I had a perfectly good draft for the Catch ready. Spent the weekend on it, fine-tuned it, even polished a sentence or two. Then, in a moment of questionable judgment, I shared it with my wife, Marti. This is always a risk. If I already suspect it’s not great, I secretly hope she’ll just nod and say, “It’s fine.” She never does.

This time, she called me out for overthinking it. Too much head, not enough heart. And she was right (as she often is). These steps aren’t about intellectual gymnastics. They’re about truth, raw and unfiltered. They’re about opening your heart wide enough for God’s light to shine in—and that kind of thing doesn’t happen in the cold, calculating corridors of the mind. That’s where justifications and excuses live. The head will argue its way into a comfortable little corner. The heart? It pulls you into something real.

Take a look at these steps below. At some point, probably more than once, you’ll cringe. “Oh no. Not that one.” “Do I have to?” “In front of actual people?”

Yes. And that’s the beauty of it.

The 12 Steps don’t just ask you to step out in faith; they pry open your heart like a stubborn old suitcase, dumping its contents in front of a room full of people. And the only thing that makes that bearable is the realization that everyone else’s heart is getting the same treatment. Vulnerability can feel like standing in traffic without a crosswalk, but when you realize everyone else is standing there too, it starts to feel more like a parade—one where the banners say, “You’re not alone.”

It’s a relief, really. Because trying to keep it all together? Exhausting. Pretending to be in control? Miserable. Meeting people where you actually are, instead of where you wish you were? That’s freedom. That’s the place where grace meets us.

Jesus told a story about two men who prayed—one, a religious professional who was quite impressed with himself, and the other, a tax collector who barely had the courage to lift his head. The tax collector just beat his chest and whispered, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And Jesus said he was the one who walked away justified. (Luke 18:11-14)

I imagine him walking into a meeting, hanging his head. “Hi, I’m Markus. I’m a tax collector and a sinner.”

And the room answers back: “Hi, Markus.”

Which is really just another way of saying, Welcome. We get it. Us too.

In my heart of hearts, that’s where I want to be. A place where the truth sets people free. A place where action isn’t driven by fear, but by faith. A place where we don’t just know about God’s grace—we live in it. And that only happens when we let our hearts, guided by the Spirit, take the lead.

So let’s step forward—heads bowed, hearts wide open.