From the Chair
Hello My Dear Fellows,
I pray this newsletter finds you all healthy and staying safe. Last month I spoke about uncertainty but this month I would like to share the message of hope. Right now we are all feeling so many different feelings and waves of emotions but there will always be hope. From individuals stepping up with their own zoom accounts to intergroup getting every meeting online to meetings holding prayer vigils for fellows in the hospital. I go on early morning runs and the ducks are still having babies, the flowers are still blooming, the trees are still flowering, the clouds are still billowing. The earth is healing itself, a great number of us are getting an opportunity with our families we might never get again.
There, in every breath, in every blink, in every laugh heard.....there is hope. Smelling fresh cut grass, seeing tulips sprouting in the woods, watching children play hide-n-seek, or my niece zooming some “senior spirit” with friends....there is hope. The thousands of stories of generosity you hear about on the news or from a friend that helps ease the stories or tragedy we hear from those we know on the frontlines.
Today, we have a Higher Power of our own understanding which means we can have faith and for that, gratefully, just for today, means we can have hope. Even if you are not feeling hopeful, that is ok too. Please know there are people out here to talk to about it. You can always hit me up and I can lend you some of my hope!
April 15
“Hope” is the thing with feathers—That perches in the soul—And sings the tune without the words—And never stops—at all—
Emily Dickinson
A “hopeless compulsive overeater” is the way I described myself when I came to OA. I was sure nothing could save me. Today I know that no one is without hope. Indeed, the best hope is in the very admission of hopelessness. There may seem little chance of realizing my hopes but, far from killing them, that dim prospect gives them new life. I once thought that if I hoped for something I had to pursue it frantically. That’s not the OA way. Going on about my business, doing one small necessary chore at a time, and letting my Higher Power take care of the rest—that’s the OA way.
For today: I admit I can do very little about my fears, my concerns, and my hopes. But I can—and do—turn them over to God.
Overeaters Anonymous, (2010-11-22). For Today
16 JANUARY
“Those of us who live this program don’t simply carry the message; we are the message. Each day that we live well, we are well, and we embody the joy of recovery.” — The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions of Overeaters Anonymous, p. 106
When I first walked into the rooms of Overeaters Anonymous, I was like the candle whose light is flickering and close to going out. I was sick in mind, body, and spirit; I was hopeless. Many OA members describe OA as the last house on the block. I do not know if that is true since I do not know where the block begins or ends. I do know that what I found in OA can be found only in the heart and mind of another recovering compulsive overeater. The flickering light that I came in with became stronger, and the hopelessness turned into hopefulness. I can be a living example or a dying example of how the program works. My courage to recover and my
experiences in OA serve as an example to those who know me. I represent and carry the message of hope.
Overeaters Anonymous (2002-12-10). Voices of Recovery
In Servcie and Love,
Lori J.
