It’s important, I think, to be able to stand up and say, “All that has happened to me, all that I have done, everything that has brought me to this moment, here, today; it’s part of my story and it’s shaped the person that I have become. But it isn’t the whole of me. My past doesn’t define me. My story doesn’t end here. I am more than this.”
The more I confess my frail humanity, the louder I hear the sound of another voice rising up in me, one that has some weight behind it. It is the voice of Hope, and Hope speaks with courage and a bit of a laugh. Because when those things we most fear will happen actually happen, we have a unique window of opportunity to take inventory of the battlefield in the aftermath. We look around, blink our eyes, listen to the quiet, and think to ourselves, I am not dead. That did not kill me after all.