The Best of Intentions

Man makes plans in his heart, but God directs his feet.

A friend said that to me the other day, and I loved it.

He was talking about himself. He had recently been fired from his job, but the date of his departure hadn’t been settled. His replacement was to come Nov. 1. Then he was told his replacement maybe not be available until the end of the year. Could he stay until then?

So my friend made some plans that would carry his position through the end of the year. He was well into it. Things were going well. Then he got the call. His replacement would, indeed, be there on Nov. 1. He had to remind himself:

Man makes plans in his heart, but God directs his feet.

I thought of that when I got home that very day to find an e-mail from our prospective renters. Their financial situation had changed and they could not rent our home. They were very sorry.

We were well into the process of finishing up at the land and moving out by their requested move-in date of Dec. 1. We had hired people to speed up the work on our yet-unfinished house. Held a huge garage sale. Sold two cars, furniture, appliances, artwork. Half our stuff was moved. But…

Man makes plans in his heart, but God directs his feet.

So….

We are still moving. Only now the pressure is off. Now, we can move in furniture after we install floors. We can hang clothes in finished closets.

I figure that these folks lit a fire under us. They knocked us off the fence and got us to tend to details we had been putting off.

We will list our house for rent on Craigslist. We will do our part and leave the rest to God.

We will make plans in our hearts, and let God direct our feet.

Speaking of directing my feet, literally… I have another assignment that involves hiking the Grand Canyon! Apparently, God does not want me to get flabby, either spiritually or physically. He continues to exercise my heart, mind and body. For that, I’m grateful. Left to my own devices, I can be pretty easy on myself. I let myself go.

Thanks to those of you who have stuck with me through this time of infrequent postings. I hope to return a visit soon. Honest.

I noticed that since I’ve been away, some new faces have appeared among my “friends and fellow travelers.” So I’d like to offer a heartfelt welcome to the “newcomers.” I look forward to paying you a visit soon.

Until then, take good care.

God Only Knows....

My God has a sense of humor.

I know this because whenever I have a problem, the solution He gives me is usually the very last thing I would ever come up with, let alone ask for.

I was reminded of this just the other day. Well actually over the course of a couple of days.

It came in the form of unsolicited story assignments.

But first let me back up and explain a problem I was wrestling with. Well, a couple of problems. Small ones, really. Very small in the scheme of things.

First, I had put on a few pounds. Nothing drastic, but enough that I couldn’t wear half my clothes. I made a few half-hearted attempts at watching what I eat more closely. But if I’m honest, I really didn’t do much about it besides wish they would melt away without any effort on my part.

Secondly, I noticed that I’ve been feeling a little off lately. Not depressed, really. Just a little flat. When I thought about when it started, I realized it was about the time we lost our dog. It didn’t really concern me. I knew that if I kept doing the things I had been taught to do in this program, it would pass.

Then I started getting these assignments. They’d appear in my inbox with the subject line that went something like “another assignment?”

Now, in a recession in which the health of print journalism, and the fortunes of journalists, hung by a thread, these little surprises are like manna from heaven.

Only this was like manna with strings.

The first involved a profile.

Of someone who lived in the Grand Canyon.

Accessible only by mule, helicopter or foot.

I was pretty sure the magazine wasn’t going to pay for the helicopter. Or the mules. I might take the mules anyway because my husband, who usually accompanies me on my travels, is in no condition to hike the Grand Canyon.

I wasn’t sure my pride would allow me to take the mules. The editor of this particular magazine is an old hiking buddy. But I took the assignment. I figured I’d figure it out.

Then the next day I got another offer. This time for a three-day backpacking class. In the Grand Canyon. In August.

I stared for a long time at the e-mail. My options here didn’t involve helicopters or mules, or my husband for that matter. I had been on exactly one backpacking trip and considered myself cured. I had no desire to do it again. That was 10 years ago. On flatter ground. And not in August.

This assignment sounded hard. And hot. Very, very hot.

I stared at the e-mail wondering what excuses I could possibly concoct. Did I really want to turn down unsolicited work in this economy? Really?

Yes. I did.

I could imagine hiking the 10 miles in and out from the cooler north rim to where my profile subject lived. But three days of backpacking from the hotter south rim? To the desert bottom and back?

I admit I felt like a wuss. I don’t know how many of my friends have done rim to rim hikes. But the idea has just never appealed to me. And I hadn’t really been hiking since I hurt my knee a year and a half ago.

At first, it made good sense. Every time I went hiking, my knee hurt again. But honestly? After a while it was pure laziness.

I still exercise every day. But in my air-conditioned home, and not too hard.

I hit the “reply” key. I started to type my regrets.

Then the phone rang.

“What are you doing?” my husband’s voice asked.

“I’m trying to decide how to answer the latest assignment offer,” I said. I told him what it was.

“Well, I can’t do that,” he said. “But I’d support you doing it.”

Damn.

I deleted the message.

I knew it was God. I looked up and told Him that I appreciated the thought, but I was hoping for a softer, easier way.

I looked at the details of the class. It looked doable. I downloaded an equipment list and started to see what I had and what I would need to rent or borrow.

Then I pulled out my hiking boots and packed what I had assembled in a backpack, adding weights to make up for what I was still missing.

I turned the thermostat to 88, put on my boots and pulled on the pack. I got on the elliptical trainer and turned up both the resistance and the incline and exercised harder than I had for a long time.

I swear I could hear God chuckling.

And when I got done, I felt… good.

Really good. My face was red and I was dripping sweat, but my lungs felt clean. I felt energized. The way I always used to feel after a good hike.

This wouldn’t be so bad. After all, we’re talking about one of the seven natural wonders of the world! People pay good money to take the class I’ve been offered! I was getting to take it for free! And people would pay me!

Then there was the whole diet thing. I could eat all sorts of salty, carby things that were usually off my list. The course recommendations included bagels. When was the last time I had one of those?

What was the matter with me? Where was the gratitude?

I took the assignment. Then got down on my knees to thank God for knowing what I needed and giving it to me. Whether I liked it or not.

He's still laughing. I just know it.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

There are certain places I’ve felt instantly, viscerally at home. That’s how I felt about New England and the small town where I lived. Other places took a while. The deep South was a culture shock to a girl who had grown up in L.A. And the sprawling metropolitan desert city I now inhabit? Well let’s just say it had to grow on me.

The thing is, it has. It’s where I belong.

Today, I also feel that way about my Al-Anon home group. I feel a part of things. I feel accepted. I feel loved. But I didn’t always. It wasn’t the group I wanted to make my home group. It was too far away and too late. I wanted to make a different group my home group. One that was closer and earlier and that I loved immediately and with all my heart.

But God had other plans. I couldn’t attend that group regularly. Taking service commitments would have been problematic. But Monday night? I’m almost always home on a Monday night. And over time, God firmly planted me there.

Looking around the room last night, I realized that I couldn’t leave the group if I wanted to. Scattered about the room, I saw most of my little Al-Anon family, five of my six sponsees. They are there every week. The only one who doesn’t attend this meeting lives out of town. So now I’m like a potted plant, and the thing is I’m thriving where I’ve been planted.

That was in keeping with the topic of last night’s meeting. It was yesterday’s reading from “Courage to Change.” It begins:

“In the words of Oscar Wilde, ‘In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. Of the two, the last is much the worse.’

Translation: My will gets me into trouble…. Maybe that’s why not one of the steps talks about carrying out my will.”

The rest of the reading was about learning to let go of self-will and instead seeking the guidance of a Higher Power.

I can relate to this on so many levels. I’ve been trying to impose my will for as long as I’ve drawn breath. In the AA Big Book, that’s referred to as “self-will run riot.”

But today, I can also see how it’s only gotten me into trouble.

Here’s something I came across on a website about Al-Anon. I was directed there by a blogger, but I can’t remember which one, it’s been so long ago.

This quote from a psychologist who specializes in addiction got my attention:

“I do not insist that the patient or I make a clear connection between the patient’s complaints and the presence of alcoholism. I suggest the patient use AlAnon as part of the diagnostic process and I use the familiar recommendation that the person may decide after attending six meetings whether the program seems to be useful.

“Frequently the most useful information emerges from the patient’s reactions to the AlAnon meetings. A feeling of not belonging is usually connected to the sense of estrangement that is common among alcoholic families. If the patient felt burdened by listening to others at a meeting, it is a telltale sign that this person assumes overwhelming responsibility for someone else’s behavior.”

In other words, feeling you don’t belong is a good sign that you do. Hence the recommendation to attend six meetings.

It reminded me of something I heard someone say at a meeting recently. She said Al-Anon had taught her that the right thing to do was often exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do, or did instinctively.

For me, this means that my will and God’s plans are seldom the same. So I don’t use my feelings as a guide as much as I used to. I didn’t “want” to make my Monday night my home group. But God seemed to have other ideas. The circumstances in my life kept pointing me in that direction. So I stayed.

Today I know that God’s surprises always work out better than my plans. I also know that God always wins. Acceptance just makes it easier for me.

Sometimes that just means doing what’s in front of me, asking for the next right action, until God puts something else there. Then I work on that. I don’t see these unplanned interruptions as unwelcome intrusions anymore. I see then as welcome guidance, and I embrace them.

In the Stars?

I attended Alateen certification training yesterday.

As an adult child of an alcoholic, service in Alateen is something that's been on my heart since I started exploring service opportunities a year ago. But I didn't have enough time in the program to qualify.

Since then, I've taken service commitments in my home group, begun my service work in the state prison and taken on three sponsees. I believed I was pretty well committed.

But I also believe in being open to guidance from my Higher Power, and I know that what He has planned for me is seldom what I have planned.

Last week, the area Alateen coordinator announced the training this Saturday and I had just passed my second year in the program (the length of time required to qualify). I'm almost never in town on a Saturday, but there I was, with plans to be in town on a Saturday.

So I attended the training and submitted my references and required documentation for certification.

I don't know what I will do with this. There are two meetings desperately seeking Alateen sponsors, and both are on nights I'm seldom in town.

So while I'm waiting for my certification to be processed, I will pray on this.

I'm not big on Horoscopes since I've learned to rely more on God, but just for fun, I clipped the horoscope on my birthday this year.

It says: "...As you study and take in many experiences, you have the sense that you don't yet know how to apply what you've learned. Hold tight. Your purpose is more obvious in the spring. A door opens to your life's work in April..."

A happy coincidence?

My home group is looking for a new home.

The group has been meeting in a homeowners association building, but we started to get the idea they didn’t want us there.

It all started during football season. It’s a large group that meets twice a week, and our format has been to have the chairperson share then break up into three smaller groups.

The employee who works at the counter likes to watch football and, on Monday night, would turn the game on in one of the rooms we occupy. When our home team was playing, she declared that room off limits.

When another group had a function on one of our meeting nights, the association raided our meeting room chairs so that we didn’t have enough. That bothered me because we pay for the privilege of meeting there and we had been there for years. But I’m not the group representative, so I kept my mouth shut.

Then we got notice that the association wanted to start charging us for three rooms for both nights, and we simply couldn’t afford to pay that.

We took a group conscience, which is what we call a vote by show of hands, and found that our members would prefer to move rather than change our format to a tag meeting or ticket meeting and stay in one room.

So several of us volunteered to form a committee to find a new meeting place. Each volunteer was assigned to call a church in the area. At a business meeting, the group voted for the church I had been assigned. I was glad, because I really liked the woman I had been talking to. Other groups met at this church. AA two nights a week, NA one night a week. There was no rent. We could make a donation as our budget and group conscience saw fit.

After the meeting, the group representative and I made an appointment to visit the facility and iron out the final details. It was a beautiful campus, and the church seemed very glad to have us there.

The church representative, as it turned out, had studied to be a substance abuse counselor but never got certified. Now there is someone in her life whose drinking bothers her and she had just decided that she should go to Al-Anon when I called.

She plans to attend our meetings. A happy coincidence? I think not. I prefer to see it as God working in her life, and ours.