As I read through blogs that I follow, I have seen a lot of reminiscing of what 2013 was for each person. The good and the bad. The pretty and the ugly. The happy and the sad. I debated a happy recap for 2013, and I debated a depressingly sad recap for 2013. Neither option seemed right. What was 2013 for me? What was it for my family, my marriage, my children, my friendships, and for my church? I thought about asking friends to write down their account of how they saw me this past year, and I pray as I think of the ways that I have walked through the good and the bad that I have radiated Christ above all. I want to remember it as a year of hope in the midst of pain, and I want others to say that I was gracious and held my head high. I am sure that I did not hold my head high all the time, and I know that I probably did not extend grace like I should have, but I do know that my salvation became more real to me than it ever has before in 2013.
Hope in death.
That my marriage is my rock.
The joy that comes from a child.
Who my baby girl is and was made to be.
The Lord loves me and meets me where I am.
That music is very important to me.
That some relationships are worth holding onto and some are okay to walk away from.
To love others when they’re hurting.
How to walk with people where they are.
Lastly, I guess, because the list could go on and on, but to enjoy the little things.
I really learned that I am so small, and that I have so much to learn. As I thought about one word that would describe 2013 to me it was darkness. This last year was the darkest place that I have ever been in my entire life, and I am afraid that as I begin 2014, I still feel lonely, dark, and sad. Yet, in 2013 I felt light in the darkness, and each time I think of a dark moment, there was/is always a light that came. It appeared even when there seemed no way for the sun to shine, somehow or somewhere the sun would peek behind the clouds.
I think that’s why I love sunsets now. As the darkness appears, there’s hope, beauty, peace, and rest. And of course, I love sunsets, because I see my baby girl painting them for me in heaven.
My hope is in Christ alone. He is my anchor and my light in the darkness. And as I listen to music and type away my emotions with mascara slowly streaming down my cheeks, I am thankful that 2013 was dark, and that I know Christ is real and that my hope in heaven is real. I am glad 2013 gave me the greatest gift in my Mary Anna who was not a mistake or an accident, but she was perfectly made in Christ image for a purpose and a time. Her life was meaningful, and as each day ends, and the darkness seems to appear again, I see hope in her life through the darkness. I see Christ in the darkness.
the Lord turns my darkness into light.