10/06/2021
Jane (Nightbirde) in her own words:
โAfter the doctor told me I was dying, and after the man I married said he didnโt love me anymore,
I chased a miracle in California and sixteen weeks later, I got it.
The cancer was gone. But when my brain caught up with it all, something broke.
I later found out that all the tragedy at once had caused a physical head trauma, and my brain was sending false signals of excruciating pain and panicโฆ
I am Godโs downstairs neighbor, banging on the ceiling with a broomstick.
I show up at His door every day. Sometimes with songs, sometimes with curses.
Sometimes apologies, gifts, questions, demands. Sometimes I use my key under the mat to let myself in.
Other times, I sulk outside until He opens the door to me Himself.
I have called Him a cheat and a liar, and I meant it. I have told Him I wanted to die, and I meant it.
Tears have become the only prayer I know. Prayers roll over my nostrils and drip down my forearms.
They fall to the ground as I reach for Him. These are the prayers I repeat night and day; sunrise, sunset.
Call me bitter if you want toโthatโs fair.
Count me among the angry, the cynical, the offended, the hardened.
But count me also among the friends of God. For I have seen Him in rare form.
I have felt His exhale, laid in His shadow, squinted to read the message He wrote for me in the grout: โIโm sad too.โ