A day late

Photo by Aleksandr Ledogorov

A day late. 

Yep, for me, that about captures 2017 in a nutshell. Always having the best of intentions to do this and that… and before I know it, the moment has passed. I didn’t text back. Never made those plans. Never sent that card. Didn’t read that book. Couldn’t check that off.

2017 came on the heels of what felt like a dire ending to 2016. And though I carried hope into the year, hope alone could not erase all the pain or mistakes made the year prior. On many occasions I felt myself smacked across the face with another news story that knocked the wind out of me. I often asked myself, "What world am I living in where this is the new reality?” It has to get better. It must get better.

In many ways, I am still waiting with so many others for things to get better. The orange-like cast of 2017 was more reminiscent of a fiery inferno of hell vs. the soothing calm of a San Francisco sunset. And at some point, I just sort of gave in to the apathy my soul needed in order to survive the blows that just… kept… coming.

No, I’m not sad to see 2017 go. And no, though I sit in the very real emotions of how disastrous 2017 was, I am still very present to the joy that existed in between. Or, even amidst it all.

We welcomed our sweet Mikael into our family. I was fortunate to have six wonderful (and let’s be real… a little hectic!) months home with my boys. I was enraptured watching Soren step into being the most loving, protective, nurturing, and connected big brother. There were friendships that rekindled, and those that deepened. More marriages and babies to celebrate. Quality time with family. I was surrounded with so many blessings.

And even then, I ended 2017 holding my breath… waiting to exhale. An angst still loomed in my gut. So, as I sat in church yesterday morning after many weeks of choosing my bed over pews, I felt myself moved by the meditation shared:

Be still, and know that I am God. Be still, and know that I am. Be still, and know that. Be still, and know. Be still.

So as I enter 2018, I cling to those words: Be still. Something that doesn’t feel very realistic in a season of parenting young ones while juggling the Bay Area hustle. But I know that in my life, that’s often God’s logic. To make possible what feels impossible. To bring light into darkness. Stillness into chaos. Hope into hopelessness.

I pray these words resonate with you as well. Be still with the confidence that He is God. Be still with the peace that we are not in control. Be still with the understanding that He is good. 

Be still.