2021 almost did me in.
Last year challenged everything I’ve ever thought to be true.
More often than not, 2021 felt like surviving a plane crash into the ocean. After the initial shock of the impact, I began spinning in circles looking for help. The only thing I can see is more ocean in every direction. No shoreline. No passing ships.
Exhausted from dog paddling to keep my head above water. The waves so easily pull me under, and I get lost beneath the water trying to find a way to come up for air. My lungs burn for a deep inhale.
2021 is littered with my mistakes. Times I reacted out of pain, fretted when I should have praised, blamed when I should have taken ownership, and squandered time that God wanted to redeem.
To add to the pain, some people didn’t understand. Many were unsure how to respond to my pain or disappointed by my emotions & mistakes. Others shamed. Telling me I should be doing this or shouldn’t be doing that. Some spoke the truth, but without love. A few spoke lies and accusations.
But, even though 2021 was difficult, there are many lessons I’m learning in the ocean.
A primary one being that idols of the heart are as dangerous as the Bible warns. God, in His loving foresight, tells us not to put anything before Himself:
You shall have no other gods before me.
Exodus 20:3
Do not turn to idols or make metal gods for yourselves. I am the LORD your God.
Leviticus 19:4
Go and cry out to the gods you have chosen. Let them save you when you are in trouble!
Judges 10:14
Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.
Psalm 16:4
Those who cling to worthless idols turn away from God’s love for them.
Jonah 2:8
Ignorant are those who carry about idols of wood, who pray to gods that cannot save.
Isaiah 45:20
Therefore, my dear friends, flee from idolatry.
1 Corinthians 10:14
Dear Children, keep yourselves from idols.
1 John 5:21
In this world, it is easy for love to blur into idolization. Gifts to become greater than the Giver. Before we know it, we can place our hope and identity in things other than Jesus. Our roles and relationships define us. We trust ourselves: our hearts, our choices, our desires. We become our own idols.
When I needed things of this world to save me, they failed. When I needed something temporary to define my worth, it couldn’t. In the middle of the ocean, my idols couldn’t give me purpose, security, salvation, companionship, or comfort.
While trying not to drown, I questioned who is God? Who am I? What is my purpose?!
I had to release God from the responsibility of man’s moral failures. Trusting that God didn’t conspire against me, but instead hurts with me. He sees wrongs done, the injustice of certain things, and it bothers him too. He’s for me. With me. Holding onto me.
He will not let me drown out in the ocean, but in His love, He’s allowing this season.
I’ve had to wrestle with forgiveness. What it means and what it doesn’t mean. Biblical forgiveness is different from what I thought it was and what I have taught in the past.
It’s scary in the ocean. Waves of loneliness, hurt, deception, and betrayal continually crash. I’m waiting on the Lord’s rescue boat with the realization that His boat will look different than I want it to. (Cue more waves of grief, but a buoy of hope.)
I look different at the beginning of this year than I did at the beginning of last year. Ten months in an ocean will do that to you. My physical appearance can’t hide the toll of the stress, but I’m becoming stronger. The lessons I’m learning in the ocean are ones the younger me wouldn’t have been sturdy enough to learn.
And while this is my “plane crash” to navigate. There have been people who have stayed with me. Ones who have lifted my head above the waters when I had no strength to stay afloat. The ones who wouldn’t leave even when, in my near-drowning fits, I began pulling them down too. Their staying power is incredible. They listen, speak the truth in love, proclaim Scripture, and hold space for me right where I am. My circle has gotten smaller, but much more intimate. I wouldn’t trade the raw, emotional conversations with the few friends who see me in the ocean for a million shallow conversations with people I’m passing by.
2021 also confirmed what I already knew to be true: professional counseling is a mighty ministry. Working with two skilled therapists has been such a gift from God. They do holy and messy work with wisdom and grace. Their offices are holy ground for me and I will forever be grateful for their courageous work.
So while 2021 almost did me in. It didn’t.
God is at work. He is removing idols, healing wounds, and extending grace. In His time, I won’t feel so much like a plane crash victim. I’ll be an incredible swimmer, someone who can navigate the deep waters of grief better than I used to. Someone who will join others in their plane crash moments just like those who have been there for me. And one day, I will look back on 2021 and see, with hindsight, the holy work the Lord did while I was “surviving.”
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