Okay, so wretched is a strong word, but I like alliteration, and worthwhile was a most fitting word to juxtapose my feelings for the past year.
I came across a meme on Facebook that said something like “This New Year's Eve, I can’t wait to sit back and watch 2016 die”. That's pretty dark, but it just about captures the way I feel about the past year. I'm grateful for every wonderful moment that I experienced this past year, but this was a difficult year. If I had to sum up the worst of my year in a single word, the first word to come to my mind woud be loss. We often think of loss as death, particularly the death of a person, but loss can be applied to so many aspects of life. Incidentally, I did experience the loss of a loved one this year. I also experienced a sort of loss of hope and maybe even a little loss of self. A meaningful relationship I have underwent tremendous strain, and I lost some level of the meaning that it had had to me for so long. In fact, many of my relationships were changed by the harsh light of reality and maturity - that unpleasant view of childhood friends and heroes appearing to you as they really are. The passion I had for my job died. I am ashamed to admit that my even pursuit of God died. I did not stop believing in Him or allowing my history with Him to inform (the majority of) my decisions, but I stopped actively seeking after Him.
I feel what I experienced in 2016 was the 20-something’s equivalent of a midlife crisis, which is apparently referred to as a quarter life crisis. By the end of the year, as I was questioning whether or not I would have even one moment of clarity in 2016, I started to remember and to realize a few things.
For every true loss there is something to be gained, and some things never truly die.
When I lost my grandfather this past summer, I gained some insight into how it feels to lose someone, which may sound trivial or cheesy, but is really quite important. Losing someone close to you is a sort of dark rite of passage. You cannot remain as you were before that loss, and if you change in the right way, you may find that you live life with more intent and learn to love better. You also become better equipped to understand and maybe even comfort others when they lose loved ones.
As the year progressed and I found myself exactly where I left off, with what seemed like no hope of moving forward, I grew frustrated and tired. I kept asking myself all these questions that had no answers yet. When and how am I ever going to finish paying off my last semester? If I can’t do that, then when and how am I ever going to finish school? If can’t do that, then when and how will I ever start a proper career? If I can’t do that, then when and how am I going to advance in this life? When and how am I going to meet someone and fall in love? Blah blah blah. All those unanswered questions made me feel like a generally inadequate human being. And if asking myself those questions wasn’t enough, there was everyone else - everyone else either asking me those same questions, or answering them in their own lives. Did everyone and their mother on Facebook graduate, and get engaged, and get married, and have kids, and buy a house? I still didn’t even have a car. What was I doing with my life?! I worked 2 jobs, took classes at a community college, and tried to get work started with my nonprofit again. How was this not enough? I started losing hope - in myself and in my future. The only thing I seemed to be able to control and to be content with was my television. And so every spare moment I had after a full work day was spent falling asleep in front of ABC or Netflix. What was I supposed to take away from that (apart from lots of good laughs and near-cries)? To be honest, the answer to that still eluded me. My initial thought was that I have to appreciate the fact that this is simply not my time and resolve myself to remain hopeful, since without hope, nothing can be accomplished. It occurred to me that there was a certain source I had not looked to for my answer. I searched the Bible to see what I might find to speak to my hopeless situation, I came across these 2 verses:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
Romans 12:12
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Jerimiah 29:11
If I am to restore my hope in myself and in my future, I need to lean on God and remember that He has loving plans for me.
When my close friend and I were going through a difficult shift in our relationship, I really struggled with my understanding of who they were versus who I thought they had been for so long. I had considered us kindred spirits, with identical souls and minds, and been brought to a place where I realized that we did not necessarily share all of the same priorities or ideals. Dramatic as this may sound, this new realization felt like an identity crisis. If I didn’t know who they were all this time, had I really even known myself? I was sad and angry. I felt a bit lost and very much alone. I am the sort of person who never minded that I did not have many friends, because I only needed a few very close ones. While that remains true, I came to realize that perhaps I could afford to grow my circle just a little more. I also came to realize that I needed to be more okay with doing things alone. I have always loved alone time - I usually spend it in my room surrounded by everything I need to enjoy it - my television, my journals and pens, my coloring books and art supplies, my guitars and my ukulele, my bed and my endless supply of blankets. Alone time and doing things alone are not the same. I tried to take a friend to every event/place I attended away from home - concerts, the movies, church, shopping, etc. So as I went through my rough patch with my friend, I felt less inclined to do any of those outside things. One day I finally decided to go it alone. I bought myself a movie ticket, headed to the theater alone, and came out feeling triumphant for having enjoyed the movie and the theater all by myself. Perhaps that sounds ridiculous, but to me it was brilliant - I felt as though I had liberated myself. Now I go to the theater anytime I please, since I am no longer concerned with anyone else’s availability or interest in going with me. I had lost some part of a friendship that had been so very special to me, but I had gained a sort of liberation, in addition to an understanding of the fact that I needed to lean on others a little less and maybe also grow my circle of friends. Although it hurt to lose that part of my friendship, our relationship had not died, it had simply shed its old skin, as did many of my relationships.
When I returned to my job for the fourth year and my employer threw me a curveball that nearly knocked me out of the game, my passion for the job slowly died. I thought that I might sustain it with enough determination, but time, some cantankerous children, and some incorrigible parents wore me down. It was difficult to see what I might gain from my newfound lack of passion, but it was revealed to me in time. I realized that perhaps I had been overly devoted to my job and to an employer that was not quite so devoted to me. When I gained that perspective, I found that it was easier to leave my work at work and find time to do things for myself or for others. I gave my school work more of the priority that I should have been giving it. I gave my family more of my time. I gave myself more of my time. And I was even able to give more time to my new (second) job, which was already proving to have a healthier company culture. My lost passion was giving me a bit of my life back. And what was even more amazing was that in getting that life back I found that my passion for my job was being restored in some way. The joy that came from all of these other things that I was doing had a way of spilling over into the job that had seemed to take it away. Now my passion is restored, but I am in control, giving my best from the moment that I clock in, and letting my work day end the moment I clock out.
At points throughout the year, my pursuit of God lessened - I stopped going to church, and eventually I quit reading my devotionals or my Bible. I am not sure when it occurred to me that my pursuit of Him had “died”. Perhaps it was when I stopped writing down memory verses in my bathroom. The blank surface where I used to write them was a constant reminder to me that I had given up. When Christmas came upon us just a week ago, I found myself in church with my family, because that is our way. During the holidays, when we all get together under one roof, we attend church together, just as we did growing up under that roof. Sitting in service among so many believers, falling into the routine that I knew so well, I felt myself settle in. I watched and I listened as seasoned Christians offered praise to God and children spoke of the things they had learned about Him. I was reminded of my belonging among fellow believers and my need to seek after God. I realized that my pursuit of God was not dead, only resting by my own choice and that I could wake it any time that I pleased.
Perhaps a better word to sum up 2016 (or at least a more optimistic one) would be growth. Growth is a pretty good way to wrap up a year. I look back on these experiences and the things that I learned, and while I am glad to leave the pain of 2016 behind, I am grateful for the chance to carry the things I learned with me into the new year. As I look ahead and impatiently await the new year, I anticipate newfound fulfillment and contentment with my life, and a renewed drive to get to wherever it is that God is taking me.
