I sat down and began to write as I reflected on the things I’ve learned this past year. Honestly, 2020 seemed to be a really great year. My heart was in a good place and I felt like light was breaking through parts of me that I wasn’t sure would ever be okay. Though Covid had an impact on so much around me and on so many of those I love dearly, it didn’t change things too much in my world. It seemed nice to get away from the normal—whatever measure I was calculating that to be. Yet, as the year turned the corner, confusion hit and the somewhat steady ground beneath me began to shake. There were some big challenges I faced. There were unexpected things that were interlaced into these learning occurrences as well. The issue of not having a dad kept rising up for my Joah and Selah. It was like something I pushed deep inside a box in the back of an open closet and wasn’t ready to take out yet. I will share some of those thoughts in another post in the near future, but I was not expecting this topic to come out so quickly. Fear set in and overshadowed so many great things that God was doing. This fear and these challenges will be something I continue to process through as the days and months tiptoe into the new year. This processing is a never-ending marathon and though there are downhill portions where you feel the wind behind you and your breath getting stronger, there are also uphill battles of the mind and in the heart.

As I thought through my year, these particular ongoing issues seemed to stand out as things I’ve walked through, battled through, cried through and found immense joy in:

From my heart to Yours-Here’s what I learned from 2020.

1. Take a great amount of pictures: It is so important to capture moments and memories. 

Recently, I had a friend take notice of how often I take pictures. Sometimes I’m embarrassed by my excitement to capture sweet moments and things I want to remember. If you know me, I usually laugh at myself awkwardly when I get embarrassed. I say “I’m sorry” and then go on. However, in this short conversation, I had an answer to give. I shared that I tend to search for pictures of my life before heartache and tragedy hit. I look for happy moments with my late husband and for pictures of him smiling or holding the kids. Sometimes hours go by just to find one video of his laughter. However, I don’t have enough pictures to capture the moments I know that we experienced. Eric only had just over a year with the kids and my heart hurts to think I didn’t have those memories stored away. I take pictures because I want to remember. I keep pictures because I want to honor the good moments and even the ones that may sting some days when I am scrolling through my phone. Pictures remind us of relationships, of life lived, of love given and of joy, even if for just a brief time. I wish I had more of my life before, and though I cannot get that back, I do want to capture life in the present and not waste it.

2. It is okay to fall in love again and get hurt again. To say you loved unashamedly is a powerful gift. 

This one is difficult to accept and even more challenging to talk about. I’ll just say that selfless love is an amazing God-given sacrifice and I’m thankful to be human and to feel and believe, and understand it in such a personal way. God’s love is beyond comprehension and to grasp even an ounce of it and to share that with others, is life-giving—even if painful.

3. Take chances: Be courageous: Don’t be so afraid of failure.

As a Type Three on the Enneagram, I often fear failure (which is humorous because I often fail). Something the Lord has taught me is to ‘take courage,’ hold on to Him and trust. Trust isn’t always a choice. Sometimes we have no other choice but to let trust take over. God has proven over and over that through my failures, he is by my side. So I might as well continue to step out in faith and allow him to carry me. 

4. Silence matters to God.

Times of silence and stillness used to terrify me. Being busy and feeling purpose tends to satisfy my heart most days. Unfortunately, if 2020 taught us anything, it’s that we don’t have the control we think we do. I needed this reminder. I wrote out this prayer months ago and still pray it today.

“Lord, help me understand silence as a gift, help me see this vacancy as a home for you to come and sit a while. It’s just you and me again today, God, and I’ve learned to be okay with that.”

Silence can lean our hearts toward God. This is a truth I have learned in my times of silence and solitude.

4. Worshiping in pain can be some of the most powerful times ever experienced.

When Eric died, all I wanted to do was be in God’s presence. I remember barely a whisper coming out when I tried to sing to Him. All that I could mutter was the sweet words to the song, “give me Jesus.” This went on for a couple of months. Yet, the sounds from that one statement were beautiful and sacred between He and I. And, in my complete brokenness, I knew that it was enough to show glory and gratitude. This year has been a year of finding my voice again. When my weary body failed, he held my hands up in worship–trembling and weak, He lifted my arms in surrender. When strength began to follow in the months ahead, I found that He stood on stage beside me and led me to lead others to Him. Though my voice is still growing and getting stronger, I learned that the beauty wasn’t in my ability but in the story and the strength behind it. In the deepest parts of my sorrow, He was found there and my prayer will always be that He is seen through me.

5. Friendships can give you breath again.

Community gives breath. There were a few days when I didn’t think I’d make it. There is a difference between wanting to die and making a plan to. I would never do that, but there have been times I’ve wanted it all gone—the pain, the battle in my mind, the extreme sorrow and fear, the anxiety and the panic about our future. One of the best things I did this year was abide in scriptural truth and in community. One night I didn’t want to breathe again. The pain was too great, but I called a friend to sit by me and allowed her to see me at my worst. Though I was embarrassed that anyone would see me in that state, it was life breathing and that brought me back. God gives us community to to be His hands and feet—we only need to reach out to it.

6. Healing looks different than you expect, plan or imagine. 

This is a lesson I am ceaselessly learning. Proverbs speaks to it so clearly– “Many are the plans in a man’s mind, but God’s purpose prevails (19:21).” I still try to control my healing. I have plans and ideas of what that should look like but I am brought back to this truth from Proverbs time and time again. We must be okay with allowing God to use different avenues to teach and heal our hearts–especially when we didn’t plan for it.

7. Kids can be the most amazing gifts God gives us.

My kids have been the greatest teaching tool I’ve ever received. Parenting is a challenge, but the benefits from tiny humans far outweigh it all. My kids have kept me living. They keep me learning patience and selflessness. I am so thankful to have them as reminders of God’s constant, love, forgiveness and grace.  

8.  When everything seems to be taken away, let our love abound and fill in those empty places. 

This is what 2020 will continue to teach me into the new year. Tangled between some amazing happenstances were some fairly gaping wounds. So many that it would be too much to explain and some things need only be spoken to Jesus. A friend of mine said to me “this life is full of losses.” This is a reality that so many of us understand far too well. Yet, here comes the reframe…those losses leave undeniable pain yet are filled with promises of hope. Love is what has grown in this year of pandemic–love for Jesus, love for the things we have, love for life, love for God’s Word, love for others. That is what I’ve gained from everything I’ve learned. My prayer for 2021 is to continue to fill those places of heartache and loss with love—not of my own but that of Jesus. He is our hope and firm foundation. His love overpowers anything we experience in a year. And for that, I am thankful for 2020 and excited for 2021.