I have always loved the start of a brand-new year. I relish swapping out the wrinkled, scribbled planner for a brand-new one chock-full of white pages and empty squares. I love to make resolutions, to list out goals, to dream and plan. I love that the dawning of a new year offers the perfect opportunity to reflect on what has passed and plan for what is to come.
I spent some time over the holidays thinking back on 2019. It was a year of big change and transition for me – both professionally and personally – as I stepped out of the publishing arena, put book-writing on the back-back-back burner, turned my attention to my work at The Salvation Army and began to figure out who I am and who I want to be.
The year was not without sorrow. Case in point: I bawled my eyes out at the end of the new Little Women film, as Jo stood behind the plate-glass window and watched her novel being typeset, printed and bound. The joy and satisfaction on her face as she held her first book in her hands pricked a tender spot in me, and as I left the theater all glassy-eyed, still dabbing at my nose with a Kleenex, I couldn’t help but panic a little bit: “Why on earth did I quit? What have I done?!”
Still, when I look back at all of 2019, I feel solidly good. On one hand, not much happened – at least outwardly. But the transformation that has taken place within made it one of the most exhilarating years of my life. I’ve stripped a lot away; I’ve been pruned back to what feels like my pith. This past year marked the beginning of a journey toward reclaiming myself – a journey that will continue for as long as I am alive.
At the same time I am sensing a restlessness, a low-level agitation humming beneath the surface of these early January days. I feel like there is a “next thing” on the horizon – the problem is, I don’t yet know what that “next thing” is. I’m confident that writing will continue to be an important part of my personal story and my vocation, but I am still uncertain as to what shape it will take. A new creative project? A more substantial commitment to non-profit work? Blog writing? Something else altogether? The role writing will play in my life going forward is still a shifting mirage in the far-off distance.
In the quiet early morning of New Year’s Eve, tucked into the corner of my brother- and sister-in-law’s sofa in Minnesota, eight inches of freshly fallen snow blanketing the back yard, I read the story in Genesis of Abram’s calling, specifically these words:
“The Lord said to Abram: ‘Go forth from your land, from your relatives and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.’” (12:1)
The distance between Haran – Abram and his wife Sarai’s current town of residence – to the new land God had for them in Canaan was about 400 miles. Abram didn’t know which land, exactly, God had for him. He didn’t know where it was, what it looked like or how long it would take to travel there. He couldn’t see Canaan from where he stood in Haran. And yet, with his wife, his nephew Lot, and his livestock and people, he set out for that unseen land. Abram simply trusted God at his word. He trusted God would tell him when he had arrived at the place God had for him.
Turns out, like Abram, I’m en route to the place God has for me. This place has not yet been revealed. I can’t yet see it from where I stand, and I don’t really have any idea what it will look like. It is, at this point, a matter of trust – trust that God will indeed show me not only the land I am traveling to, but also the way to get there.
My word/phrase which was given to me for 2019 and now for 2020 is “Be Still” which is not easy to do. I am thankful for your journey, Michelle and how it has brought so many of us together ❤️❤️
I think “be still” probably needs to be a lifetime mantra for me. It’s a bit of a struggle sometimes for sure. So glad to be walking alongside you on the journey, Michael.
No, we can’t always see where God is leading us, Michelle, but trusting in Him is the major first step. Follow Him faithfully, and He will not fail to show you the way.
Blessings for a wonderful new year!
New Year blessings to you too, Martha.
I made myself an egg this morning. It doesn’t sound like much. But I’ve also given myself permission to “be still.” In frying that egg today, I saw the quietness of the simple act of cooking something I didn’t need to, I could have grabbed a quick breakfast bar and been about my day. But the deliberate act of stopping long enough to cook and then eat that egg gave me permission to sit for a few minutes, taking the time to thank God I have sufficient food and for all the other many blessings He has given me that I take for granted. I saw cars going by and new I wasn’t in one heading to who knows where to do who knows what. I was here now and I was thankful for these few minutes, I could be still and enjoy my egg.
In cooking that egg, I could feel the contentment in my soul that comes from resting in HIm, from ‘being still” in Him. For a few minutes, I was not rushed, I could focus and relax by spending time cooking and eating my egg.
Your post was very timely, I hope you too, get to enjoy an egg sometime.
This is so lovely, Margaret. Thank you for inviting me into your breakfast experience this morning. 🙂
For the past week, I have been pondering Psalm 114 where God appears and everything is turned inside out. The seas and the Jordan river reverse their flow, the mountains and hills skip like rams and lambs, and rocks and flint are turned into water. In the end, there is no neat, tidy bow to wrap up the psalm, just the knowledge that God set all of this in motion. Thanks for your thoughts. They assure me that it’s okay for me to be in the midst of this psalm.
So much resonates here! Perhaps it’s a stage of life? I feel the same way, that I have been culling away at myself, finding my “pith” as you say, my true self inside. Discovering myself. For me, this has been especially true since my last child left the home. There’s a freedom for some women that comes when the everyday urgencies of motherhood are over. It takes years sometimes to discover who you are after that page has been turned, and “mothering from afar” is the new role. I don’t have a clue where I’m going either, or if I’m even going the right way. There are few sign posts. “Looking for peace” is one. “Time with hubby” is another. “Creativity” is also likely.
Michelle, thank you for being so open in your journey. I too feel God calling me to be still, to listen, to follow. I love the vision of Abram — and so many of us — taking a single step forward at a time, following in faith, to “a land that I will show you.” I can’t wait to see what 2020 will bring to you, to me, to each of us!
I love your writing, your thoughts. Thank you for sharing them. I am a new year/one word person. My word for 2020 is Devote. I usually have some idea of what my word going forward will look like, where it most likely will take me. Sure, there is always a twist revealed, some deeper meaning that impacts long term, but still, I have a beginning. This year I don’t. I am holding my word rather loosely, waiting for God to lead how and where he wants. Kind of like you and Abram, to a place not yet revealed.
For about two years, I’ve felt God whisper that 2020 was going to be a year of change for me too. I think it will come in the form of a new job, but I’m still not sure. I’m with you in the waiting, in the trusting. Best wishes to you as you continue to anticipate, prepare for and explore what God has planned for you.
I started last year with this same feeling. My one word for 2019 was wait and it was a year of learning to be still. In its 11th month, the new thing became clear and is sending me into 2020 with new joy. I’m so grateful for the wait of 2019, though, and for the peace I had in the unknowing. He really is enough and seasons of waiting for and stillness and walking to destinations unknown are a sweet way to prove that to be our own hearts.
Michelle, I always appreciate your insights and how you share your experiences with such lovely writing. After struggling with empty nest and the death of my last parent these last five years, I’m learning to incorporate the loss (and newness) of what my days look like. “Rest” is the word The Holy Spirit brings to me in 2020. Daily, I’m unpacking what that looks like and perhaps seeing a different perspective each day.
Hi Michelle!
Happy New Year! I love how you obey God’s leading. And I love this passage from Genesis, which God used powerfully in my life, when He “told” me to leave the USO, which job I LOVED, and to “go without knowing.” (Do read the correlative passage to God’s call to Abraham in Hebrews). I had just had Sheridan, at forty, and sensed God telling me to come home to raise her and to leave a rewarding, fascinating career. Wow, was that hard. That said, I also knew that God was leading me to other “land,” but just didn’t know where. Just like we know from Heb. 11, Abraham went without knowing where he would land. So I told friends, “I’m leaping [as in leap of faith]. I’m going without knowing.” That leap landed me in a part-time job as director of Christian education (a far cry from USO executive director), and ultimately a leap home, full-time. But it was there that God called me to write. You are simply in the “not knowing” stage, but He will show you. Personally, I hope one day it involves another book for you, yet all forms of writing are invaluable, and I love your blog (one of my few original bloggers left)! I’m not ck’ing in as much here, b/c I am caring for Mother full-time, post-op. My brother will give me brief interludes to come home, but I need to head back tomorrow. She has no Internet. Just know I think of you often, and will pray for your land, and drop back in whenever I can!
Much love, Happy 2020, and Happy Leaping!
xo
Lynn
PS Where oh where is your Christmas letter?! I always love reading it. Mine is still in my head. Given all that Mother endured, I could never find time to write it. I’m sending it out sometime in the NY.