1 Year

It's amazing what can happen within the span of a year.

I remember where and how I started 2011. I was in Russellville, surrounded by friends. I was also hurt, confused, bitter, and emotionally exhausted. I've been trying to type a sentence describing the feeling of heartbreak, but I keep deleting it, because I'm not sure it can be described in words. I wanted nothing more than to escape my life and my self. Being isolated in small-town Arkansas for a month only made things worse. I didn't even want to talk to anyone from school, because talking to them meant talking about the issues. I hated being back home, but I also dreaded going back to Tech. That Winter Break was miserable. That Christmas was miserable. Even that New Years was miserable, because my mind was everywhere but the fireworks.

One year later, I almost started 2012 alone, and I was pretty indifferent about it. Instead, I found myself in downtown Little Rock with my best guy friend from high school and a guy four years older than me whom I had seen about three times in the past five years. After champagne and Auld Lange Syne, followed by an hour-long heart-to-heart in my friend's car, I got home around 3 am, with just enough time to sqeeze in about 4 hours of sleep before hopping on a bus to Atlanta, Georgia. I, along with 43,000 other college-age people, was attending the Passion conference, which was too awesome to describe here. Exhausted as I was, I plugged my ears with several hours worth of Peter Bradley Adams and simply thought about how happy I was, and how thankful I was to be happy.

This break, my last-ever college winter break, has been wonderful. It started with the wedding of my dear friend, Gabi, who I worked with at camp. Being one of 10 bridesmaids was a blast, as was seeing two generations of camp counselors come together for one big family reunion. Then came the Christmases, celebrated with family that I love oh so much. It ended with a Cotton Bowl party, with the most random guests I could have ever mixed together (including another camp friend who I had not seen for 3 years who happened to be driving through my tiny town), but it was so great! For the first time in four years, I feel like my break flew by; I am actually slightly sad to be leaving England and returning to Russellville.

Now let's go back to that heart-to-heart I mentioned eariler (so much for transitions, huh?). I was talking with my friend, who recently had his heart broken by a relationship, one of the many ways my own heart was broken over a year ago. All I could think about was how that was me last year. How in a year's time, I had made a complete 180. How somehow in that time I had found healing, freedom. How the credit and glory was all to Christ, who is constantly making us new. How is has come "to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound...to give them a beautiful headress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit (Isaiah 61:1-4)." And as I continued to speak truth about what God had done in my life and in my heart since last year, I realized, holy crap, this is the gospel.

Wholeness from shattered pieces.
Beauty from ashes.
Restoration from pain.
Hope from depravity.
LIFE from DEATH.

He's always making us new, if we let Him. I look back on the past year, and now I see that in times I swore God was standing still, He was actually busy at work. Because He's always moving, even when we can't see it.

2011 was not my favorite year, but I am thankful for who I have become because of it. I am also beginning to see how this year was necessary for me. 2011 not only healed me, but grew me. If Torn hearts have to be sewed back together if they are ever expected to work again; the process is painful, but when it's done, the heart can beat again and love again. In the past several months, God has done so much work in my heart and in my spirit, and while worn, both of them are stronger than before. (Ok, I've got to move on. This is beginning to sound like a combination of bad poetry and country music. But it's true.)

2012 is the year I graduate. It's the year I'm supposed to have my future figured out. I'm not so sure about that last part, but I am certain about this: 2012 is the year that I jump at the sun. If I miss, at least I'll be off the ground.

Happy new year!