Dear God,

Fifty!  Wow.  I woke with a smile and a cake hangover this morning and lazed around awhile recalling past anniversaries of the day I was born.  I remember the one when I was ten and  Mom made me an angel food cake magically filled with red jello – covered with whipped cream — served to ten giggling friends who stayed up too late playing truth or dare that night.

And then, fifteen years later, the 25th — when a friend said “live it up, the way you’re going, I doubt you’ll make to fifty” and we laughed, lit up smokes and took another shot of tequila..

Another 15 years passed and  I was forty.  The darkest birthday — ten years ago today when I sat in the same room I am sitting in right now, except the blinds were drawn and I didn’t want one more minute on this earth because how, God, could I possibly go on without Bo?  Friends and family called and I did not answer the phone.

Just five short years ago, five months sober — raw and resigned to whatever came next — avoiding a party because I was pretty sure I would never party again.  Ever.   I have to laugh at the tears that are springing to my eyes, God — because HOLY CRAP….  what miracles — what gifts have I been blessed to count since that day?

The continued fervent without bounds love of my husband.

Friends who will call me on my shit.

A renewed love and reconnection with my family.

Eyes that see and ears that hear you in the world — especially in my brothers and sisters who suffer but keep coming back.

A community of people to pray with.

The gift of faith that there is something better for all of us

— and the grace to look back without regret though eyes of resurrection,

the knowledge that whatever I ask for will be given,

and the firm conviction that everything will be fine.

Thanks, God.

Here is what I am asking for today:

Help me stay powerless.