Vulnerable Thoughts: A Remembrance of Nightbirde
Yesterday, December 29th, was Nightbirde’s birthday, and I wanted to pause in remembrance.
Nightbirde—Jane Marczewski—was a singer, songwriter, and storyteller whose courage, faith, and honesty touched millions. In 2021, she stepped onto the America’s Got Talent stage and shared her song “It’s OK,” along with her story of living with cancer. Her words, her joy, and her peace in the midst of suffering offered hope to people all over the world.
Jane passed away in 2022, but her light has not gone out. Her music, her words, and her legacy continue to remind us that life can be both beautiful and hard—and that we don’t have to choose between gratitude and grief.
One of her quotes that I return to often is this:
“There’s a lot of reasons to be afraid. And there’s a lot of reasons to be thankful. Life is both beautiful and hard. We don’t have to pick one. When we can hold both, we are fully alive.”
Vulnerable Thoughts
Good evening. I’m going to be really vulnerable tonight.
I needed some time to myself, and I wrote some things in my journal that I felt might be useful to share.
I’ve been listening to Nightbirde—singer and songwriter—and learning more about her story, her battle with cancer, and yet the hope and joy she carried and shared. What amazes me is that darkness didn’t scare her or stop her. She knew she was okay. She even had a song that says, “It’s OK.”
I wrote:
Lord, I’m not even dealing with looming death or a shortened life due to my pain—my chronic pain, perhaps—and yet I have a hard time finding joy. Why is it so hard? Why does it feel like something is blocking me from feeling Your love, Your joy, Your peace?
I’ve been feeling very convicted about how I point the finger, blame, and criticize. I don’t want to be that person. I want to be someone who loves, who is patient, who is understanding, who seeks good.
I asked myself why.
Why do I do this?
Is it because of the wounding from those closest to me—those who hurt me, wounded me, betrayed me? Even people I thought would always be there until the end. Has that trauma caused me to shut off my heart? To almost expect pain in advance? To build walls and defenses because I know I’ll get hurt?
Love is vulnerability. It is scary. It is risky.
Yes, you may get hurt. You probably will.
But life without love—shut off, lonely, hurt, angry, ruminating in old wounds—is its own kind of suffering.
So what’s the real risk?
At least with love, you experience warmth. Joy. Beauty. Intimacy. Closeness.
God is love.
And God loved us so much—how much did He risk?
He knew there would be hurt, sorrow, and betrayal, and yet He still chose to come down to us as a baby in a manger. Here it is—Christmas. He chose to love us, to walk among us, to suffer with us.
While sharing His life, He loved. He forgave. He was patient. He was kind.
Even in the midst of harshness and hate, He kept loving—even His enemies.
So why?
Is it just because He’s God? Because He has a strength that I don’t?
I think it’s because He knows that’s not where the story ends.
Yes, He died for us—the death we deserved. He was innocent.
But He also resurrected.
And because of His suffering, we live. We are forgiven. We are made new.
This is the good news He knew He was bringing to us.
God is in the business of turning dirt into beautiful things—transforming our pain into blessings. Maybe we’re so focused on the shadow behind us that we miss the sun beaming in front of us.
So, Lord, this is what I ask—and maybe you ask this too:
Let me be brave. Let me love again. Break these chains and these walls.
I don’t want to live closed off—holding on to pain, hurt, and unforgiveness.
I want to truly move forward and forgive as You forgive.
I want Your reliability and consistency to be enough.
People will let me down. I will get hurt.
But I will never be broken. Never abandoned.
Because You are always there—with arms wide open—saying, “My daughter, I love you. I will never forsake you. It’s okay. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
In Remembrance
As I share these words today, I do so in remembrance of Nightbirde—for her courage, her honesty, and the light she chose while suffering.
May her story continue to remind us that it’s okay to be human, to hold both grief and gratitude, and to keep choosing love—even when it feels risky.
Watch the original video reflection here:https://youtu.be/Ca0PY9zB6lk
If you’re drawn to faith-centered reflections like this, you can find this video and others on our Faithful Reflections page, created as a quiet space for reflection, prayer, and hope.
Written by Rebecca Muyres, LPC, CPCS, RPT-S, CCTP, CATP
Owner, Creative Family Counseling & Coaching