In the great tradition of retrospection upon the turning of
a new year, I have found myself pondering 2013.
Truth be told, it was the spurring on of dozens of Instagram and Facebook
apps enabling me to see all of my posts throughout the year. As I scrolled through this past year as I had
documented via social networking, I came to one conclusion. This year was….well- 2013.
This year was hard. It was a year of slow and continual transition, hard work, and the general challenges of life. You know that feeling you get right when you trip, and you try to catch yourself-but you can’t- that moment where you trip on your trip- that kind of sums up this year; Feeling ever out of control with no feet on the ground. This was a hard year.
But this was a year I will never forget. Not because it was hard, because it was important.
This year was hard. It was a year of slow and continual transition, hard work, and the general challenges of life. You know that feeling you get right when you trip, and you try to catch yourself-but you can’t- that moment where you trip on your trip- that kind of sums up this year; Feeling ever out of control with no feet on the ground. This was a hard year.
But this was a year I will never forget. Not because it was hard, because it was important.
This year I began to take up running, or I guess I should
say I began to take up “wogging”
(walk-jog-walk-jog-walk) I NOW run. And
I think if I had to define 2013, I would dub it “The Year of the Run”.
(Please bear with me as I continue to speak of my life using extravagant analogies- this is just how I role.)
As I began this year, I saw myself at the beginning of a track. I stood there-carrying a pile, a mound, of baggage. Things like school, work, hopes, disappointments, things we all carry- I stood there carrying them all, with every intention of making it across the 2013 finish line- all items intact. As the proverbial gun shot, I began my year long journey, one step at a time, eyes on the mound of life in my arms.
(Please bear with me as I continue to speak of my life using extravagant analogies- this is just how I role.)
As I began this year, I saw myself at the beginning of a track. I stood there-carrying a pile, a mound, of baggage. Things like school, work, hopes, disappointments, things we all carry- I stood there carrying them all, with every intention of making it across the 2013 finish line- all items intact. As the proverbial gun shot, I began my year long journey, one step at a time, eyes on the mound of life in my arms.
To start the year off, my house went through (and continued
to go through) major transition. It was hard to say goodbye to friends who have
become more like family. It was harder
still to adjust to a new house family. My school and work load were overwhelming, and
they regularly spilled out into my life.
I had anxiety dreams about unfinished papers and camp catastrophe’s,
worse, I had millions of mornings of waking up 7 minutes before my alarm went
off- which is BY FAR- the worst possible torture there is. I had weeks where I had to apologize to
friends for being so incredibly terrible, “I promise, I’m not ACTUALLY like
this, I am just having a rough season”.
SEASON- I clung to that word- SEASON this is just a season, things will
settle.
But they didn’t, it seemed like they just kept escalating and with every inch down the track, my “pile o’ problems” got higher and higher. Until finally- I could no longer see where the pile ended, and I could bear the weight of it no more. With the faintest trip…and then, of course, the valiant attempt to recover, and then the inevitable trip on the trip- all In slow motion- my pile came crashing down around me- every frustration, every fear, every failure, every hope all slowly made their way to the ground. Where I lay; exhausted, annoyed, and disappointed.
You know how when you run a race (though to be clear- I have not run one- so when I say this what I really mean is, “You know how in the movies when people run races….”) someone reaches out and hands the runner water and they shot gun it back and keep going? That didn’t happen in my paralleled-proverbial run, something much better happened.
But they didn’t, it seemed like they just kept escalating and with every inch down the track, my “pile o’ problems” got higher and higher. Until finally- I could no longer see where the pile ended, and I could bear the weight of it no more. With the faintest trip…and then, of course, the valiant attempt to recover, and then the inevitable trip on the trip- all In slow motion- my pile came crashing down around me- every frustration, every fear, every failure, every hope all slowly made their way to the ground. Where I lay; exhausted, annoyed, and disappointed.
You know how when you run a race (though to be clear- I have not run one- so when I say this what I really mean is, “You know how in the movies when people run races….”) someone reaches out and hands the runner water and they shot gun it back and keep going? That didn’t happen in my paralleled-proverbial run, something much better happened.
As I sat there, completely crushed, utterly defeated, embarrassingly
incompetent; 2 hands reached out, and they didn’t help me up- they picked me
up. These arms carried me past the
cluttered ground of my destroyed mound and off the track, to anywhere else. No expectations, no condemnation, no
correction, no advice, just being. And I would sit there quietly for a while
enjoying being far away from the track, but it wouldn’t be long before I would
find myself back there picking up my messy abandoned pile and continuing
on. And as I am sure you can imagine, it
would only be a short while longer before the slo-mo trip-trip-crash and I
would find myself in the arms of this insane grace taking me away from my 2nd,
3rd, 4th, 5th….. attempt at getting myself and
my mound through 2013.
We have all been here, I know because so many of you have
sat on the track with me and shared your stories of being there. So many of you are there now, I think of
friends who in the last months have suffered great loss, incredibly trial, and
heartbreak, and I know I KNOW, that there is little anyone can say to ease the
grief, disappointment, fear, and hopelessness of laying on the ground only
inches down your track surrounded by your mound.
But this is grace. That these hands, time after time after time, reach out, and they don’t ask for you to be able to pull it together just enough, or to use as much of your own strength as you can, these arms say in your total and complete weakness, I will extend to you my total and complete strength. I will not only bring you comfort in the things that surround you on this ground, I will carry you AND them off this track and into a place where we can just be, the way we were meant to. Forget a water cup, I will pour out my love, hope, grace, comfort, peace, joy, and strength like a waterfall over you. And when you forget all of this, when you forget these moments and find yourself busily trying to get down the track, with all of your stuff. When you trip-trip-crash again, and feel like there is nothing left, like there is no way you can go on, I will be there. I will meet you EXACTLY there with 2 arms ready for holding.
This year, I spent a lot of time in those arms. I spent A LOT of time in those arms. And I think that is what made this year so difficult for a control-freak-perfectionist like me, I spent the majority of my year failing, failing hard. Failing to meet my own expectations for myself, failing to be able to pull it together, failing to be able to get myself and my mound through 2013.
I didn’t get through 2013, the gentle, patient, kind, gracious, loving, and merciful arms of my savior did.
I made one of those flipagrams that made a collage out of your Instagram year, and as I was prompted to come up with a title I found myself thinking, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Hence my title: 2013 was a year. Which is a true and valid statement.
But I want to acknowledge the goodness of God in this year, I want to call out the grace extended to me in a year where I deserved to be counted out as of like, January 2nd, I can sit here, December 30th and say- this has been a year.
God has been so good, He has been faithful to answer prayers for the desires in my heart that I have hoped and waited for for years. He provided for my every need, He drew me closer to His heart in ways I have never experienced.
On sleepless nights He kept me company, on early morning runs He showed me His glory, On stressful school days He shared His peace that surpassed ALL understanding, In moments of crisis He extended his safety and protection, in moments of hopelessness He gave me hope . Tomorrow night I will celebrate not only the beginning of a new year, but the arms that carried me through the last. Here is to 2014, may I spend more time in Your arms.
But this is grace. That these hands, time after time after time, reach out, and they don’t ask for you to be able to pull it together just enough, or to use as much of your own strength as you can, these arms say in your total and complete weakness, I will extend to you my total and complete strength. I will not only bring you comfort in the things that surround you on this ground, I will carry you AND them off this track and into a place where we can just be, the way we were meant to. Forget a water cup, I will pour out my love, hope, grace, comfort, peace, joy, and strength like a waterfall over you. And when you forget all of this, when you forget these moments and find yourself busily trying to get down the track, with all of your stuff. When you trip-trip-crash again, and feel like there is nothing left, like there is no way you can go on, I will be there. I will meet you EXACTLY there with 2 arms ready for holding.
This year, I spent a lot of time in those arms. I spent A LOT of time in those arms. And I think that is what made this year so difficult for a control-freak-perfectionist like me, I spent the majority of my year failing, failing hard. Failing to meet my own expectations for myself, failing to be able to pull it together, failing to be able to get myself and my mound through 2013.
I didn’t get through 2013, the gentle, patient, kind, gracious, loving, and merciful arms of my savior did.
I made one of those flipagrams that made a collage out of your Instagram year, and as I was prompted to come up with a title I found myself thinking, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Hence my title: 2013 was a year. Which is a true and valid statement.
But I want to acknowledge the goodness of God in this year, I want to call out the grace extended to me in a year where I deserved to be counted out as of like, January 2nd, I can sit here, December 30th and say- this has been a year.
God has been so good, He has been faithful to answer prayers for the desires in my heart that I have hoped and waited for for years. He provided for my every need, He drew me closer to His heart in ways I have never experienced.
On sleepless nights He kept me company, on early morning runs He showed me His glory, On stressful school days He shared His peace that surpassed ALL understanding, In moments of crisis He extended his safety and protection, in moments of hopelessness He gave me hope . Tomorrow night I will celebrate not only the beginning of a new year, but the arms that carried me through the last. Here is to 2014, may I spend more time in Your arms.
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