Take the Good With the Bad

Well, we did it. We finally kicked 2020 to the curb. How many times over the last twelve months did we BEG for the year to be done and over? I don’t know about you, but I lost count somewhere back in May. 2020 will most definitely be one for the history books; a year we tell our grandchildren about and compare all future years to. Soon we’ll be donning t-shirts that say, “It could be worse. Remember 2020?” It’s hard to imagine anything will seem quite so bad as what we’ve just endured. It would be easy to look back and list all the disappointments, all the losses, all the inconveniences, all the misery (perhaps even all the day drinking) that made up March through December, but instead, I encourage you to reflect on what you gained (and I don’t mean in weight), what you accomplished (showering and making it off the couch don’t count), and what you learned (besides how to change your Zoom background). You may have to dig deep, but I’ll bet you have more to celebrate than just surviving the year.

Around the dinner table last night, on New Year’s Eve, I challenged my family to come up with every positive thing about 2020 we could think of. One by one we came up with twenty-seven victories, celebrations, and highlights. Twenty-seven! We wrote each one down on a card; things like Justice learning to ride his bike without training wheels, Providence earning the Encourager Award at school, trips to San Diego and Las Vegas, Daddy running his first 10k, and Mommy kissing a goat. (It’s true. I did.) We posted them around our dining room to serve as reminders of God’s goodness amid difficult seasons. Yes, we had many things taken away from us, but we were still given oh so much. The vacations we had planned, the parties we could’ve hosted, the friends we wanted to see, the shows we missed, all dim in comparison to the stack of 27 moments worth celebrating. On top of it all, we remained healthy, my husband remained employed, and my kids spent four months IN school. We take none of those things for granted.

Many in the Bible could empathize with our plight of enduring a difficult year of loss and struggle. I dare say none of them have a story that holds a candle to Job. Blameless, upright Job lost everything dear to him, save for his wife and a small handful of friends. What was his first response? He fell to the ground and worshipped, saying, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised,” (Job 1:21). While he grieved profound losses, he also acknowledged what he still had and what he’d been given. Oh, that we could do the same. May we accept not only the blessings but also the suffering when it comes, consistently praising His name in both.

As I lay in bed last night, I marveled at the resilience of our little family. Our sweet children endured so many letdowns. For a few months there, nothing went the way they’d hoped. They had to adjust and pivot more times than they could count. There were days the tears just wouldn’t stop falling; days when just getting out of their pajamas felt like a monumental task. They hit emotional lows I didn’t know existed at their age. But time and time again I watched my kids pull themselves up by their bootstraps, take a deep breath, and put smiles back on their faces. They were so very brave. They tackled new normals week after week, adjusting their expectations and accepting the here and now. I admire their strength and their courage. Their humor and positive outlook brought balance to our days. Their spontaneous dance parties and “up for anything” attitudes made even the longest days seem manageable. My children learned more about gratitude in one year than I could’ve ever hoped to teach them through lectures or books. What a priceless life lesson 2020 turned out to be for them (and for all of us, really). My husband, well, he was our rock. He held up our family when we were ready to throw in the towel so many times. He embraced me in my many moments of despair. He wiped tears off my face and promised me things would get better. He didn’t judge me for all the wine I drank and he assured me I was still a good mom even after I’d lost my cool for the hundredth time in a single day. My husband was my biggest encourager as I navigated distance learning with our kids (all you homeschool moms have my undying respect and admiration). He held us together all while he was adjusting to working from home and taking on a whole new list of challenges. We would have surely sunk without his trusted leadership and steadfastness. And me? Well, I did my very best to not just survive, but to thrive. I put a positive spin on distance learning- adding art projects and activities to our daily grind. I brought back Christmas in May to the delight of my children. I CAMPED IN THE BACKYARD. (My faithful readers know what a sacrifice/victory this was for me.) I led Bible studies and hosted outdoor movie nights with women and friends I treasure. I joined a running club. (Also a big sacrifice/victory.) And of course, I started a blog! That alone is a bucket list item I’ve wanted to check off for years.

Seven years ago when my husband told me he was being pursued by a job in Tucson, I groaned. “The desert. Dry, brown, flat, and nothing but sand for miles. And Tucson? It’s so far south it might as well be the equator. Ugh, it’s going to be SO hot,” I thought. I’d seen pictures of the cactus. They all looked the same. They were nothing but aggressive-looking shrubs, covered in dangerous spines, threatening to impale you at the slightest movement. A month later when we arrived in Tucson for a weekend of interviews, I was floored by what I saw. It was mid-March, (springtime in the desert), arguably the most beautiful time of the year here. The vast landscape of rocks and sand was littered with cactus in bloom, coming alive in every color and variety imaginable. Palo Verde trees were overloaded with shockingly yellow flowers. And the horizon? It was anything but flat. Everywhere we looked we were surrounded by mountains. The first sunset we witnessed was the most picturesque we’d ever seen, (and every Tucson sunset since has left us in similar awe). The desert was nothing like I expected. It was far more beautiful. Who knew such a dry and desolate place could hold so many treasures? Had we come any other time of year, we would’ve missed it. (When we made the move, it was July, and of course, the blooms were all gone and the temperatures had risen to triple digits. It felt like we had relocated to the surface of the sun, but that’s not the point.) Sometimes you have to look hard, at just the right time, to see the blooms among the thorns. The outlook may look bleak, dangerous even, but rest assured, buried underneath is a world of color just waiting to burst forth. If you hang in there long enough, it’s worth waiting for. We desert dwellers know this so well. Yes, the summers are scorching and long, but we know spring is coming. We know our world will come alive with color and our temperatures will drop to beautifully temperate if we endure. Living here, you take the good with the bad. Looking back at 2020, we need to do that too. Grieve what you need to, but celebrate too. God is still God, and He is still good. How can we keep from singing?

“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.” -Job 1:21