As I gazed at the second image “light” in
Scott Erickson’s “Honest Advent” – depicting the womb like a flame, I started
to cry- the light was coming to my story.
Growing up, I used to get slightly annoyed
when adults would look at me with that gleam- “Yeah, yeah I’m the miracle baby,
I had surgeries, my heart was broken, now I’m here—can I keep coloring in peace?”
The way we tell our stories is everything.
As the glances washed over me through the
years, and even into adulthood when I people would ask about my scars or the
dreaded open-ended “tell me about yourself” question, I would take a breath and
then focus on the darkness of that time of my life-“I wouldn’t have lived
through the week without the surgeries…I wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t gotten
help. My heart shouldn’t have made it. I was too broken. Yeah sure, a miracle… So
I guess I’m on borrowed time…”
Unconsciously these thoughts played in the
back of my mind, subconsciously jading my view about my worth and legitimacy.
But today, looking at the representation of
the light in the womb- my narrative shifted. No longer was I the “girl who was
supposed to die”- I am now, “the girl who lived” (maybe I should get a lightning
bolt tattoo). I didn’t “almost die”—I lived. Not only thought that week but
about 1820 weeks more. I LIVED, and by the grace of God, I’m still living.
And so
are you-
it’s amazing when you think about it- how any
of us have a prolonged life. I’ve lost several dear people these last few
years, and each one is a reminder of the gift of life, friendship, and community. I
want to spend my remaining time focusing on the living, not taking for granted
the present time I have. May this advent time be one of renewed joy, peace,
hope, love as I remember the goodness of Jesus’ coming in the midst of the
darkness of our world. May today’s light
permeate my beautifully beating heart as I live into this new light in my
story- good news of great joy for all people, indeed.
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