The Missing Piece in My Recovery: How Spirituality Saved My Life

Why reconnecting with a Higher Power—after years of self-will and survival—became the turning point in my sobriety.

Looking for God...But He wasn't the one who was missing. I was.

The Back Burner Wasn’t Enough:

For a long time, I thought I still had God in my life—just quietly, in the background.

I wasn’t rejecting Him outright. I just… rearranged the stove. I put God on the back burner and turned the flame down low—assuming He’d always be there if I needed Him. Meanwhile, I cranked the front burners up high with everything I thought would fix me: self-will, control, therapy, wine, success, shopping, even spiritual-sounding self-help books.

And by the time I reached my rock bottom, I couldn’t understand why I felt so burned out. Why I felt so alone. Why all my “solutions” had failed.

It’s because the flame on the back burner had almost gone out.

Sobriety Without Spirituality? I Tried That.

When I entered recovery, I actually thought I already had the “spiritual” piece down. After all, I’d grown up Catholic. I loved the rituals, the incense, the reverence. I prayed as a child. I believed in God. Wasn’t that enough?

But belief alone isn’t the same as reliance. And recovery isn’t just about believing in something—it’s about surrendering to something higher than yourself. The ego doesn’t like that. Mine sure didn’t.

I had lived for years thinking I was in charge. I could outwork, outthink, outrun the pain. I didn’t realize that I was worshiping the wrong god: me.

Back in my St. Joseph’s grammar school days, I was honored to serve as May Queen—crowning the Blessed Mother with a ring of flowers. (Everyone looks a little nervous, don’t they?! lol)

Faith Is Believing. Trust Is Acting on Faith.

About a year into my sobriety, I heard a story that made something click.

In the 1850s, a tightrope walker named Charles Blondin became famous for walking across Niagara Falls—1,100 feet above the gorge—with no net. He did it blindfolded, backwards, on stilts—even carrying people on his back. One day, he pushed a wheelbarrow across the rope. The crowd went wild.

Then he asked, “Do you believe I can do that again—with someone inside?”

They all said yes.

“Great,” he said. “Who’s getting in?”

Silence.

That was me.

I had always believed in God. I had faith. But I didn’t trust Him. Not with my safety. Not with my life.

And it hit me—faith is saying He can do it. Trust is climbing into the wheelbarrow.

With my history of trauma—teachers, doctors, even a therapist who shattered my trust—learning to hand over control was terrifying. I’d been hurt by the very people I was taught were safe. And I didn’t want to be hurt again.

But slowly, the Steps began to shift something in me. I started to understand that when I trust God—not just believe in Him, but surrender—I don’t lose power.

I gain peace.

I’m not the one on the wire anymore.

He is.

And I’m not walking alone.

Faith without works is dead.

The First Three Steps Changed Everything

If you’ve been in the rooms, you’ve heard them:

1. I admitted I was powerless over alcohol—that my life had become unmanageable.

2. I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.

3. I made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understood Him.

   
   

At first, those steps sounded simple—even sweet. But living them? That was a whole other thing.

I had to admit that I wasn’t just powerless over alcohol—I was powerless over control, fear, ego, and self-will. I had to confront the fact that I wasn’t running the show (and had never been). That real recovery wasn’t about “getting stronger”—it was about letting go.

That’s when something shifted.

The Missing Piece Was Never a Book—It Was God

Books didn’t save me. Willpower didn’t save me. Even therapy couldn’t save me.

What saved me was a spiritual awakening—slow, quiet, and undeniable. It came in moments of surrender, in tearful prayers whispered into the night, in the gut-level humility of realizing I couldn’t do this alone.

Psychiatrist Carl Jung said that for alcoholics of the “hopeless” variety, the only path to healing was through a vital spiritual experience. Jung called it a “real conversion.” Bill believed it—and built the 12 steps around that truth.

“You are not truly free until you realize that a spiritual awakening is the only path out."— Carl Jung, in correspondence with Bill Wilson, co-founder of AA

The Dalai Lama once said, “The 12-Step program is one of the greatest spiritual movements of the 20th century.” I agree. Because it works—not through punishment or perfection, but through surrender and grace.

Spirituality Isn’t Religion—It’s Relationship

The 12 steps don’t demand a specific religion. They ask for a willingness to believe in something greater than yourself—a Power that can restore what addiction broke.

For me, that Power is God. The same God I spoke to as a little girl. The same God I forgot when I got busy running from pain. The same God who was still there when I finally collapsed and whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Today, God is no longer on the back burner. He’s the fire that keeps me warm. The light that guides me. The presence I turn to first—not last.

What I Know Now

Recovery without spirituality is just white-knuckling. It’s missing the foundation that makes lasting healing possible.

Because the point isn’t just to stop drinking. The point is to become whole. To live in alignment. To be restored to sanity and connection.

For me, that didn’t happen until I made space for the sacred. Until I gave God His rightful place—not in theory, but in practice. Not just in belief, but in action.

That’s when things truly began to change.

If You’re Struggling to Find God in Recovery…

Start with the truth:

• You don’t have to believe perfectly. Just be willing.

• You don’t have to understand God. Just stop trying to be God.

• You don’t have to fix everything. Just ask for help.

  
  

Because the flame may be low… but it’s not out.

You can move God from the back burner to the front.

You can begin again.

And this time, you won’t be alone.

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I founded Women in the Rooms—a private online recovery community for women—so no one has to struggle alone or work a solid recovery program by themselves.

Each Saturday morning, we host a private, uplifting meeting focused on emotional and spiritual growth, with powerful conversations and supportive topics that meet you where you are.

If you’re looking for connection, inspiration, and a safe space to grow alongside like-minded women, join us!

All membership requests are carefully screened for your safety.

Click the link in the space below to request access. You don’t have to do this alone. We’re here—and we’d love to meet you.

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