Language of the Heart

Big Al was the first to speak at my first AA meeting. "I'm so angry I could kill. My grown daughter has been going to a therapist and he has her convinced that I molested her when she was little." Then Dr. Bill spoke. "They have suspended my medical license until after the hearing. Don't know if I will ever get it back." Then Jay talked about his sick wife who only had a short time to live and the fear he had about being alone. The five or six other people at the meeting that day shared something about sobriety, recovery and how well their lives were going, but I don't remember much of what they said.

I'm coming to believe that the language of the heart flows from the honest sharing of pain, confusion and brokenness. In the safety of my AA brothers and sisters who have been to these places before me, I can break out of my denial that everything is "fine." If I can muster the courage to tell it like it really is, to admit my humanness, my frailty, my powerlessness, then I may give a small measure of courage to those who struggle with their own separation from the Source.

God is hard for me to find when everything is going well. He seems to wait patiently until I get to the end of my rope, to the depth of my despair. He waits for my darkest moments to lift me up. He has never failed me in these times. I sense a divine order exists in chaos and destruction. There is a perfect plan even though I can't wrap my mind around it.

To me, the language of the heart is not about whining about people, places and things. It is about empathy and compassion and honesty and humility. It is these qualities that connect us all together and when we are so connected, God is present.

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