Anonymous Superheroes

My church recently began hosting meetings twice a week for Narcotics Anonymous. As a member of the Outreach committee, I volunteered to be a church liaison. My sister and I are there each week, making sure that the house is opened so the home group members can get the coffee brewing before the meeting starts. We sit in the entryway and greet everyone who walks through the door with a smile, sometimes even a hug. We offer our support, grab extra chairs or masks, point the way to the restroom.

Each meeting starts out the same. The chairperson opens the meeting with the serenity prayer. Members take turns reading aloud the 12 Steps, 12 Traditions, Who is an Addict, How it Works, etc. When the readings are complete, the group celebrates Clean Time, recognizing the milestones of members by passing out key tags. Newcomers are welcomed and invited to introduce themselves. Anyone who felt like using is given the opportunity to talk about it with the group. The consistency of the meetings provides a sense of familiarity that helps the members feel comfortable.

The Wednesday night meeting is so large that they often break up into two groups. One group focuses on “Just for Today” while the other chooses a step or tradition to be the focus of its discussion. These are incredibly welcoming people, and although we do not share their struggles, they have allowed us to join them and participate.

Most nights, I sit quietly just outside the meeting room. I listen to their stories of joy and heartache, setbacks and victories. Rarely can I see the person talking, but I feel a connection with them nonetheless. I have such a deep respect for every person that walks into that room. The strength it takes to choose to fight your demons and live clean is incredible.

28 days before our wedding, my fiancé checked into rehab. Until that moment, I had never experienced anything like NA or AA. My world changed as I started attending family night at the rehab facility. After he came home, he attended an outpatient treatment program where again I was blessed to be able to join on family day. There’s an instant feeling of belonging that I had never felt before and cannot explain. There’s no judgment, just love and support. I had spent years doubting that programs like AA could work, but all of that changed when I was welcomed in to these meetings. Tomorrow my husband will celebrate 1000 days sober. I am so unbelievably proud of him.

These people are more than just addicts. They are brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, cousins, friends, and neighbors. They are some of the strongest, kindest people that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. They support and encourage every one who walks through the door. No one is a stranger at NA. The newcomer is the most important person in the room, but they never need to feel like an outsider. Each person is welcomed with open arms.

A part of me is jealous of the people in NA. They’ve found a community full of people who accept them and want to see them succeed. They lift each other up rather than tear each other down. I think that we all have demons we must face, and we should all be so lucky to have a “We” like the members of NA and AA.

My pastor posed the question, “where do you see God at work?” For me, I see Him working in the lives of everyone who walks through that door and into a meeting. I feel God’s Grace when they speak about remaining clean and sober despite the temptation to use or drink. I get chills listening to them recount the moment when they gave in to their higher power snd decided to seek help.

To be certain, there are a few members of the home group who I’ve become more familiar with, but I wholeheartedly consider each and every one of them to be a superhero. One of my dearest friends is an absolutely beautiful inside and out woman that I met when my husband was in rehab. I love her unconditionally forever. I’m honored to call her my friend. As children, I think we all want to meet a superhero. Now I get to see them every week, and they are unknowingly making me a better person.