The turning of another year often finds us reflecting on incredible joys, profound loss, and everything in between. I’m no different in that regard. I’m also guilty of setting goals and then pooping out by mid-February. So here I find myself again. Looking back. Examining. Frustrated at some of the silly and downright ridiculous things I’ve allowed, but also encouraged by those unexpected surprises.
January found me taking a group of ladies on my first “guided” respite. I honestly had no idea what I was doing. But I wanted to be obedient to what I believed God was instilling in me. SUCCESS!! (I’ve now taken a second group and have a third one scheduled for February.) This was a wonderful example of doing something “scared”.
February was a quiet month of contemplation, a conference, and getting anxious for spring.
March marked 23 years since Michael died. I doubt that I ever stop writing about it, learning from it, and being changed by it.
April introduced spring’s fresh beginnings and all the work accompanying it. I fell in bed exhausted most evenings, but so very grateful for life and all of my blessings.
May found me writing more frequently (privately and publicly). I learned valuable lessons and sifted the pain of loss with a friend.
June was busy. A trip to NYC, fun outings with the granddaughters, and I hosted my first “Girls’ Day” complete with yummy food, chickens to feed, pigs to pet, flowers to identify, pottery to make, and a Bible lesson, too. I was undone (in the sweetest way) by my friends that day. Again, doing something “scared”.
July was equally busy. A big celebration of Grant finishing his apprenticeship (lots of friends, food, and great music) started the month. A trip with my friend, Gina, for another Speak Up Conference in Grand Rapids totally changed my focus. Then, an unexpected, emergent hysterectomy capped off the month. (Not the surprise I was looking for.)
August was another mixture of joy and sorrow. I was the proud mom as Grant was recognized at his graduation. But losing a friend to cancer stopped me in my tracks.
September through December were a whirlwind. Speaking engagements and working with my first publisher. Another ladies’ respite and the annual trip to Grundy. More writing. More time with friends and granddaughters. More loss. So many extremes.
Writing all of these things certainly serves as a reminder of the goodness of God. It’s good to remember. But I also need to acknowledge areas of my life that need attention and improvement.
I battled the enemy in a little anxiety over who I am, what I’m called to do, envy of others, etc. I fought the urge to find my identity in works. I temporarily surrendered some things to God only to grab them back again (because of course my plans are far better).
So here I am. It’s December 31 and tomorrow launches another year. I want to meet with Jesus every day as I study His Word. I also want to be in the gym at least 3 days each week. I hope to be the disciple that God’s equipped me to be. I also want to keep my dishes washed and not sitting in the sink. I pray to be a better wife. But I also need him to put his contacts in the trash can instead of letting them dry and become a semi-permanent grit on my bathroom countertop. (God, forgive me. I’m a work in progress.) I want to live with my hands open; ready to see and receive everything meant for me. The joy, the sorrow, the abundance, the loss, the mending, and the hurt. All of it.
Romans 12:2 ~ Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.