It is “that” time of year again. It is the time of year when many people take inventory of the previous year, prepare a plan, outline goals for the year ahead, and resolve to make this the year that they stop letting that thing that has been holding them back hold them back. How do you approach January? If you are like me, you take the first quarter off and cram a year’s worth of goals into nine months. Hence, I started this post in April – and then life happened and I am publishing it in JUNE! Type B…
My husband is big on reflecting on the past year, developing goals for the new year, and setting up tools to make the year more effective. We are proof that opposites really do attract. I appreciate that he appreciates those things. The word “goals” literally drains the life out of me. But I am resolving to make this the year that goal-setting drudgery no longer hampers me from setting some goals. Watch out, 2025. Here I come—with all the goals. Starting in June.
In all seriousness, “Hi!” It has been too long. Please forgive my absence. The last two years (- whoa! How did that happen? Direct consequence of no goals) have been packed. They have been full of endless To-Do lists, adjusting to new normals, mourning days gone by, and struggling to hold fast to the Lord through it all. I have felt tossed about, and life has had more questions than answers. “How was I supposed to point anyone in a direction when I was spun up and spun out, unsure of which way was up?” Writing about how clinging to the Lord made the uncertainty worth it when I was in the midst of white-knuckling the hem of God’s garment seemed forced and fake. I did not have the answer to our season of struggle. I did not have a grand hook at the end of my post to wow you and illuminate the glory of the Lord. I was ending all my prayers with, “I believe, help my unbelief!” How would displaying my chaos help anyone? And then it hit me: taking a step back to find my footing is not being a good steward of this platform or your trust in me. I am hiding. I am isolating. I am trying to control the narrative. Ugh! I have let fear retake the lead. So again, I ask you to please forgive my absence.
The last two years can be summed up in one word: sanctifying. I’ve said it before and will say it again: sanctification hurts. After all these trials and tribulations, I wish I could stand here before you and tell you that the season of waiting has sharpened my ability to hear the Holy Spirit’s direction and respond instantly. Unfortunately, I am still a work in progress. I am still Type B with flairs of A. This is still a place where you will not be overly burdened with rigid structure, but I have learned much about myself, the Lord, and the waiting, and I would love to tell you more about that.
My goal this year is simple but pervasive: I aim to surrender. Over the last two years, the Lord has graciously revealed the things I hold dearer and nearer to me than himself. He mercifully walked us through a sanctifying season, during which I learned just how little I surrendered to the Lord and how much I relied on myself and others. I am surrendering this website to the Lord and all of you who read it.
I pray, Lord, that as the Spirit leads, I will faithfully and courageously share the many layers of fear, frustration, anxiety, beauty, renewal, hope, and joy we have experienced. I will share the awe and wonder of your goodness and grace. I will share the continued unknowns and difficult surrenders that lie ahead.
To you, Dear Friend, I hope as I renew my commitment to reconnecting with you that you are encouraged, convicted, fortified, and enriched by the things I have learned and am learning. I hope that you want to reconnect and maybe even bring a friend. I hope that you can forgive me for my absence. I look forward to sharing more soon. Don’t worry, I’ve written several Blogs to be released, so you won’t have to wait two more years to learn more.