Survival.
That's my word for 2019. It wasn't a word given to me at the beginning of the year, but rather realized after its completion. For that in hindsight, I am grateful. I now see why truth and wisdom are sometimes delayed. Tragedy struck the year with vengeance. It grabbed the nape of my neck with a white-clenched fist and wouldn't let go. Tension headaches and shallow breaths were my friends. Organization and productivity became the cushions for existing. Crossing off the to-do list made me feel like a person accomplishing things instead of a wave-tossed ship. And that's what I was - a ship still floating, but battered and broken; still achieving the goal of staying on top of the water, but barely. After all, my plate was full - IS full of good things.
I used to write. I used to love to write. It used to make my soul come alive. Then the electric zing became an annoying buzz; a fly I couldn't swat away. Pressure. Pressure to fill pages, to get more views, to create interaction. Slowly the words were replaced with grocery lists and "I'm sorry's" in pages of my journal. I'm sorry for not thriving, for yelling, for not doing this or that, for not being enough.
I'm sorry for being me.
The end of 2019 was a gift slowly opening. It was pristine paper in perfect lines, a gentle nudging to keep peeling back the layers. I hear Him whisper, "Write what you want to read."
The end of 2019 was a gift slowly opening. It was pristine paper in perfect lines, a gentle nudging to keep peeling back the layers. I hear Him whisper, "Write what you want to read."
Intentional.
This was the word I felt was given to me for 2020.
I didn't know that this word would be the sticky tack that held my feet to the ground. While 2020 is not yet over, I feel as though a hundred lifetimes have passed. No one could have imagined the toll that this year would take. Yet, in hindsight, I felt slightly prepared - a gift I'm sure from someone who loves me. I have clung to this idea of being intentional through all of the upheaval. Body, mind, spirit - intentionally creating space to breathe, grow, and be.
There is a deep rooted confidence that good times are coming. I don't know about you, but I want my eyes open to see.
