A Celebration of Recovery, Community, and Hope
The morning of our Sober Celebration began with a simple invitation. I asked the boys to pause and remember the exact day they got sober. I invited them to hold that date in their minds and then imagine themselves one year from it, celebrating their first anniversary. Not as a vague wish, but as something real, something they could see and shape. It was an invitation to turn possibility into probability.
By the afternoon, our community had gathered, many having been there all day for Family Day. Families, friends, and colleagues filled the space, some attending a celebration like this for the first time. Just before we began, a sudden downpour threatened to scatter our plans. Our new patio, finished only the night before with its furniture brought in just hours earlier, seemed destined to stay empty. Then, as quickly as the storm arrived, the sun returned and a low rainbow stretched across the sky. Together, we dried the chairs and tables. It was a simple task, yet it captured the heart of community: people stepping in, side by side, to make something possible. Each table held a vase of wildflowers, echoing the blooms that grow just beyond the patio where the mountains frame the horizon, a quiet symbol of what takes root when families walk this road together.
Six individuals were honored that day for their milestones in recovery. Two of them, now 17 and 20, are young men I have known since the very beginning of their journey several years ago. To witness their healing and their steady movement into maturity has been a gift beyond words. Two more are my Woodhaven colleagues, men I deeply respect. Both have devoted their lives to guiding boys and young men in early sobriety, offering shelter, wisdom, and encouragement with unending patience. One even gave my loved one driving lessons after those first painful car crashes. The other is my Woodhaven partner and friend, whose passion and compassion mirror my own, someone who continues to teach me as much as he teaches those we serve.
Among those honored were my loved one and me. Watching him receive his coin from his sponsor for three years of sobriety was extraordinary. Though his milestone was in February, he chose to wait so he could celebrate alongside the others. I could speak about the distance he has traveled, but what I hold closest is who he is now: a young man with a remarkable work ethic, a quick wit, and a heart that uses his story to guide others.
Later, he placed a coin in my hand, carefully chosen with a beach design and the serenity prayer. I knew it was more than a token. His words as he gave it to me are etched in my heart. The coin became a symbol of our shared journey through struggle, through healing, and now through recovery. It reminded me that peace and joy are possible.
The celebration lasted two hours, yet it never felt long. Each speaker wove humor and tenderness into their words, sharing small stories and cherished memories that revealed who these individuals were when they began and who they have become today. For those in the audience who had not known each person, the stories served as introductions, drawing them closer into the circle.
What stood out most was the deep connection among the six. Each has his own journey, yet their paths have crossed in ways that tied them together through experience and care. They have lived side by side, shared struggles, offered guidance, and celebrated victories. The stories told that night were not only about individuals, but about the relationships that carried them forward. It reminded me that sobriety is not measured only in days or years, but also in the strength of the bonds that sustain us along the way.
Speaker after speaker circled back to the same truth. Sobriety matters, but what gives it life is belonging. It happens when those who once felt they didn’t belong finally find their community. When hope begins to take root and grow. When healing shows itself in steady, ordinary ways. When new beginnings slowly unfold and remind us that change is possible.
The morning began with imagining what recovery could look like. By evening, we were reminded that those hopes are not only possible, but already taking shape. My hope is that these young men carry this day with them, not only imagining their one-year celebration but setting that goal and moving toward it with the support that surrounds them. Next year, we hope to celebrate alongside them, whether here or wherever their journeys lead.
Now, a few days later, my heart is still overflowing. I am filled with gratitude for the courage we witnessed, with love for the community that gathered around us, and with hope for all the beginnings still waiting to unfold.
