An Ode to 2020

  I ushered in 2021 with a couple good friends, rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, staring up at the rain dancing in the light of a street lamp on a dark Tennessee road. We were kept dry under the shelter of an old front porch, our conversation full of rich and sweet (though sometimes awkward) memories of our childhood.

  In Tennessee it was already a new year. But back home, as midwest natives, 2021 was just about to strike. It only seemed proper to wait until what we deemed "the real new year"- at least it felt more real and believable to us.

Thinking back on 2020, I would've never imagined ending the year in such a quiet, unnoticed kind of way. Yet any other way would've lost the beauty in that sweet moment of closure (if true closure were even possible).

  It had been a hard year for all of us. Normalcy ripped away from us in an entanglement of anger, grievances, tears and a constant storm of thoughts and opinions that have made many of us feel dry and depleted. We're all yearning for normal to return and yet I think all of us know, deep down inside, that normal will now be a tyrant of fight for control, faces covered by cloth, a confused cry for justice, never knowing if our favorite café will ever open again (and if it does open, will it just close again in a couple weeks?). And on top of our world changing, we all have our own share of personal struggles and hardships.

  Last week I went to church. In person, no masks and no social distancing. My eyes filled with tears. This is what the church should look like. It had been a long time since my heart had danced for joy like that. I felt rejuvenated and all I could do was respond in awe before God (truly some of the most beautiful worship I had experienced in a long time, alongside 500+ brothers and sisters in Christ). Maybe the church isn't under persecution quite yet, but I can't help but think that it's wrong to have churches closed and people rejected from hearing the gospel because they aren't wearing a mask upon entrance to the building (where exactly is the love in that?).

  I can at least say I am grateful for 2020. In all its hardships, I have experienced the gift of close friendships growing deeper... and realized how I need friends who know me in & out to point me to truth in Jesus! I have slowly learned (and continue to learn) how desperately I need Jesus. I have been coveting the sweet power of reflecting on the faithfulness of God and the art and importance of lamenting as the prophet Jeremiah lamented (and what comfort I have found in all the prophets!). This has been a year of learning and relearning the art of gratitude- finding joy in the trivial. It has been a year of failure and a year of growth- spiritually, mentally, even physically as I've realized what makes my body feel good and what doesn't. Above all else, I have grown so much deeper in love with Jesus and for that I wouldn't trade the world.

  I have grown in boldness and confidence. For seeking the truth and yearning for the truth to be made known to not only the world, but to my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. That silly little question, "what would Jesus do?" has, to my great surprise, become the theme of my 2020. The anthem of 2020, if you will. I have grieved what is so far from the Jesus way and have longed for the beauty and perfection of heaven like never before!