We talk a lot about spiritual awakenings in AA. Hell, it’s in the 12-step readings we recite every night:
“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps…”
“We came to know a power greater than ourselves…”
My own spiritual awakening didn’t come in a church pew or during a mountaintop worship service. It came over a cup of burnt coffee and the whirling smoke of four cigarettes outside an AA meeting. That was the moment something shifted in me—though I didn’t know it yet.
Before that, I had tried everything. I wasn’t getting through to whatever “God” was supposed to be out there. If there was someone watching over me, it sure felt like they didn’t give a rat’s ass. In fact, I was pretty convinced that if God did exist, He was using me as the cosmic example of what it looked like to be unloved.
You want a Bible reference? Fine. I was the Amalekite to the Israelites—marked, punished, forgotten. Someone’s kid, someone’s family, someone who didn’t deserve the pain. That’s how I walked into the rooms of AA: broken, lost, and already convinced I wasn’t worth saving.
I hated saying the lines about “God” or “a higher power.” I knew damn well I was powerless over my addictions—I’d tried to quit alone more times than I can count. But the God from my childhood? The church version? I wanted nothing to do with Him.
Then this sweet old lady in AA looked at me and said, “Take my God with you until you find yours.”
And somehow… that brought me peace.
That was the beginning of my search.
Redefining God: From White Beard to Wild Energy
I spent more of my life than I’d like to admit searching for a higher power. I called Him “God” because I grew up in the buckle of the Bible Belt. But over time, the image changed. My higher power isn’t a white man in a bathrobe judging from above.
My higher power is a current—an energy woven through nature, people, and the quiet moments between thoughts.
I see Him in the sun and moon, in the trees and rivers. I see Him in strangers passing by, in the man shaking a cup on the corner, in the raw honesty of the rooms of AA.
My best conversations with my higher power happen beside the river or up in the mountains—not under stained-glass windows.
Church folks talk about “feeling the Spirit” in worship. Good for them. I’m not here to discredit anyone’s experience. But for me? Peace isn’t found in a sanctuary. It’s found smoking a cigarette with the homeless. It’s in late-night conversations with a friend. It’s in the raw, unfiltered, unconditional love of people who have been to hell and crawled back.
The Church Prayed for Me—But Never Saw Me
I know there have been many prayers for me to “find the right church.” My words fall on deaf ears when I try to explain that I do have a relationship with God—it just doesn’t look like a Sunday morning routine.
I already have fellowship. I have it in AA.
We cuss and quote scripture in the same breath, and somehow that feels more genuine than anything I ever found in a pew.
The church claims unconditional love, but my experience didn’t match that claim. Sure, they let anyone in the door—but fitting their mold is a different story. They decide if you’re “changed enough” to serve, to belong, to matter.
You know what?
Fuck that.
I’ll take brewing coffee at an AA meeting, sharing a meal with the homeless, or hiking into the mountains for meditation any day. Those places feel more sacred to me than any cathedral I’ve ever seen.
What Would Jesus Actually Do?
I love a good thought-provoking conversation—especially the kind that challenges how I’ve always thought about spirituality. So here’s one: look at Jesus’s life.
Where did He teach?
Who did He choose to spend His short 33 years with?
Spoiler alert:
It wasn’t the church people.
He taught in the streets and by the water. He hung out with thieves, prostitutes, the sick, the hurting—the so-called sinners. The church folks of His day were offended by Him. They questioned His authority. They tried to push Him out of their comfortable little religious bubbles.
So tell me—why is the modern church so convinced He’d be sitting in the front row today?
Honestly?
I think Jesus would’ve been in the rooms of AA long before He stepped into a megachurch. Maybe that’s bold. Maybe it’s offensive. If it hits a nerve… maybe that’s worth thinking about.
Wherever You Wake Up—Lean Into It
Everyone’s journey is different. Everyone’s spiritual awakening looks different. The common thread is connection—to ourselves, to each other, to whatever higher power gives us peace.
Wherever you find your awakening—lean into it.
Hold onto your joy. Guard your peace.
And don’t let anyone tell you your relationship with God has to fit their mold.
We’re all just trying to become better versions of ourselves.
And sometimes all it takes is cigarettes, coffee, and a willingness to finally listen.
