There’s a line in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, on pages 66–67, that has changed my life. It’s tucked in the middle of the chapter How It Works where the writers stop telling us what alcoholism is and start telling us what to do about it. “This was our course,” it says, pointing to clear-cut action. It’s as if the authors are leaning across the table saying, “Stop just reading about this — now it’s time to do it.”

And this is where the rubber meets the road for me. If I want to be fully recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body, the Big Book tells me that I have to change. That’s not an easy pill to swallow — because my mind is constantly trying to convince me that you are the problem. The incessant noise between my left ear and my right ear tells me that if only my boss would change, or my spouse would act differently, or traffic would clear up — then I’d finally be okay.

Tonight, in my home group, one of the women said something that stopped me cold:

“I finally had to ask myself, are they sick, or am I just intolerant?”

That question hit me hard. Because the truth is, sometimes they are sick — spiritually, emotionally, maybe even physically — and sometimes I’m simply not willing to let them be human. She went on to say, “I’m not the woman I used to be. That woman didn’t survive — by God’s grace.”

That’s the point of the Big Book’s directions: it’s not about fixing them, it’s about God transforming me.

The Course of Action

Pages 66–67 don’t just describe resentment — they give us a prescription:

• List the people, institutions, and principles we resent.
• Write down why we are angry.
• Look at how it affects us — our self-esteem, pocketbook, ambitions, relationships, and security.
• Ask God to help us see where we have been selfish, dishonest, self-seeking, and frightened.

It’s uncomfortable work, but it’s liberating. When I put pen to paper, I start to see my part. I begin to see that my demand for others to act a certain way is really about control and fear.

Practical Examples

Here’s what this looks like in my life:

• At work: I resent a coworker for being condescending. When I write it out, I see that I fear being disrespected. My self-esteem is threatened. Instead of stewing, I pray for her, ask God to remove my fear, and then focus on showing up with dignity and patience.
• At home: I resent a family member for “always” criticizing me. When I inventory it, I see that I’m taking everything personally because I want constant approval. I start practicing detachment with love, stop engaging in pointless arguments, and ask God to help me stay calm.
• On the road: I resent the guy who cut me off in traffic. When I write it down, I realize it’s because I think the world should bend to my schedule. I breathe, ask God for grace, and remind myself that my serenity is worth more than being right.

“How Free Do You Want to Be?”

At some point, we all have to ask ourselves that question. If I want real freedom, I can’t stay chained to the resentments that are poisoning me. I have to do the work. I have to take the action.

The Spiritual Solution

The solution is simple, but not easy: pray for the person I resent — even if I don’t mean it — and keep praying until I do. Get quiet with God and ask, “Show me what I can do differently.” Then act on it. Make amends where needed. Practice tolerance and compassion daily, knowing that God is doing for me what I could not do for myself.

Freedom comes when I surrender — when I stop trying to manage the world and let God reshape me from the inside out. That’s when the incessant noise quiets down. That’s when peace starts to live where resentment once did.

In love & service,