“If serving is below you, leadership is beyond you.”
Anonymous
It is decidedly easy to choose not to celebrate Christmas when there is not much to celebrate. I am thankful for the roof over my head and the food I have to eat. I am thankful for my friends and of course my roommate. I am thankful for my parents and extended family. I am thankful to be able to borrow my dad’s car. I am thankful for my stubbornness, resilience, and determination. But I do not have my kids with me this holiday. I am not in good health. I have no money to purchase anyone gifts. It is hard to see families together and hear about my friends plans, parties, and vacationing. Yes, Christmas is only one day, but the days surrounding it are usually filled with anticipation, joy, and preparation, of which this year I have none. I plan to spend the break in my pajamas, working and distracting myself from the holidays. Fortunately, I am in sunny Florida and the turquoise skies and warm breezes make this easy to achieve.
When out of the blue, I get a call. Not many people call me anymore, especially from Louisiana. So, when I see a number from northern Louisiana, I am exceedingly happy— I know it is Senator John Milkovich— on Christmas Eve nonetheless. After I say hello, he asks to speak with me. I reply with thank you for calling Senator. He responds with—well you do not sound like a criminal. LOL. Of course not, I suggest it is because I am not one, to which we both laugh. It felt more like a call from a friend whom I have not spoken with in a while than a Senator. His intentions, sincerity, and honesty transpired throughout our conversation making it feel like a visit to church, a coffee shop, and grandma’s house all at the same time.
Our conversation focused mostly on the spirit— the spirit of the law, the spirit of Christmas, but most importantly, the spirit of humanity. Senator John Milkovich was not calling today to discuss the Louisiana State Board of Medical Examiners, even though that is what initially brought me to his attention. He said he had me on his mind and he felt like he needed to reach out and spread a message of hope today and for the coming year. How he knew I needed to hear this today I will never know, but his phone call made all the difference in my outlook. (Tears still well up in my eyes, even as I type this.) As I thanked him for taking the time to call me, he insisted its not him to thank but a higher calling, one that represents Christianity, the triumph of good over evil, blessings above curses, and hopefulness despite injustice. He lifted me up in prayer, not as an elected official, but as a kind, caring stranger. This call replenished everything that had been lacking not only in preparation for the Christmas holiday, but in my life. Senator Milkovich didn’t call me to secure my vote–I don’t even live in Louisiana anymore– he called to gift me with the best present anyone could ask for– concern, care, compassion, empathy, hope, love, and most importantly, value in this world. In his humble goodbye, again, he asked me to not thank him for calling, but instead encouraged me to reach out to others in need of this message and pay forward the spirit of hopefulness.
Sometimes we have to sit back and appreciate the mysteries of this world: how we came to be where we are today and who crossed our paths. Despite the many hardships I have faced over the last few years, its people like Senator Milkovich who make me appreciate the journey I have unfortunately taken and those who have blessed my life. It is a humbling reminder that we are not in charge and this world is not for us to understand. Eventually, we will have all the answers, but for now our role, whether we are Senators from Louisiana or out-of-hospital midwives, is to be the good in the world. And towards that noble endeavor I will graciously pay it forward.
My Journey as a Licensed Midwife in Louisiana 