39

A month before my 38th birthday last year, I laid in bed staring out the window into the dark night.  My mind wandered in sleeplessness, and my heart ached in confusion.  My life had ended up far south of WhereIAlwaysHopedVille. I had a couple decisions in front of me – give up or fight.  I was in a little Airbnb in Portland, ME with a beautiful bay of water out the back door.  Giving up meant I could walk right out into it and float away.  Fighting meant I could lay right here until the sun rises – until there is light again, and I see a way to do this.  At that point in life, I had thankfully learned to look for light no matter how dark. So as I gazed out the window, I locked my eyes on a streetlamp.  I imagined Jesus himself had just erected it there for me to remind me He was there. I watched that pale glimmer until I finally let myself fall asleep.  The next morning I made a pot of coffee and drank all of it and made the decision to fight – mostly for the love of the woman inside me. 

I just looked back at my social media post on my 38th birthday last year – the month after I made that declaration to fight for her – I was bare faced, messed up hair, and embracing the vulnerability and bravery of the woman I was becoming.  Today at year 39 I’m still celebrating that 38 year old. At the darkest time, she made a choice to hope. At a time when I felt like I could lose so much, I decided it was the best time to gain ME.  So I prayed more than ever – (but don’t lose me here, folks – this isn’t the “pray your way to getting good news and happy things” kind of cookie cutter spirituality).  This was my desperate plea for God to remind me who He was, who I was, and what we were together.  I knew I could pray about all those dark things, and they may stay dark, but I needed to know what the Light could do in the midst of it.  For instance, when people thank God for answering their prayers of removing their cancer while another Jesus-loving person with praying friends dies from it, how do we reconcile this? I can’t, and I don’t even try to anymore.  What I know for absolutely sure is that Jesus shows up to bring comfort in the dark. He brings the Light even if the dark stuff still comes. And that’s how we can make it when things aren’t going our way.  That year I looked for streetlamps, car headlights, and flashlights. I lit candles, plugged in nightlights, built fires, and lit matches and just stared at them – and then prayed a prayer heard from one of my favorite writers, Ann Lamott – “Help me.  Help me. Help me.”  I knew it may quite possibly stay dark, but I knew I would find Light every time.  This process woke me up.  I came to know Jesus and the Holy Spirit – not just a “Heavenly Father” who I thought needed me to perform and do things right. I sat in my favorite chair a lot and practiced nothing but being there and letting Jesus be there too.  And I always lit something – a candle or maybe a fire under my own ass.  I was learning to love myself and others from the place Jesus already loved me - in a complete mess.  It was crazy. 

I was delivered blow after blow last year, and I just kept looking for Light and finding love and comfort every time. I kept loving harder from a bigger place and presence outside my humanity.  At some point I may share more specifically about those hard times (it’s all simmering appropriately), but my most important lesson on this 39th birthday is that it is always worth seeking Light and fighting for mySELF – it spills out into my other relationships in a way I could never have done out of my own human strength.  I love myself and my people more every day. I forgive myself and my people more every day.  Happy year 39 to ME.