39

I woke up far too early the morning of my 39th birthday and my very first thought was “Fuck! This is not who I intended to be at 39.”

Closing my eyes I tried to start over. To wake to that first moment again. To take it back and make the other only a dream of another day. Instead, I opened my eyes again, turned over on my side and wrapped my body in an S shape around the two furry lumps hogging the opposite corners of the queen size sleigh bed.

I closed my eyes again and this time I prayed “God, give me your thoughts about me. Tell me Your truth about who I am today…on the first day of being 39 years old. I need some truth because that other stuff is old bullshit and we both know it.”

I dozed again. Sleeping another hour or so with the warmth and purrs of my friends radiating into me. Healing me a little with their real, honest view of just how good I am. When I stretched…they stretched. When I moved…they moved. And when I woke up they made their way to where they could look at my face and bear witness to what I spoke about myself to start fresh.

“Good morning. It is my birthday. I am 39. I am in LOVE with 39 year old me. I’m so grateful to be here…in this place with these blessings. And you know what else? I am so grateful to be me. I wouldn’t be anyone else for all the world. That hasn’t always been true but..god damn if I haven’t figured out how glad I am to be me. Also…I’m glad you two are here.”

With that…we all curled back up and slept until the sun actually came up. They were happy for me to stay in bed. And I was happy to know and believe the truth about myself. To have seen myself through their eyes and the eyes of God…which heck…might almost be the exact same thing. Pure, unaffected, I-don’t-NEED-you-but-I-want-you…Love.

And God saw Leah at 39 and she said “That one is GOOD.”
Amen!