The Butterfly's Cocoon: October 22nd, 2012

I wake up, groggy at 12am on October 22nd to my phone ringing.

It’s Gary.

“HAAAAAPPPYYYYYYY BIIIRRRTHHHDAYYYY TOO YOUUUUUUUUU!” he screeches off key.

All I can do is listen, half dazed, half dreaming, until he completes the tune with a laugh, saying, “Now go back to bed. Happy Birthday!” and hangs up.

Beautiful.

I wake up, open my door, and a card comes crashing to the floor. It’s barely 9am and already, so many beautiful notes of love, of appreciation.

The card concludes with, “You really are worth it; I hope you know that. Love, Marisa.”

Beautiful.

Not even an hour later, after being holed up in my room, journaling, praying, praising the One who created this beautiful day and who created me and who created all those I love, I creep out of my room in my Gray Dress, ready to start the day.

A note crashes to the floor. It’s from Courtney.

“Coffee is ready for you. Happy start of birthday”

I screech, literally screech with excitement. I was about to go make coffee (something I don’t do very often). What a beautiful, beautiful gift.

“COURTNEY!” I yell, “ARE YOU STILL HERE?!”

No response, just Padfoot barking. I guess the tackling Courtney hug will have to wait.

My friend, Zack, wrote this on my wall, “AMBER CULLEN I'M SO GLAD YOU WERE BORN HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” It made me begin to think.

This is the first year I haven’t been extremely wound up about my birthday. Usually I’m so excited for everyone to be looking at ME to be celebrating ME to be giving gifts to ME because it’s MY day; I own it. The way this is worded sounds extremely selfish, but in a weird way, I severely enjoyed a day where everyone told me how great I was (maybe because I didn’t believe it myself—still sometimes don’t).

But this year…this year. My birthday is just another day. Not in a depressing way, but in a “HOLY MACKEREL…there are so many beautiful days…why just celebrate October 22^nd?!” kind of way. On October 20^th, my brother and his girlfriend came to visit me. We walked around campus in the rain, watched Princess and the Frog, and colored.

Gift.

On October 12^th and 13^th, I was at a camp where the leaves fell so beautifully from the trees, clothing me and the 50 other women who were there to learn—to learn about life and living.

Gift.

On October 6^th, I got to hold my newborn cousin, Gatlin, watching his hand wrap around my finger and his little eyes open with the wonders of the world.

Gift.

So many beautiful moments. So many beautiful days.

On October 22^nd, 1991, Brian and Cindy were blessed with a gift—a beautiful baby girl. They were ecstatic with the arrival of their first child. As she grew older, they watched her grow, and learn. “Lord, You pieced me together in Mom’s womb, giving me a dash of creativity, a spurt of energy, and a lot of love—thank You.” They watched her go off to school, watched as she played Barbies, as she and her brother, Brad, learned about the world. And finally, they watched as she went off to college—watching this beautiful, God given gift go off to college.

What if the point of my birthday is to celebrate the gift that is me? It’s new to me, this concept of celebrating that I am alive on this earth, that I am worthy of being celebrated. With this beautiful lens, I am humbled with gifts given to me by friends and family instead of brushing them off as I used to, where I accepted them, but not really. I can get excited as I once did when I was three, when I knew full well that I was loved, and that everyone was there to celebrate that I was on earth and frolicking in the leaves.

I am so thankful for this past year—for this year of beautiful change and troublesome adversity—my testimony. I’m so thankful that I am able to write this and share this blog post with others, that I am not silenced by the government, or by outside forces and influences in my life. I am thankful that last night I was able to walk outside with a dear friend of mine, and that we swung, went through shady alley ways, and star gazed, and yet were not taken hostage as human traffickers, raped, or bothered by anyone. I’m thankful for this safe neighborhood to be able to learn and grow.

I’m thankful that today I get to once again wear my gray dress, that today I can tell people of the horrors of human trafficking, bringing light to what has been silenced. I’m thankful for the GORGEOUS fall day, that there is a SUN to keep me warm, and majestic fall leaves that I can EAT WITH MY EYES—FALL CANDY. I’m thankful for so much, and so beautifully thankful that I, a gift, am able to live and learn on this beautiful earth.

Happy birthday, Amber. :)

Amen.