God for sharing with me that sometimes life is really crappy even in His care and protection. But every loss I see, every grief I encounter, and every ending I come to came about solely through His gifts and love. I wouldn't have felt such terrible pain in my wife's death unless He first made my wife, put her in my path, gave her the capacity to love me, and gave us years and years to embrace each other.

There is no loss that exceeds the gift itself.

Thank you God for such a wonderful gift! "You give, you take away, Blessed be Your name!"