the crossroads of two years

We rang in the New Year in the Midwest, worshipping our Creator and Savior with over 10,000 other believers at a student conference called Urbana. Together we uncovered what it means to be a faithful witness in a world of brokenness and injustice, pain and sorrow- and how to live in light of Christ's triumph. It was convicting and encouraging and inspiring, and I was both overwhelmed by God's presence and deeply grateful to be there with my little family and the boy. 

Being at the crossroads of two years is an invitation to look back in gratefulness to the year that finally rises to its crescendo, whilst reflecting on humble aspirations for the one that dawns. These first days of January have been slow and introspective- filled with walks in gentle breezes, meeting dear friends for the last sips of juniper lattes and eggnog of the season, reading by the smell of fir-scented candles and the sound of Beirut, Louis Armstrong or Fleet Foxes (on repeat). 

I have been taking time to, slowly, jot down rhythms I hope to embrace in 2019: meet with God daily (prayer, contemplation, His Word), savour His rest (Sabbath, slowing down), show respect and mercy toward my body (accept what I cannot change, commit myself fiercely to what I can), be bold (as a witness, as a graduate, as a woman), make space for what I love most (people, words, new places, gatherings around the table). 2019 will be a year of great change (a finished undergraduate degree and a move come to mind)- and I believe these new rhythms will help me through the whirlwind of shifts and novelty coming my way. 

And, of course, I must acknowledge the beauty that was 2018, her shadow still distinct and felt as this new year begins. I know I am not the only one who will struggle to correctly pen "2019" for weeks!  

Globally, 2018 was certainly dissapointing at times- one of much tragedy, division and strife- yet, in humility, I am filled with gratitude as I look back to the sweetness and hopefulness that she was on a personal note. She was not easy at all times- I made mistakes, walked through difficult seasons of conflict and misunderstanding with those I love, watched my mother suffer illness, missed the boy and my sister tremendously, experienced near-burnout from trying to juggle school and ministry and work, navigated episodes of self-doubt and self-rejection. 

But, as a whole, 2018 was a gathering of blessings. 

This was a year doors opened: an editorial internship with Dressember, a job as camp director for an organization I love, an internship with the United Nations this Summer. This was the year I felt great anticipation about my field of study- a certain peace that this is where I was meant to be. This was the year I blew 22 candles in Kingston, by Lake Ontario, acknowledging early adulthood forcefully for the first time. 

This was the year of falling in love with the sacred art of writing in a new way. This was the year I read most books- new authors challenging me and my way of thinking (Henri Nouwen, Tish Harrison Warren, Anne Lamott, Madeleine L'Engle, Shauna Niequist, Rachel Held Evans, among many). This was the year of going places (Vancouver again and again to see the boy and my West Coast people, Paris, Brussels, Ghent, Etretat, Mont St. Michel, Le Havre, Quimper, Rennes with Laurianne, Zoe and Heloise in the Spring, New Hampshire with Phoebe, Quebec City with Kaylyn, Sherbrooke and Toronto with my mama, Bromont with Elise, Ottawa and St. Louis with my little clan). This was the year of exploring Montréal and thinking, how lucky am I to have begun here. This was the year I accepted that being a homebody doesn't negate wanderlust- and I spent hours delighting in the art of 'staying in'. This was the year of countless coffee shops where words were written, new friendships bloomed and where I came to understand vernacular such as cortado, frothed milk, Spanish latte and third wave.

This was the year I witnessed prayers being answered- God providing five new leaders overnight to a struggling youth ministry. This was the year I came to see God's face through every single youth with whom I spend Friday nights, squeezed into our little church basement, doing life together. This was the year I better grasped spiritual formation, liturgy and biblical hospitality (there's always, always more room at the table). This was the year of learning, slowly, to say no at times. This was also the year of learning, slowly, to say yes and accept certain gifts, opportunities and changes in humility. 

This was the year of building community with women (of strength, wisdom and kindness), digging deeply into Scripture with them on Monday nights, piling into Emma's living room right by campus. This was the year of studying the letters of Paul, Hebrews and Genesis. This was the year of discovering God's intent for the Sabbath (its sacredness, its importance). 

This was the year of deepening relationships with the people that make my life so rich- giving thanks for how they shape me, challenge me, allow me to simply be. This was the year of falling deeper in love with Paul- understanding each other better, dreaming and making plans together, celebrating two years of "us" in the oldest city in the country, flying thousands of miles to spend just a few days hand in hand. This was the year of uncovering the holy in the everyday- celebrating the mundane, finding God's hand in the thick of it, delighting in small joys and simplicity. 

It was a good year, a blessed year, and I am filled with hope as I step into 2019- knowing she'll be meaningful, formative and rich in what matters most. 

To you who reads: may your year be filled with relationships enriched, dreams fulfilled, prayers answered and paths brightened by His everlasting joy and care.