When All Else Fails

I am sitting on my bed.
The lights are off.
And I have nothing to do.


No papers to write.
No discussion boards to submit.
No tests to study for.


I finished something I thought was impossible.
I survived something I sincerely thought might kill me.
I succeeded at something I thought I couldn't do.


I go back to the end of 2010.
Reading slowly the words I wrote then.
I don't remember her, the woman who wrote them.


This time last year, I declared 2011 would be the best year yet.
How could I have known?
That when I said, "go.  leave slowly.  end well" what that would truly mean.


Christmas is nothing but a day standing in between me and the first day of a new year.
I look back at the patterns in my life and I know for every hard year, a glorious year follows.
This hard year, I pray, will be followed by such.


I did not do better this year.
For years, that has been my resolution.
Nothing more than, "do better".


In 2011, I did not succeed.
Not by my standards.
Not by the standards of those around me.


I come to you a new woman.
Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually
Transformed.


New body art.
Smaller waistline.
More life etched into her face.


New stamps in my passport.
Three different addresses.
A new brother.


I found my words again this year.
And stumbled headlong into my heart, right after having a chair thrown at my face.
Finding the courage to quit and move on.


A hardened heart.
A brand new confidence.
A desperate understanding and appreciation of grace.


Now...


If I were to tell you about love, I would have a greater understanding.
If I were to tell you about fear, I would be well versed.
If I were to tell you about resilience, I would have more words.


After this year I could tell you about full arms.
I could tell you I spent more time on my knees, looking into the eyes of a fourth grader.
With my arms wrapped around a small body who doesn't know security.


Last year I told you about story.
I explained to you what a pivotal moment is.
An inciting incident.


Looking back over this year, I have trouble naming them all.
Simply because of sheer volume.
Those moments when you whisper quietly to yourself, "and... scene".


I was walking through the Farm.
He was wearing sunglasses, quietly watching over me.
As I met him -- who was wearing them too.


A sanctuary full of young ones.
A heart full of tears.
Words of everlasting and wings.


A Thursday night.
When I walked into a strange world where suddenly, I was seen.
Once invisible, once ignored, once unattractive.  No more.


I wish I could tell you about it all.
Put it into words, down on paper, daring to make it real.
But I would need a confessional.  And you'd need to wear a white collar.


I would tell you about him.
Hiding in the corner of the orphanage. 
And the last day when he ran to me from across the room.


I'd tell you about him.
Accused, punished.
So much anger and so much light in one young face.


I'd tell you about this tiny apartment.
My sanctuary.
The place I keep my secrets.


I'd tell you what it means to throw away a pair of jeans too big.
A pile of hair on the floor.
Of looking in the mirror and not walking away in disgust.


I'd tell you about my desperate attempts to feel.
About dry eyes.
And my even more desperate attempts to keep those feelings at bay.


I'd tell you about bad dreams.
And moments of epiphany.
Desperate clinging to hope and utter defeat.


I messed up this year.
And in that messing up... 
I know I have not lost.


There's too much to tell here.
My heart is brimming with it.
My lips are burning from it.


But as I dive into the last few weeks of 2011,
One truth burns stronger.
When all else fails, end well.