Still I Rise

1When the LORD brought back the captive ones of Zion, we were like those who dream.
2Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting; then they said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."
3The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad.
Psalms 126:1-3

Every year, as my birthday approaches, I take a look back on my life. It is a miracle to me. My life has been full of hurt and pain that would cause me to consider quitting, but it has also been full of joy and happiness that consistently urges me onward. The joy and happiness I have experienced overshadows the pain and makes the journey so worthwhile. As I survey how I have evolved into the person I am now, I am amazed at the power of God. I can relate to the author of Psalms 126. God has brought me out of captivity and still continues to do so. It is like a dream to me the life I live in the freedom only God can provide. My mouth has been filled with laughter and my tongue with joyful shouting. My God has done great things for me and my family, and I am glad.
It would be easy to dwell on the part of my life that was filled with the pain of captivity. It would be easy to focus on the hurt and the pain. It would be easy to be bitter for the things I did not have and should have gotten. It would be so easy. But I came across a poem recently written by Maya Angelou. And while she is speaking of the slavery of her people, I felt a connection with her. For my people too have been enslaved. They were not held captive by a visible oppressor, but by an invisible one. Our prison has not been one made of steel, but one made of fear and self-loathing. I have fought to be freed and have won my freedom at a great price. So, for me to choose to live in the pain of my past, would be to dishonor all those who have come before me.
My God has been good and has given me the grace and strength to rise and be joyful.
I leave you with a portion of Maya's poem, Still I Rise.

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.