Arlette's Story

Our stories evolve like the epic novel and demand the space to chronicle life, writ large. 152 minutes separate my maternal grandfather's homegoing and my birth - a peculiar prologue. Grandpa passed shortly before I was born. Mom’s siblings feared that the news would thwart the birth experience; my father concurred. She would not know until hours after I was born. I entered the world just as God called Grandpa home, born into divinity and silent sorrow. We were “two ships passing in the night”, according to family lore - a crossing that evokes Maya Angelou’s “Passing Time”:

Your skin like dawn
Mine like dusk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

We were spirit, not skin; the crossing seems a bittersweet tale of life and death, beginning and end. But it is also a tale of God's plan for regeneration, the sacred continuity of generations. God imparted to both of us the gift of colors, an indelible mark.

I became ill toward the end of my second semester of my first year at the University of Virginia, mired in the secret despair and silent sorrow of those who live with mental difference. This continued for seven circuitous years: I worked in fields ranging from marketing to substitute teaching while silently navigating the roller coaster that is Bipolar II disorder. I was most happy when affiliated with bookstores: literature was my passion and truth. I followed my bibliodreams to New York City and the publishing industry, but soon found myself in seminary: I could no longer ignore my call to ministry. When I matriculated at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York to pursue public interest lay ministry I thought that I finally understood the difference between God’s dreams and our own.

I had no intention of becoming a chaplain, but during my first of four units of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at Bellevue Hospital Center (Units 1, 2, and 4) and NYU Langone Health (Unit 3) I realized that God had ordered my steps to this wonderful end. It was no coincidence that the theme of the first unit was the "illness narrative." God intended my painful story that I might receive those of others. These meta stories speak to my spirit, touch my heart in the "innermost places."

Chaplains are patient readers of patient’s stories, attuned to the “music behind the words.” Few people knew my truth prior to CPE. Patients taught me to honor my narrative, my heart’s song. Some of their journeys evoked my own and as we braved the night, I realized that once immersed in darkness, we invited light.

There is power in our stories and a purpose for our pain. Shine your light beautiful light!

- Arlette Estelle -

True Colors © 2026 Rev. Arlette E. Jackson. All Rights Reserved. Neither the concept or any written or illustrated portion of this text may be reproduced without the written consent of the author and illustrator.