Larry Winter

It’s just after six on a Thursday evening, and something has awakened in Dawn. After a conversation with someone in Recovery, she ran to the support group, declaring her commitment to healing. Now, on her second trip back, she’s running the same route—this time with fire in her soul. The streets are still buzzing from […]

Imagine this sacred moment—Recovery appears before us, not as a concept but as a dear friend. Two companions, at ease in each other’s presence. We begin to wonder: could we become this comfortable with Recovery? Recovery speaks tenderly, calling those with mental health and substance use challenges brothers and sisters. We pause—could Recovery be speaking

What if Recovery were a person—gentle, steady, and alive with grace? We suddenly recognize them standing right in front of us. Recovery looks different than we imagined, but it’s undeniably them. Tears of joy rise. We reach out, and Recovery meets us with warmth and presence. Then, softly, Recovery speaks: “You can let go now.”

Recovery calls us by name. What does it say? You are not alone. Healing is possible. Come closer.Recovery is not just a process—it’s a presence. A journey that begins in the quiet ache of our darkest moments and leads us back into relationship, connection, and love. There’s something sacred about hearing our name spoken in

James is walking a familiar trail through the forest, his mind focused on his usual goal—get the body moving, clear the head. A figure approaches from the opposite direction. James offers a polite nod, expecting just another passerby. But the stranger looks directly at him and says gently, “Don’t leave before the miracle.” The words

When Catherine of New York was just 30 years old, an event occurred that would profoundly shape the rest of her life. She grew up in a home with a Mother who suffered from a mental health condition and a Father who misused alcohol. She greatly struggled with sadness, anxiety, and alcohol misuse. She was

Thomas is trembling forward and looking into the room. It’s a modest space, and chairs are organized in a circle-there’s not a large crowd, as in a large auditorium. People are mingling with each other. Dawn approaches Tom. It’s obvious from his body language that he is anxious. She asks in a gentle voice, ”

During my meditation time this morning, I was reading an inspiring story reminding me about Recovery. I came up with a simple motto, “Recovery Alone.” Those two words sum up my entire life’s mission. The twelfth step states, “…We model these steps, making them real in our lives and supporting the growth of our brothers

I have moments when I lose my faith in Recovery. I am hurt by Recovery allowing me to suffer. I stake my life on Recovery, investing all my hopes and dreams. I feel let down when my symptoms return. But I do not give up on Recovery. After five separate mental health episodes, when my

This is the story of a woman named Grace. Grace, from an early age, believed her suffering from a mental health condition served a greater purpose. She was born in Germany in 1964, and as a child, she was anxious and sad most of the time. The condition left her unable to focus on school