Our diocesan addiction and recovery commission hosted a wonderful half-day 11th Step Lenten retreat last Saturday. We connected with friends, made new ones, and welcomed back several people we hadn’t seen in a while.

We began the morning with refreshments and fellowship—good coffee, fruit, cookies, nuts, and a delicious homemade Cake Salé (a French savory loaf cake, similar to a quick bread, made with flour, eggs, milk, and oil, and filled with things like cheese, ham, olives, or vegetables). I had two pieces… twice!

We then moved into a beautiful space that also serves as a nave, where we hold our quarterly 12-step Eucharist gatherings. The tables were arranged in a horseshoe, with positive sayings hanging from them so people across the room could read them. Three that stood out to me were: “God does not love us if we change; God loves us so that we can change” (Richard Rohr), “The difference between you and God is that God doesn’t ever think He’s you” (Anne Lamott), and “Let Go & Let God” (every meeting ever).

Our first exercise was to go around the room and share how we got there—our connection to recovery and to the event—and also a peaceful sound. My connection to Episcopal Recovery, both nationally and locally, goes back to 1986, when I was working at an Episcopal church during a relapse and entered treatment again a few months later. I was so grateful my job was still there when I returned. Not long after, I started seeing mail come across my desk from the local recovery commission and from NECAD (now RMEC). I was thrilled to discover not one but two organizations that connected my Episcopal faith with 12-step recovery. My peaceful sound was a cat purring. It was great hearing everyone’s stories—the fellowships they attend, how long they’ve been in recovery (from one month to 40+ years), and their peaceful sounds. We had folks from AA, NA, SLAA, and Al-Anon.

After a short break, we came back to talk about prayer—specifically listening in prayer—by hearing Anne Lamott read from Help, Thanks, Wow, from the “Prayer 101” section. People shared different practices: some set aside time in the morning and evening, some journal to God, and some use a labyrinth.

One session on meditation introduced two-way prayer (https://www.twowayprayer.org/). I’ll admit, it sounded a little unbelievable at first—but I’m planning to give it a try soon. It’s about praying and then listening for God’s response. Here’s a brief outline of the practice:

• Try doing it daily for 30 days. Set aside 10–15 minutes each morning before the day gets busy. Choose a quiet space and use a journal just for this. Start by reading something meaningful or sacred that resonates with you.
• Sit quietly for a few moments, focusing on your breath or a favorite prayer. Sit comfortably but upright, aware of the presence you’re entering into.
• Focus on your connection with your Higher Power. Notice if anything feels in the way or if you need help in a particular area. Then shift into listening.
• Using your imagination, let God speak to you. Begin with a term of endearment and let the words flow. You’ll know when you’re finished—that’s when to stop.
• Read over what you’ve written. If the guidance feels honest, unselfish, loving, and pure, try to act on it. If you’re unsure, check it out with someone experienced in the practice.

One of our leaders also brought items that have helped him pray and meditate over the years—books, a couple of labyrinths, bells, and more. We even learned how to draw a labyrinth! I’ve since tried it myself and found it to be a really meaningful and rewarding way to pray and meditate. (Google How to Draw a Labyrinth)

To wrap up, we each shared what we learned and what we planned to take home and practice. It was a wonderful way to begin Holy Week, and I hope this becomes an annual event in our diocese.