"When you find your purpose, you can't ho no mo."*

Today was Alabama HIV/AIDS Awareness Day, the day when the AIDS Service Organizations and persons living with HIV from around the state head to Montgomery to meet with their legislators at the State House.  It’s one of my favorite days of the year, selfishly because I’m always challenged and blessed in some new way.   And because it’s one of the only days I’m surrounded by former prostitutes, junkies, and ex-cons, and somehow that’s good for me every now and then.

Each year, we have a lunch with speakers.  This year, the first speaker was a lady that I’ve met several times.  Actually, she was the first Alabamian with HIV I ever knowingly met when she came to Capitol Hill to lobby for the Ryan White Care Act.  Near the end of her talk she said “A lot of us don’t know we can say Help me, I messed up.”  Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever known that until very recently.  First of all, I didn’t think I could mess up (as in it would not be allowed and surely I’d been in too many small groups for that to happen anyway and I’ve built my life system to be generally impervious to messing up – aside from being really messy and occasionally frantic, of course).  Second of all, if I ever were to mess up, as if the shame, failure, and humiliation of messing up would let me ask for help. 
The fleshy human pride part of me started arguing, “But of course she can say she messed up and ask for help.  She’s an addict with HIV that gave HIV to her kid.  People expect that of her.”  Ouch.  FYI – the Holy Spirit won’t let you entertain that thought for long, because maybe I’m a human in need of mercy just the same as her but I’m too proudly building the mirage of a princess-castle-front life to ask for it. (I feel the need to make an analogy with my She-Ra Princess Falls toy that cost a lot and always looked pretty but the fresh water never did flow out like it should, but I’ll spare you). 
And lest we not forget, judgments of others can become self-prophecies.  Furthermore, if we really believe Jesus, then my goody-goody- perfectionist definition of what “messing up” looks like for me is really no different than what “messing up” looks like for an addict that made a bad choice – at least when it comes down to receiving grace, love, and mercy from the Father.  (However, the earthly consequences of needing to forgive a coworker and compromising your children’s safety for drug money might not look the same).   What is it about me that makes me need to be with a group of people stigmatized by society to accept my own freely given freedom?

 

Later in the day, I was in a group of a couple other WAAO board folks and four men living with HIV.  The first has only been diagnosed in the past year and thought surely he would die.  We got him plugged into support and services and he’s thriving and he’s such an inspiration.  The next man has been living with HIV since the 90s, and his story is what made the previous man realize he was going to live.  The third was a young man that was so withdrawn and trapped in his own skin when I met him that I was concerned for his trajectory.  Today, he was fired up and a leader.  He even asked to take fake album cover photos together.  The fourth young man I had never met and I never heard him say a word.  He seemed overwhelmed but engaged and there for more than a free lunch. 

So, there we were, all sitting in our State Senator’s office together.  All four of them squished together on one couch because they’d never met a Senator before and they were hesitant to separate and use the other chairs.  And the young man I had been so concerned about looked the Senator in the eye and said he was there to ask for $5 million dollars in the state budget for the AIDS Drug Assistance Program that allows him to live.  I was so proud.  He was so proud and they were all so excited.  Within the hour, they had created their own advocacy strategies and were organizing a personal letter writing campaign.       

All of these things reminded me why I’m blessed to Get to serve people with HIV.  This day was an answer to prayer for me because recently life had numbed out my passion.  I knew this numbness contradicted years of God’s direction to serve here, but I was still scared and confused and afraid to say it out loud.  Today I remembered and I realized I still have my own little weird special part to play in the big picture and I’m where I’m supposed to be (and sometimes that’s in a politician’s office with folks of the potentially black, gay, fresh outta prison, new start, living on purpose variety) .    

* Title taken from one of my favorite HIV advocates and one of today's speakers.