December 17, 2010. 11:00 AM. Scranton, PA.

It’s 8 days before Christmas. Roughly two weeks before the end of the year. I’m sitting in my office, typing away on my laptop, coffee mug on the warmer plate, listening to the hum of my aquarium filter as my fish swim back and forth in their tank. The office is quiet, but I’m swamped with last-minute, end of the season tasks that I have to accomplish before I can go be with my family on Christmas Eve. Kiara is sitting in the corner in her ‘nest’, coloring and proudly tacking her preschool-aged art up all over my bulletin board.

I have no idea that my life is about to come apart at the seams in less than two months’ time.

 

December 17, 2019. 11:00 AM. Carlisle, PA

It’s 8 days before Christmas. Roughly two weeks before the end of the year. I’m sitting in my office, typing away on my laptop, coffee mug on the warmer plate, listening to the hum of my aquarium filter as my fish swim back and forth in their tank. The office is quiet, but I’m swamped with last-minute, end of the season tasks that I have to accomplish before I can go be with my family on Christmas Eve. A Christmas tree sits in the corner of my office with Kiara’s baby shoes hanging amongst the rest of the ornaments. The artwork tacked to my bulletin board features ET giving me the finger, the Viking funeral my dead cat ‘deserved’ but didn’t get, and political signs demanding justice for homeless folks. It’s all drawn by my nieces.

 

It’s all so familiar…and yet so incredibly different.

Ten years have passed.

In some ways, it feels like a lifetime ago. At other moments, it’s as though I just blinked. Like I woke up one day and everything was different.

What a ride this decade has been.

I started it as a pastor. As an officer in The Salvation Army. As the director of the largest Angel Tree in Northeastern PA.  As a foster parent to a little girl I thought I’d have forever.

I ended it as none of those things.

This past decade has been the most difficult of my entire life. I had to start over from nothing. Literally nothing. Not just without physical belongings and money, but without really knowing who I was or could be. Without the religion I’d grown up in. Without the career I’d thought would be for life. Without any sense of identity at all. Without self-confidence, knowledge about the ‘outside world’, a plan for the future…..nothing.

It has been a tough journey. My world collapsed in on itself and became very small. I went from being a world traveler to not having the means to get around town. Just leaving Carlisle to go the 20 minutes up to Harrisburg was a huge treat…and a luxury expense I couldn’t afford to give myself often.

I found my first apartment. 220 square feet. For the first several months, I had no furniture except for a mattress and a camp chair. A thick layer of ice formed on the inside of the windows that winter, because I couldn’t afford to turn on the heat. I washed my clothes in the sink and ate a LOT of oatmeal and beans.

And I made it through.

Worked jobs I never thought I’d have.

Went from being the assistant executive director of a non-profit to washing other people’s underwear at the local dry cleaners. There, I learned that a job doesn’t define who I am.

Became a CNA and changed diapers, showered people, fed those who couldn’t feed themselves, sat with people as they died, comforted those who had dementia….and learned what compassion and love for love’s sake looks like.

Took on all the volunteer roles I could – running First Night, joining festival committees, doing whatever I could to prove to myself and others that I was capable without the uniform and the army’s name-power behind me….and I learned that it wasn’t the uniform that made me capable of running things well.

Started attending a local UU church, and let the pastor talk me into becoming a worship associate, and then start preaching again….and I slowly, but surely, discovered what I truly believe in and why I believe it.

Got back into theatre. Started acting in ‘secular’ plays again, after only doing religiously-based theatre for a decade…and was able to rebuild my self-confidence through the characters I was playing on the stage.

Took a job in a field I knew nothing about – large format printing….and honed my leadership skills, built my resume, and used my new earning power to move into a better apartment and get a better car.

And on a deeper level, it’s been quite the decade as well.

Never in my old life would I have dreamed that I’d spend my time fighting for anti-discrimination ordinances, organizing candlelight vigils in the town square, leading the first-ever Women’s March in my home city as an honorary marshal, putting down roots in a tiny town in PA and becoming so civically involved…

Completing my play, seeing it performed, and getting the copyright for it.

Coming out.

Meeting my partner, my wonderful sister-in-law and seven amazing nieces.

Letting someone get close enough to see into my heart and become my best friend.

I could keep listing, but the tears streaming down my face are making it difficult to see the computer screen.

The other day, I sat in the theatre where I’m directing our Christmas show, with my arm around my best friend, watching the set being built. As I took it all in, I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes and I was filled with a deep sense of home. This is where I belong. These are the people I’m supposed to love. This is ME – in all my messy, imperfect humanity. For the first time, I truly know who that person is – and I LIKE the me I’ve become.

It’s been a hard, rocky, terrible-and-wonderful decade, but I really do have A Wonderful Life.  And I can’t wait to see what the next decade holds.

Merry Christmas, y’all.

You are loved. You are enough. You are Wonderful.