Another year has passed, and I find myself getting sentimental and reflection-driven around my birthday (which also happens to be the end of the year). Ah those natural rhythms of reflection. Also, around this time, I like to go back through old journals to see just how far I’ve come – to reminisce on the beauty of the year, to remember the pain, and to celebrate the victories. For those of you who have known me any amount of time also know that I pick a word for the year every January and get a necklace made with the word etched onto a key. So here we are, December 2021 after months of having no words to share publicly. Bear with me, I’m rusty.
In order to see this year with any clarity, we have to go back. It’s July 2019 and I am on cloud nine. Things finally feel like they’re coming together. I’m excited, hopeful, and content with where life has taken me. Within one week in August, everything changed. It’s interesting how trauma has a way of bringing up a lifetime of pain, and mine was no exception. Then 2020 happened. Heartbreak, lack of clarity at work, a global pandemic, a job loss, a cross-country road trip, a new job. In the midst of those 18 months, pain was a close friend. She followed me everywhere. Thankfully, so did Jesus. I remember therapy sessions during that time where my counselor would ask me “where do you sense Jesus physically in this moment?” Session after session, the answer remained the same – “He’s right beside me.” “He’s one step ahead of me, holding my hand.” “He’s encouraging me to sit down next to him.” He always felt so, so close.
2019 was my “stand” year.
2020 was my “yes” year.
Enter 2021. My “behold” year.
“Remember not the former things,
nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
Isaiah 43:18-19, emphasis mine
Behold, I am doing a new thing.
A new thing? Yes please!
When I prayed over this word, I might have also prayed for new things that would be easy and great and fix all the pain from the previous couple of years.
Yet here we are, December 2021, and new, easy, great things haven’t really been the narrative either. Yes, there have been fantastic, great, new things this year – I’ve been promoted this year, moved into my own apartment, been a part of friends’ weddings, established deeper community, etc. And at the same time, it’s been a year of deep questioning and dealing with those feelings from the previous years. The church hurts that come from being a PK (pastor’s kid) and from being in ministry myself, the emotional stress of family members in and out of the hospital all year, the big move of my family, the stress of finding work/life balance as a 2 who just wants to help everyone so big. 2021 feels like a year of big both/and moments. Both excited and sad. Joyful and grieving.
Behold, I am doing a new thing.
This year has also brought about the first time in my life that I’m not a “professional Christian.” Let me define that for us: I am not in formal ministry (pastor, non-profit, RA at a Christian college) nor do people know me as a PK. While I hope my life is still a signpost to the Kingdom, I don’t get paid/fundraise to talk about it anymore. No one is looking for me on a Sunday morning to set up the welcome table nor am I constantly surrounded by other pastors and church leaders. I live a very normal, everyday person kind of life. I’ve worked weekends much of the year and have stayed connected to the small group in my neighborhood. I say all of that to get to this: this year has been a year of questioning and wrestling and wandering. Not away from God per say, but rather who God is and who he isn’t. I’ve been confronted with beliefs that I’ve held a long time that aren’t rooted in God’s words but in twisted religion and messed up people (not a judgment, just a reality of humanity).
Behold, I am doing a new thing. I will make a way in the wilderness.
I’m learning in this season what it looks like to trust that God is with me on this adventure, even when I feel like I’m questioning alone in the dark. He is making a way in the wilderness. Something new is being stirred in me, even in the pain and the grief.
Right before the pandemic lock down 18 months ago, God used a few people to speak messages of life and hope and promise into me that I’m still clinging onto. While I don’t always feel it, I am hopeful for what is to come and working on trusting in the words from Isaiah.
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
Perhaps you, too, are feeling a lot of these things. I hope you know you aren’t alone. That it’s okay to deconstruct and doubt while at the same time celebrating and experiencing hope. These things don’t exist as isolated experiences, nor are you alone in them.
May we hold tight to the promise that new things are springing forth. Even when the things from the past feel unbeatable and unbearable. May we have the courage to relentlessly pursue truth, even when it causes us to question the “status quo.”
I’m hopeful. And cautiously optimistic. Let’s see what you’ve got, year 27.