Bridging the Decades

Dear Twenty Nineteen (2019), 

I am ready to cross that bridge, the one that takes me into the new year.  

You’ve been more than I could handle and still more than I could hope for.

You attempted to give me heartache; but I found patience and grace.

You made me stumble and proved I could stand up stronger.

You excavated my heart and filled it with unimaginable joy and peace.

You revealed grief in ways I could never predict and proved the Light of the World is the only path home.

You opened piercing wounds and offered healing and love in places that have been scarred over for far too long.

You showed me darkness could not win, and you shed light on truth and beauty and goodness.

You rescued me from deep waters, literally and figuratively, and reminded me not to fear but to respect those deep, dark, turbulent waters.

You caused me discomfort and allowed me to find strength by walking in a bold and courageous faith.  

You reminded me fear has no place in taking risks, but in doing so, peace, clarity, and payoffs abound.

You convinced me that I had to let go to hold on, and when I invite truthseekers to walk alongside me on this journey, I am never alone.

Dear 2019 and the last decade, You showed frustration, pain, grief, and loss. Yet, you delivered more grace, inspired beauty, new beginnings, infinite peace, and more surprising redemption and reconciliation than I thought could ever be possible.  

And to the last decade, you have tested me, challenged me, and made me stronger. In this last decade, I have lived my best memories growing my family and raising little people.  But there was some hard stuff.

You have scared me out of my wits with the unexpected and made me laugh all the more. You dared me to take steps where I felt the footing wasn’t sure. I am grateful for the lessons, but I am dog-tired. I am ready to turn the page. It has been real.

I am ready to take the pen to the next chapter of our story.   

I am ready to cross the bridge from 2019. The new year is in sight.

The vision is clear.  After all, it is 2020 —20/20, perfect vision.

It is clear that I am not in charge of this journey of life as a daughter, a wife, a mom, a sister, a friend, a neighbor, a writer, a teacher, and a student (more to come on this new title).   

I welcome 2020 with the words of the year (seems one is not enough for me) that have been consistently showing up for me: Gentle, Mother, and Gather.  I have a strong feeling I know how these will cultivate in the coming year. 

*****

As you cross the bridge into the new year and the new decade know I am thinking of you and the struggles you have been through too.

These words are for you, my dear friend, who I am blessed to meet in this space. I know we all walk hard days. I hope you find peace in knowing you are not alone.  

I encourage you to reflect on the moments of the last year and decade. Look for where truth, beauty, and goodness has been part of your journey.   And certainly look for the small miracles.

And as always, may you find love and laughter in all your days.  

Let’s hold hands as we cross the bridge into the New Year.  

*****

If you wish to find a word of the year, go to this link here or here.

And let me know the “word” of the year you are given if you click on one of the word generators.

Also, if you know me or have followed me long enough, you know my love of the saints. Not to worship them, but for the fine examples they set for how to walk through life with eyes fixed toward the light of the world.

I do not choose a saint of the year from a generator, but for fun you can do so here. Rather than choose, I prefer to listen and pay attention. The saint who has been consistently showing up in the best, unexpected places the last month or two is St. Joseph.

It is no surprise since I was born on the Feast of St. Joseph. Perhaps he wants — as a good father would — for me to rest in his gentleness as I celebrate five decades of life.   It is no surprise the one man God chose to represent “fatherhood” to the world was Joseph. He is a white lily, a man of profound holiness. He embodied masculinity and virtue and a mature interior life. He loved God. He seems like the saint for me.

Let me know if you choose a saint to learn about more.

*****

I look forward to where this writing space will take us together in the coming year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for inviting me in and following along. As always I am praying for you.

You can find me hanging out on Instagram and on Facebook. I would love to connect with you there.