2024ward and Beyond
Throughout most of my life, I have excelled at one thing in particular: staying stuck in the past. The flies on my walls have heard their share of my hubby saying, “I thought you moved on from that.”
Call it my personality, call it my experiences, call it whatever you want, I lurk around the things that I’ve lived through. While I do believe there’s value in reminiscing and learning from the past, my thoughts here will encapsulate a season of growing away from being stuck.
Prior to ringing in 2024, I attended a comedy event. For the majority of the event, the entertainer laughed at his own jokes regarding Heaven and how people got there. He role played this scene in Heaven where everyone was sharing how they passed from Earth on to Heaven.
I really didn’t like his style of making a joke out of eternity, but at that moment I had been throwing a pity party for myself post-cancer treatment. So, regardless of the comedian’s delivery, I needed to hear exactly how self-focused I was wallowing in my cancer journey. My realization that night: when I get to Heaven, I am pretty sure no one will care what got me there, so why do I care about my suffering now?
More than any physical side effect of chemotherapy and my stem cell transplant between 2022-2023, nothing compared to the emotional slaughter I was experiencing post-treatment. I was coming off of the trauma of cancer care: aggressive and in some cases negligent healthcare professionals, loved ones disappointed in my decisions, silence from people I never expected to block me out, and my corpse flashing through my mind. Harder than any of that, my heart was broken into pieces that I was free from cancer, and so many people suffer from an array of health challenges that just won’t go away.
At the turn of 2024, God was convincing me to move forward from what had happened to me. I had to commit to doing the hard thing, and stop avenging my version of what happened to me. As if he was speaking directly in my ear, God pressed into me, “Do you not trust me to heal those people at just the right moment too?” And while my heavy heart still breaks for the suffering, I’ve moved forward in allowing God to do the heavy lifting part: the part he is sovereign over.
We can more than likely agree, the turn of the calendar year doesn’t mean 2024 is over.
2024 is like, “Hi 2025. I’m still here. I still don’t have a job. I still have that pain. I still haven’t come to terms with XYZ. That ailment is still lingering. And my loved one is still gone.”
For me, the new year reminds me of the weight I still try to carry with my own strength.
It’s the weight of things out of my control. Weight I need to release to God, that he alone can take care of. There’s no burning the midnight oil solely to wrap my life up perfectly before falling off to sleep.
This year, I’m continuing the work of moving forward, and making room for God to carry the load.
What is the turn of the year casting on you?
Let’s adjust the sails, and ride into the next calendar year ready for calm and choppy weather.
Because here’s the reality, we can’t stay put in the middle of deep water for too long. Yes, there is a season for rest and lament, but if you are anything like me, we can embrace a long season of lament and grieving while moving towards what God has in store for our lives.
The unfinished work he is still doing with the breath in our lungs is on the horizon.
There’s a sea of everyday gold within reach. Let’s find it together!
