It’s 10:48 am on Sunday, December 31st, 2017. I’m sitting on my couch with candles burning, sipping a fresh cup of coffee. I woke up with an expectation I haven’t felt in quite some time. Tomorrow a page turns. A new year. A new beginning. I’ve never been so ready to say farewell.
There’s not an easy way to sum up what 2017 has been for me. It’s been terrible and wonderful. It’s been full of heartache but also full of friendship and community. It’s been lonely, but I’ve started to find a sense of peace in the stillness. It was the year I experienced some of the greatest rejection of my life. But, it was also the year my people showed up and showed out. It was a year of unwelcomed personal change but one that offered long-awaited growth and advancement professionally.
Two thousand seventeen is the year I lived in tension.
There was a constant push and pull. It was all of this and all of that. There were incredible lows, but I didn’t live there. There were moments of great joy and days of sorrow. I laughed and I cried. Sometimes I laughed so I wouldn’t cry and, more than once, I cried from laughing so hard. There was a lot of processing and a fair amount of accepting. It was a year of broken promises but quiet reminders of the promise that God is always good and He has not forgotten me.
This year was heavy, but it feels like I’m walking into 2018 a bit lighter. I’m not full of hope, but I am hopeful. I don’t always feel strong, but I feel stronger than I did a year ago. I’m not full of expectation, but there is an expectancy for what is on the horizon.
I’m not naive enough to think my grief will suddenly come to an end when the clock strikes midnight. I know a new year won’t erase my current season or magically help me fast forward to what might be next. I will still wake up tomorrow morning in the middle of a divorce, in the middle of finding my place in a new city, and in the middle of wondering what in the world the Lord is doing in me, for me, with me.
It’s possible that 2017 will be a defining year in my life. It’s also possible that it’s just a blip on my radar. At the moment, I’m just grateful for the goodness it offered and glad to leave the rest behind.