Gratitude

I've been feeling reflective lately, thinking back in particular over the year that has been. There have been lots of quiet anniversary markers over the past several months as a number of "one year today since..." milestones have come and gone, and as I've remembered some of the harder transitions of the past year, I've found myself becoming increasingly grateful for the moments of beauty that have come along the way.

This picture resonates with me as I reflect on some of the moments that leave me with a profound sense of gratitude--in the midst of the sharp and painful edges of the year, there has also been abundant beauty, for which I am so very grateful.

The blog is too public a forum for me to link names and stories with these spots of beauty, but in my mind with each one of these anonymous snapshots is a face and a name, a person for whose presence in my life this past year I'm profoundly grateful.

I'm grateful for each and every moment in which someone has understood without question my need to grieve the closing of House Blend and the loss of the community I loved--for the permission and encouragement to find safe spaces to process the hurt that I was feeling, for the acknowledgment that grieving is normal and healthy. For everyone who has, however briefly, stood with me without exerting pressure to 'be okay' when I simply wasn't. Thank you for teaching me the value and importance of the practice of lament.

For the people who held space for me to question my own vocation in ministry--who allowed me to ask the very hard questions that I needed to ask. Who didn't rush in to offer easy answers, as much as they might have wanted to. Who believed in me enough to trust that the answers would come, in time.

For the people who believed in me when I needed it most. I can't express how important it was to know that there were people who could still envision a future for me in which I was free to use my gifts to serve within the church--who still believed that I had something to offer, even when the way forward wasn't at all clear to me. Who reached out to tap me on the shoulder, to remind me that they were still in my corner. Who, in the end, spoke more loudly than the critics. Who reminded me of the power of being enfolded by the love of a community.

In a year that hasn't been easy, one of the things that stands out the most as I look back is the beauty offered by so many loving words, warm hugs, and honest affirmations. By people who made space for all of me, not just the bright and shiny parts. By people who never stopped believing that God has good work for me to do yet.

In a year that hasn't always been the greatest year, I'm grateful because these cumulative experiences of being loved have given me a picture for the kind of church that I want to be part of going forward--a church that persistently sees the good in others; that is quick to offer love, especially to those who are lonely or hurting; that believes that God has good work for us to participate in; that make space for vulnerability and honesty, even when it's uncomfortable; and that manages to be beauty incarnate even in the hard spaces in life.

Much has been given to me this year. I hope that I can find some way to pay it forward in the future.