2020: The “Yes” Year

2020. My “yes” year. Not *quite* what I expected. I rediscovered my Facebook status where I shared the word I felt the Holy Spirit laid on my heart for this year (you can find that below). And I’ve struggled to look back on the year through this lens. Why was this my yes year when it seemed full of loud “no’s”?

Back in January, I was so hopeful and expectant about what was to come. I’ve had to grieve a lot this year my dreams, expectations, hopes – as have many of you. And I’ve done quite a bit of writing about that over the year (both publicly and privately).

As I’ve been reflecting this week, I found myself wondering how this year could possibly bring about any form of the word “yes.”

And then I found old journals.

I was NOT emotionally prepared to relive the past 2 years in my most vulnerable state through writing. My move to New York was anything but easy, and the circumstances I’ve encountered along the way have challenged me deeply.

BUT I found something I had forgotten from back in March. Right before the pandemic. Right before everything came crumbling down.

The first week of March was as normal as they come. I was in Orlando for a conference with my Forge tribe. While I was there, I documented what several close to me had spoken over me for this season – mostly because I, 1) didn’t believe their words and needed to process it and 2) I thought it was crazy.

When I reread these words , I laugh-cried. You guys, God used those people to speak directly into what I was about to face. In ways that I could not even have imagined.

One that I’d like to share with you is what a dear friend and fellow NYCer said to me as we drove from one thing to another. He said, “Be open and ready for whatever this new season brings. I have a feeling that your life is going to look different over the next several months. Be ready to say yes.”

When I heard this, I think I secretly rolled my eyes. I liked the rhythm I had fallen into (even though things were getting hard, and I started feeling restless). I didn’t want anything to change.

One week later, COVID hit NYC and we were in lockdown.

Two months later, I officially had no job to go back to.

Four months later, I started a new job that I’m loving.

Eight months later, I’m an assistant general manager at said new job, and have opportunities to learn and grow as a professional.

I don’t say this to say that things are super awesome and easy now. I know several who are still affected by unemployment and are worried about what happens next. I share simply to show how I have had to make personal “yes” decisions that have led me here.

This year, I’ve had to say yes to self-care. In that, I’ve acknowledged where I am oh so broken, and given myself space to process and grieve accordingly. I said yes to a 4,200 mile road trip that has been more transformational than I could ever explain – you’d just have to see me before/during/after to have some idea. I tried to write through it, but the words still haven’t quite landed for me.

I’ve had to say yes to grief. Isn’t that a funny thing? Allowing yourself to feel a certain emotion? But here I am. Daily giving myself permission to hold both grief and joy in each hand.

I’ve learned to say yes to saying no. I took a job at a different restaurant before I was offered one at the cafe where I currently work. But when the cafe called, I felt better about it than the other. So I quit a job after filling out all the paperwork on the day of orientation for a job that has turned out to be a great fit. BUT I had no idea that’s how it would turn out, so I learned how to say yes when I am afraid.

It’s been an unconventional yes year. It has not been filled with big, exciting, warm-fuzzy events. I have cried more tears, felt more hopeless, and questioned my whole life in ways that I have never experienced before. I got this fun tattoo this year of a wildflower as a symbol of God’s faithfulness over the past 2.5 years. And boy, has He been faithful this year. I said yes to following Jesus into NYC back in 2018, and He has not brought me this far to leave me. This year, I’ve questioned if the yes to NYC had turned into a no. But there is something still stirring in me here, and I’m not sure I ever want to leave permanently. So I’m learning what it looks like to continue to say yes to this life, here, with the people around me. And man is it a beautiful, messy, chaotic, wild, and peace-filled ride.

I have no idea what 2021 will hold. And I’ve let go of trying to figure it out. But I do know that I am becoming more like the person I’ve been created to be. It’s a messy journey at times, but I’m still here, learning and growing through it. May my love and my presence be more and more representative of the One who loves me unconditionally and created me uniquely. And may I be unconditionally loving of the unique people around me as I become more like Light.

Here’s to putting 2020 in the past and stepping into a new year.

4 years ago

twenty-five

Here we are, friends. 25 years of life. A quarter of a century old, if you will.

This has been without a doubt one of the hardest years of my life. From PTSD and heartbreak to a global pandemic and losing all illusions of control. As I’ve been reflecting this week, I can’t help but feel weird about where I am and where I’m going. Something about 25 feels significant. Maybe because it’s a milestone year you talk about throughout high school and college? “By 25, I want to…” And yet everything is not what I thought it would be.

In a moment of vulnerability, one of the biggest wrestling points this week has been around the expectations of marriage and family. When I look outside of my NYC community, I see mostly married (or seriously dating) 25 year old’s. Some have kids. Some buy houses. And I guess I always I’d be there, too. Most everyone in my family was married young, most Christian college friends are married. And that’s great, it’s just not my story. I feel as if I am paving a new way towards 30 that many of my friends and family didn’t experience. I’m not trying to make it sound like my experience is so unique that nobody would understand – because I know there are those out there like me, who feel alone in it. And maybe that’s the root of this birthday reflection. It feels lonely to be where I am, in the midst of a pandemic, being reminded on social media that I’m not like some of my peers.

From 24 to 25, there have been many tears and lots of reflective silence. There’s also been joys, however small. I traveled, took time for myself, and invested deeper into relationships around me. I’ve appreciated the changing seasons in ways I didn’t know possible. Easter and Christmas have regained meaning in my soul. Even in the pain, there has been light. Several friends and my counselor gave me the same encouragement this week – that I am growing and learning and becoming a healthier and whole person. It’s been painful. But God is with me, guiding me along the journey He has set for me. It’s not perfect and it’s not the journey everyone takes, but it’s mine. I am becoming more like the person I was created to be with every step forward, however difficult. I’m learning to love well, help altruistically, and care for myself better so that I can do the other things well.

If I could offer any encouragement to you, it’s this. Quit comparing your story to everyone else’s. You are not “behind.” You are not less worthy because you are single. Even here, you will not miss out on what is meant for you. You aren’t alone for feeling the ways you’re feeling. (Now to continue repeating that to myself…)

Even in the sorrow of the year, I am anxiously awaiting all that I will learn this next year. May Light continue to work in and through me as I become more like love.

4 years ago