Memories of a scratchy starched dress, a cold church and a baffling Sunday school lessons provided little foundation for a practical faith, so it’s not surprising that Constance Bovier drifted far from religion as an adult. But when Twelve Step recovery programs intervened, offering relief from problems she couldn’t solve alone, she got more than she bargained for – more than she even wanted at first – a slowly dawning relationship with God. More God traces Constance Bovier’s journey from wary agnosticism into a non-judgmental, all-encompassing Twelve Step spirituality and, finally, into vibrant Christianity. She writes openly about her joys and sorrows, her traumas and triumphs and, with a keen eye for the divine significance in the details of daily life, distills perceptive lessons from her experiences. These universal lessons and the resilient belief she shares offer valuable guideposts for others who’ve been circumnavigating their own questions of faith, just as she once did. Constance Bovier’s story reaches far beyond the Twelve Step recovery community to provide encouragement and inspiration for anyone who senses a soul-deep longing, anyone struggling with growing faith … anyone hungry for more God. The Twelve Step programs do an admirable job in helping people deal with addictions and in introducing them to a practical faith that really works. Yet at some point in their lives, many people (both in recovery programs and beyond) experience a tugging or nudging toward more meaningful faith. I certainly did. To continue my spiritual growth I had to reach beyond what I heard in Twelve Step meetings and read in Twelve Step literature. I wrote More God not only to share my own faith journey but to encourage others to adopt an open mind and to seek more spiritual growth for themselves. Constance Bovier is a professional writer who divides her time between aviation topics and inspirational work. In Twelve Step recovery programs since 1981, she remains active in those fellowships while enjoying deep and meaningful involvement in a Christian community. She lives with her husband southeast of Houston where they are active members of Bay Harbour United Methodist Church. Connie’s passion for spirituality and for encouraging the spiritual growth of others finds ample opportunity for expression in both the Twelve Step and church environments. SPIRITUAL SNAPSHOTS "When we speak of spiritual matters, especially when we mention God, we have reopened a subject which (the newcomer) thought he had neatly evaded or entirely ignored .We know how he feels .we imagined we had abandoned the God idea entirely." Alcoholics Anonymous (The Big Book) 1950. Tibbetts Methodist Church in West Seattle. I m sitting in the pew beside my older sister and my grandmother, fidgeting against the prickly seams of my slip and dress. (Few garments escape my determined mother s starch bottle.) The church is cold. I am miserable. Obligatory church attendance is the only bad part about spending a weekend with my paternal grandparents. 1954. A tiny church in Eugene, Oregon. Denomination unknown. I sit in a Sunday school class, struggling to comprehend what s going on. The teacher uses words I don t understand. She passes out something that looks like play money with talent printed on it. I must have missed the lesson that explained about talents. I m relieved when the hour ends. I meet my sister outside where we watch for Dad s arrival to pick us up. I carry my talent home, wondering what I m supposed to do with it. 1968. Wando Woods Baptist Church, Charleston, South Carolina. I wheel into the parking lot just in time to scoop my son and daughter from the stream of kids tumbling out of Sunday school. I hustle Troy and Kelly into the car. We make our escape. Whew. One more parental duty accomplished. Now that s done, I can get on with the rest of the day. 1970. An apartment north of Washington, D.C. My husband (the first of three) is talking about religion. I squirm at his beliefs. He s headed for hell, he tells me, because it s too late to make up for years of backsliding. (That s what he learned as a child.) Unsettled by his views, unable to marshal clear beliefs of my own, I resolve to avoid future discussions about God. Evasion seems the reasonable way to deal with such a disquieting topic. 1981. Webb s Chapel United Methodist Church in Farmers Branch, a northwest suburb of Dallas. I walk into the room where my Twelve Step group meets only to find a dozen strangers arranging centerpieces and setting tables for a church event. They cheerfully direct me to the temporary location for my meeting. The chapel. The chapel? I agonize for long minutes in the hall. My desperation has driven me to a church because that s where the Twelve Step program I need holds its meetings. But sitting in a fellowship hall is a far cry from meeting in a chapel. My stomach clenches in a resistant knot. To heck with the meeting, I almost tell myself. I almos