My new tattoo

I was sitting in the 10th row of the Rend Collective/MercyMe concert last year when I decided what I wanted to get for my next tattoo. (I had three from when I was 18-20 that had since been removed.) The lyrics of “Hallelujah Anyway” sung by the energetic Irish band Rend Collective rang out and grabbed me.

I'll find a way to praise You From the bottom of my broken heart 'Cause I think I'd rather strike a match than curse the dark Yeah, I'll find a way to thank You Though the bitterness is real and hard 'Cause I'd rather take a chance on hope than fall apart

I don't think I'm ready to surrender to the dark, no

Even if my daylight never dawns Even if my breakthrough never comes Even if I'll fight to bring You praise Even if my dreams fall to the ground Even if I'm lost, I know I'm found Even if my heart will somehow say Hallelujah anyway

Yeah, I hear a hymn of triumph In thе wilderness of my lament In thе lowlands or the mountain tops, I won't forget All that goodness that You have shown me The promises that You have kept There's better days on the horizon up ahead

Even if my daylight never dawns Even if my breakthrough never comes Even if I'll fight to bring You praise, oh-oh-oh Even if my dreams fall to the ground Even if I'm lost, I know I'm found Even if my heart will somehow say Hallelujah anyway

All c'mon, now Let it rise Let it rise In the dark or the wild Oh, my soul stands by If you got a soul then sing let it rise

Then, the headliner MercyMe sang “Even If”, and it seemed like a sign to solidify the idea that had started earlier that night.

I wanted a permanent reminder, right where I could see it, that it’s my job to CHOOSE to look for the light even if it’s dark, to find reasons to continue to have faith even if it doesn’t feel like things will ever change, to find something to be grateful for even if everything seems to be going wrong, to hold on to my sobriety even if circumstances feel like scary, challenging, hard, all at the same time, to continue to stay the course even if I feel lost, knowing that I am in good hands.

When I first got sober, one of the expressions I heard a lot was “accepting life on life’s terms” – but if I am honest, I didn’t understand it fully. The way it was explained to me was that it meant that we took life as it came and did our best to continue doing the best we could under whatever circumstances popped up.

That seemed like a good thing to say I agreed with, so it became one of the slogans that I held onto. However, my commitment to acceptance was more like reading the long terms and conditions of a new account at the bank and instead of reading them all the way through, just scrolling to the bottom and clicking accept.

I had a lot of reservations about staying sober through challenging circumstances, and had a mental list of things that I would be “allowed” to drink over. They were things like divorce (even though I wasn’t even married), losing a job, losing my dad (my mom was already gone by that time and I drank heavily to deal with the grief), getting terminally ill. I also had a list of happy occasions that would be sufficient reasons to “celebrate’: getting married, a new job, buying a house, having a child.

As it turns out, there’s more to acceptance than first meets the eye. Recently, I heard the best definition of acceptance that I’ve come across in twenty years. “Acceptance doesn’t mean I have to condone a particular situation. It simply means that I can better assess what is going on without the filters of my past and without comparison to what I would consider a more ideal circumstance.”

The longer I stuck around and listened to the people sharing at meetings, I heard them share about accepting both those challenging and happy circumstances I had on my lists and maintaining their sobriety and relationship with God throughout them. They showed me what true acceptance really looked like. They came and shared even if they were scared, excited, lonely, happy, sad, proud, angry, content or broken-hearted. They continued to lean on their faith even if they felt like all hope was lost. They continued to lean on the program even if they didn’t feel like it. They continued to lean on the fellowship of sober alcoholics that had become like family even if they really wanted to isolate and hide.

There are examples all around me, if I pay attention, of people that are choosing to have faith even if things are not going as they would like. The gentleman at church that shows up every week even if his medical treatments make him feel lousy, the woman at work that does random acts of kindness for others even if her home life is unraveling, the family member that shows up to help take care of an ailing parent even if they just lost their job.

That’s the kind of faith I want to have – and I am working on it, even if sometimes, I fall short or don’t feel like it.

The past few years have certainly had their challenges, along with some great moments too. Between January and March of 2020, I got divorced, moved into a new home, and changed jobs. Then, the pandemic turned our lives upside down, in all the ways everyone else experienced, and we got a new dog…that needed $7000 worth of surgery a few months after we rescued her. I changed jobs again in 2021 to work on an 18-month grueling project. Then, my father got very sick and ultimately, passed away. In 2022, the project ended and I got my dream job. During all of that, I lost two very good friends due to unforeseen circumstances and found new friends in very unexpected places. I also joined a couple of dating apps and muddled my way through being single again in my 40’s.

None of that has turned out as I would have planned, and yet, I have to accept that is just life on life’s terms. I don’t have to look at through the filters of baggage from my past or try to compare it to what I think life should be like. Now, all day long, I am reminded to trust that God has me covered, even if I can’t see it yet.