On September 28, I will turn 70.

Even writing those words feels a little strange. Seventy sounds like an age that once belonged to other people. And yet, here I am, grateful, a little amazed, and increasingly aware that the way I got here is the same way I have learned to live most of my life: one day at a time.

In July, I celebrated 37 years of sobriety and recovery. I have now been a sober person for more than half my life.

There was a time when I could not imagine 37 days sober, never mind 37 years! Recovery taught me not to try to get too far ahead of myself. I didn’t have to stay sober for the rest of my life. I only had to stay sober today. Tomorrow would have its own grace and promise.

That lesson has become about much more than not drinking.

One day at a time has become a way of understanding faith, aging, ministry, relationships, loss, joy…and God. Jesus told his friends not to worry about tomorrow. Recovery told me much the same thing. Both have invited me to trust that the grace I need will be there when I need it.

Over these 37 years, I have been given the gifts of experience, strength, and hope. Experience has taught me that life will not always unfold as I expect. Strength has often arrived through other people when I had very little of my own. And hope has come from trusting the promises of the program….not perfection, progress…a day at a time.

My Christian faith and my recovery have become inseparable. Both ask me to surrender the illusion that I am in control. Both call me into community. Both offer forgiveness and the possibility of beginning again. And both remind me that grace is not something I earn.

So, as I turn 70, I find myself less interested in counting the years ahead.

I have today.

Today I can be grateful. Today I can make amends where they are needed. Today I can love the people God has placed in my life. Today I can be useful. Today I can trust.

Seventy years of life. Thirty-seven years of recovery.

And still, wonderfully, just one day at a time.

Peace, Sandi (CT)