Second Chance

Do you remember the little game we played as kids, the one where you clasp your hands, fingers down and pinkies up and say, “here’s the church, here’s the steeple, open the doors and see all the people!”

Before I was married I belonged to an AME Baptist church in East Atlanta
Yes, I was the only white member
And I loved it
The singing
The spirituals
The sermons would carry my soul
There was a tremendous feeling of connection to the divine
It seemed to permeate the atmosphere
It was a holy moment in my week
When I began to get sick, I prayed
When I continued to decline, I prayed harder
When I got to the one year mark, I stopped
I’d lost the use of most of my body
I’d lost the ability to work or talk or anything else really
I’d silently scream for the god I’d believed in
Nothing happened
No wishes granted
I was furious
My husband, who had a front row seat to all of this
Became the opposite
He said, right from the beginning, “that my illness gave him the second chance to be the man he thought God had created him to be”
Imagine that
What profound words
What profound awareness
I mulled it over for months
I watched him care for me with no malice or blame
I watched him work full time and care for me, full time
He did it all, with a kind spirit and a lot of love
He became my lifeline back to God
I watched him and I wondered
Was the same thing true for me?
Was this a second chance?
If by some miracle I did survive, could I be a better version of myself?
There is a story in the Old Testament of a man who wrestles with an angel all night
He is wounded in the process but he is in need of a blessing
When daylight comes he asks to be let go
He will forever walk with a limp
But, he saw God face to face and lived to tell the story
I realize now, that I’ve seen Him too
He was the face of my husband each day, caring for me
He was the faces of my family and friends that never stopped calling and visiting and helping us in unbelievable ways
He was showing up at my door, with a roasted chicken and a bottle of wine
The church had found me on my sofa, in my sadness
The God I had been looking for and asking for
Was showing up, in everything and everyone I experienced
I found hope and then I found the clinical trial
I lived to tell the story
I got a second chance to be who I was created to be
I will most likely walk with a limp, forever
But, I’m okay with that because I will never, not see God
The church is in me now and I take it with me everywhere
Everyone I meet, brings it with them as well
There is a scripture that says, in Him I move, live and have my being
I think this is so true
I have so many friends in the gay community who have never had a good experience with a church
We belonged to a church in Mableton, Georgia before we moved that lost almost half its members after the pastor opened the doors to the LGBTQ community
Those of us who stayed, became blessed with amazing friends
The church is thriving again and is a beacon of light and hope
It was a fantastic thing to get to see up close
I think it’s finally time we realize that we are all connected
Really connected
We are all part of the same body
This pandemic should clear that up for anyone that still doubts
We all live and move and have our beings, in the same grace
It’s in everybody
We all belong
It’s all a holy moment
We all get a second chance
To come out of this who were made to be
Meant to be
I hope you see it, when you look into the eyes of your loved one
And, when you look in the mirror at your self
And I hope you realize, like Father Richard Rohr says-
“Love is both who we are and who we are still becoming. Love and life are finally the same thing, and we know that for ourselves once we have walked through death. Love has you. Love is you.”
And we can all say, Amen