Comfort That Rebuilds
Isaiah 66:10–14c is a passage of consolation. It speaks to a people who have suffered, who have mourned, and who are now invited to rejoice. For the alcoholic in recovery, this is not just poetic—it’s personal. It’s a blueprint for healing.
1. Rejoice with Jerusalem: The Fellowship of Joy
"Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her, all you who love her."
Recovery begins in mourning—but it doesn’t stay there. AA rooms are filled with laughter, not because the pain is gone, but because joy has returned. We rejoice not in perfection, but in progress. Jerusalem becomes a metaphor for the AA fellowship—a place where broken people gather, heal, and celebrate each other’s victories.
Recovery Insight:
I’ve seen newcomers walk in with hollow eyes and leave with a grin. That’s Jerusalem. That’s joy reborn.
2. Nourished at Her Breast: The Recovery of Sustenance
"That you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast."
Isaiah uses maternal imagery to describe comfort and nourishment. In AA, we are fed—not with milk, but with stories, wisdom, and presence. We are nourished by the experience, strength, and hope of others. The fellowship becomes our sustenance.
Recovery Insight:
I’ve been fed by the words of strangers. A single sentence—“Me too”—can be more nourishing than a thousand sermons.
3. Peace Like a River: The Recovery of Serenity
"I will extend peace to her like a river."
Peace is not a trickle—it’s a river. In recovery, serenity is the goal. Not just sobriety, but peace. The kind that flows through your day, your thoughts, your relationships. It’s the kind of peace that lets you sleep, breathe, and walk without fear.
Recovery Insight:
I used to chase dopamine. Now I chase peace. And when I find it, I guard it like treasure.
4. Carried and Comforted: The Recovery of Presence
"You shall be carried in her arms and dandled on her knees."
This is not infantilizing—it’s intimate. Recovery is not just about standing tall. It’s about being held when you’re too weak to stand. AA doesn’t demand strength. It offers presence. Sponsors, friends, strangers—they carry you until you can walk again.
Recovery Insight:
I’ve been carried. And now, I carry others. That’s the rhythm of recovery.
5. The Hand of the Lord: The Recovery of Divine Action
"The hand of the Lord shall be known to his servants."
Recovery is not just human—it’s divine. The hand of God is not distant. It’s visible in the rooms, in the stories, in the grace that flows through every meeting. We don’t just recover—we are recovered.
Recovery Insight:
I didn’t fix myself. God did. I just showed up.
Jason Bresnehan
Jason is a fixer—of businesses, of broken momentum, and occasionally of entire spiritual frameworks gone sideways. He speaks fluent boardroom and AA, deploys Catholic doctrine with the subtlety of a scalpel, and isn’t afraid to lace his insights with both war-room metaphors and dad-sermon tenderness.
Founder of Evahan, a consultancy built on the idea that legacy and liquidity don’t need to fight, Jason draws on 30 years of commercial grit, tactical leadership, and emotional radar to help people rebuild what entropy took. He works with companies, communities, and recovery misfits alike—often using the same principles to sort both cap tables and chaotic lives.
He’s finalising his first book—a memoir-in-doctrine forged in the trenches of alcoholic recovery, endurance motorsport obsession, and spiritual trench marches. That book, partly teased on his Pursuit of Luck blog, is the cornerstone of a broader movement to connect practical wisdom with satirical grit, spiritual heat, and a recovery roadmap lined with breadcrumbs and tactical grace.