The Eighth Reflection

The nightmare is over. There. I said it. It’s over. And it’s because I received the best present I’ll ever receive on Christmas Eve: the gift of understanding.

Over the last 8 months or so, my life has been filled with so much uncertainty, so much betrayal, so much fear, and more plot twists than I can count. I’ve been abused this year. I’ve been screamed at this year. I’ve been belittled this year. I’ve been told that I’d never make it. I almost quit my job twice. I’ve cried more this year than I have for a while. And, when this was mentioned to HR as being the result of treatment by someone I work with, it was brushed off as “you’ve survived this long, I’m sure you can keep going”

And yet, the nightmare is over. Why?

I went to mass on Christmas Eve with my family. I wasn’t looking forward to this. My family has kinda been on the edge of implosion for a while now, and every moment I have to spend with them, I’m constantly trying to find a way out. And tonight was no different: I was looking for a way out. I was looking to escape. And by no coincidence, I wasn’t able to find one. So I went to mass with my family

I sat next to my sister Monica and her daughter, Hani. Monica’s daughter, whose dad is my sister’s ex boyfriend, was the highlight of the mass for me, in terms of entertainment value. She’s still a baby and was doing normal baby things, and Monica spent a lot of the time holding her daughter. I remember the night Monica and her boyfriend broke up, and seeing Monica sitting on the couch at my dad’s house at one in the morning, absolutely defeated by this situation, is a memory that I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I may try (and no matter what abuse I go through). But she showed up tonight with her daughter and they went to mass with us, because, whether she believes it or not, her nightmare is over too

The priest talked tonight about how Jesus was born in Bethlehem after his parents had traveled there for the census, which had been called by the world rulers at the time. And how the whole story doesn’t revolve around these people who have been empowered by the world around them, but rather focuses on two young people and an infant. While the world focused on and allowed their lives to be upended by the big and mighty and powerful people, God focused (and continues to focus) on the normalcy of two people, who happen to have an extraordinary faith that God will provide them with the strength to carry on. And by being given the strength that had been promised, Mary gives birth to the son of God, who would upend the worry and doubt that we as people all have, and that I’ve been feeling a lot of these past few months.

The priest continued on in his homily to say “there is no coincidence in any part of God’s plan”

And as soon as he said this, my dad and I made direct eye contact. I remembered what he told me when I was struggling after my breakup. He wrote those exact words down on a slip of paper for me, and that slip was stuck to the fridge with the same magnets that once held a love letter from the girl who would eventually abuse me to the point where I would lose sight of reality almost entirely, and where the fallout that resulted from the breakup would almost lead me to my own self destruction and my own demise. But unlike that note from my ex, this small slip of paper was filled to the brim with truth: there is no such thing as a coincidence

Before I left for Mass, I stopped by my mailbox since I had something delivered. It was the 10 year anniversary vinyl for Porter Robinson’s album Worlds. I used to listen to Worlds a lot with my mom, and I owned a copy of it on vinyl at one point that I eventually gave to my (now ex) girlfriend. I never asked for that vinyl back, and the 10 year anniversary album came out a few weeks after the breakup, on August 12th. I immediately ordered it when it dropped, because I wanted to replace the version I gave to my ex. It showed up on Christmas Eve and I opened it up when I got home from mass with my family. I carefully opened up the shipping sleeve, took the album, with it’s holographic cover, out, just to immediately see the colors of the lights in my apartment reflecting off the cover and back onto my face. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect

This album, which I used to listen to with my mom, and helped me cope with a lot of stress and sadness when I was growing up, that I had given away to someone who I thought cared about me and loved me, was back in my possession. And not only was it back in my possession, but it was reflective now. It was different. It was like I had given something away, only to have it given back to me, refined and polished and in a better condition than I had given it away in

I see my heart in this moment. I gave it away. I gave it to someone who stomped on it and shattered it into a million pieces, then threw those pieces so far away and allowed them to scatter in the wind that I was afraid I’d never get them back, even in pieces. And tonight, it was returned to me in one piece, polished and refined and in a better condition than I gave it away in

I took the album out of the shipping sleeve and saw the reflections of the light in the artwork. I saw the lights reflecting and refracting and showing all sorts of beautiful colors. But it wasn’t until I picked the album up to take a picture of it, that I saw my own reflection in the cover of this album.

On the cover of an album about escapism, I saw my reflection staring back at me. My face was reflected back at me, alongside the beautiful colors of the rainbow coming from the lights in my apartment. I saw myself in this album. Literally

I know Christmas isn’t about the material objects we have or receive, but that doesn’t mean that the material objects of this world can’t help us to understand and appreciate the infinity beauty of God, who wants nothing more than to ease our suffering, comfort those who fear that they may never feel loved, and care for those who are tossed aside by the big and mighty and powerful people, empowered by the world around them. These people can take away my job, they can rip my sanity away from me right in front of my eyes, they can condemn me to a life of suffering and sadness and fear, but they can’t take away the one thing that allows us to continue forward: joyful celebration that we have the omnipotent and all powerful God of the universe on our side, loving us and caring for us even to the point of becoming one of us so that we may better understand how to become more loving and caring like God

And there is no coincidence in this. None of this was by accident. None of this was a mistake. None of this was a joke. There will be nobody jumping out from behind a multiviewer and blowing a horn in my face and yelling surprise and throwing confetti at me

And even though that’s the case, I’m still here. There is no confetti. There are no horns. But there is the fact that life changes with just a tiny bit of faith and hope

And there is also the reality that I’m very aware of now that the nightmare is over now. All because of two young people with unimaginable faith in something much greater than themselves, that would give way to the possibility of joy to more people than just themselves, and inspire me to find the tiniest slice of hope in a newborn child on Christmas Eve