Nightbirde – Born 1990-12-29. Died 2022-02-19. 31 years of age.
For singer-songwriter Jane Marczewski, choosing Nightbirde as her stage name came from a recurring dream.
In the midst of an undesired divorce that left her alone to battle an aggressive cancer, she dreamed of birds outside her bedroom window. They were singing morning songs in the darkness of night before daylight was even visible.
Jane wanted her music to embrace that same defiant, early-morning hope. To be a person who could sing through a dark time “because I was so full of hope and assurance that there would be a morning.”
Birds singing as if it were morning when there were no signs of it yet. Nightbirde looking through the darkness of abandonment and cancer to see the brightness of life as a gift.
This attitude embodies the mystery of faith described in the Book of Hebrews: “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (11.1). Such a perspective transcends the realm of human reason. The words come from a religious book but are applicable to all aspects of life.
America’s Got Talent (AGT).
On June 8, 2021, Nightbirde sang “It’s Okay,” an original song she composed, as an audition before Simon Cowell and his panel of judges. I encourage you to watch it.
During her conversation with the judges, several of Nightbirde’s comments stunned the panel with a poignant simplicity that cut through to the heart.
“It’s important to know that I’m so much more than the bad things that happened to me.”
“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy.”
“I have a 2% chance of survival. But 2% is not 0%. 2% is something. And I wish people knew how amazing it is.”
Her song and story had a powerful impact on the judges. Simon awarded Nightbirde the Golden Buzzer which allowed her to skip all the intermediate elimination rounds and go straight to the live shows.
She never got there.
On August 2, 2021, Nightbirde withdrew from America’s Got Talent to fight a renewed attack of her cancer. She died on February 19, 2022 at the age of 31 years.
Nightbirde’s ability to frame the largest life concepts in the smallest word packages continued to her deathbed. She talked about how we process pain: “Grieving is the soul’s way of saying it mattered.”
A story behind the story.
Over 200 million people have viewed Nightbirde’s audition on America’s Got Talent. What they saw and heard was overwhelming in its affirmation of the human spirit in the face of life’s adversities. What has not been so obvious is the life of faith that Nightbirde clung to through her difficult journey.
In language stripped of all pretense or presumption, Nightbirde’s journal recorded her ‘wrestling with God.’ She expressed the honesty of someone who sought a ‘face to face’ relationship with her Creator.
“I am God’s downstairs neighbour, 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 fear sometimes that when I die and meet with God, that He will say I disappointed Him, or offended Him, or failed Him . . .
“But one thing I know for sure is this: He can never say that He did not know me.”
How can I read those words and not marvel at the outcry of a soul laid low by the pains of living (and dying); but also a soul laid bare at the feet of the One who brings a morning song in the midst of the night.
Interview with NBC.
Catapulted to instant fame after her audition, on June 21 Nightbirde was interviewed by NBC. She provided more context for her life as a Christian –
“There is no area of my life where my faith is not going to seep into it – that’s impossible. It’s part of the core of me.”
“When it comes to pain, God isn’t often in the business of taking it away. Instead, he adds to it. He is more of a giver than a taker. He doesn’t take away my darkness, he adds light. He doesn’t spare me of thirst, he brings water. He doesn’t cure my loneliness, he comes near.”
A life well lived.
In cards and salutations, we often wish people a long and healthy life. And yet, for many of us, it is neither long nor healthy.
Nightbirde passed from this life at 31 years of age. Her body disappointed her. Her husband abandoned her. Cancer destroyed her future. A potential future she enjoyed for a brief moment while standing on the stage of America’s Got Talent.
Perhaps we should change our message from “I wish you a long and healthy life” to “I wish you a life well lived.”
That does change the message. It can now include a special needs child who dies at the age of 10 but has dramatically transformed her parents and others during those difficult and fleeting years. It can include a 19-year-old who volunteered to serve and perished in a foreign land for a war that defied understanding.
And, “I wish you a life well lived” includes 31-year-old Nightbirde who touched millions of lives in such a brief span of time.
It gets personal very quickly.
Many of us have relatives or friends dealing with health issues that could easily consume every waking hour. Afflictions that are life-altering and potentially life-ending.
Will they be overwhelmed by the uncertainty and anxiety that constantly pulls at them? Would I? Can they free themselves from the questions and fears to still enjoy the warmth of the sun, the coolness of a breeze, the presence of loved ones? Could I? I don’t know. And I won’t know unless tested in a similar manner.
What I do know is the example they model for me in two ways.
First, their honesty with the sorrow, the pain, and even the tears of their present situation. As a friend said recently, with every new medical report, “Every time, you have to deal with the reality.”
But second, and even more impactful, is their desire to face the discord of present circumstances with the strength of a vibrating assurance and seed of hope. As with Nightbirde, their life essence is not defined by what is happening right now.
People find meaning and motivation from a diversity of religious and non-religious perspectives on what life and death are all about. Those I am thinking of at the moment are people of Christian faith. They decided at some point in time that their lives are not their own. They belong to a Creator, a Redeemer, and a Sustainer as revealed through the Christian Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Now, when tested in ways they could never imagine, they are doing their best to honour that relationship with strength even in the midst of weakness. And, with Nightbirde, at least on good days, they can lean back, look up to the sky, shake off some of the dust of earthly frailty, and say,
“It’s okay.”