My Word for 2022.

New years eve has always been my favorite holiday. I soak up all the feelings of nostalgia that come with it. Pondering the years’ memories, my mosts listened-to songs (don’t you just love Spotify’s ”unwrap your year”?), and all the pictures make me feel hopeful and energized to enter a new year. This year felt different. The effects of the pandemic didn’t really take a toll on me in 2020 so much as 2021. I felt like I lost control and with it vision, passion, and bit of purpose. It was like 2021 had cadapulted me backwards. In this difficult year, I’d taken an intermission from teaching yoga, began to question my future as an educator, and wrestled with what it looked like to live out my faith. So, though it was hard to consider planning for a new year, I’ve begun to think about a word to set my heart on this year. The word I’ve arrived at is - presence.

When I took the Strengthsfinder test one of top five strengths was ”futuristic.” Strengthfinder defines futuristic people who as the “dreamers and perceivers of what could be, what might be, and then in turn direct their lives toward this future.” For a long time, my plan was so clear. I would teach for 2-3 more years before having children and also work at the yoga studio part-time. Maybe I’d get my masters on the side while raising a family and continuing to teach my yoga classes. Then I’d go back into education once my kids hit school-age. I’d teach until I’d reached my “30 years” and retire with Collin and my lofty educator pension in our off-the-grid container home. As laughable as it might sound that I’d planned this vision for my life - all the way until retirement, it brought me comfort and a sense of internal peace knowing what was ahead and exactly how to plan for it.

But what happens when the career you were were once so sure about, evolves and changes (from unforseen ”pandemical” circumstances) and causes you to question your longevity in the profession? That’s where I am now - questioning whether I want to continue teaching. And its scary, because I like to know what’s in my future. As I entered 2022 - I was so unsure of what life will look like in 6 months. Will I stay in education? Will I renew my contract for the next year? What if I were to step into a new role? Begin a new career path? All these questions distracted my mind and prayers.

As I was pondering (more like worrying) about these things, the Lord was working on my heart. He reminded me of that the beauty of not knowing the future, is the inexplicable joy that can be found in the present. And He reminded me that my identity is not found in my amount of doing, completing, and performing, but rather it is found in Himself and His promises.

”God, my Shepherd! I don’t need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.” (Ps. 23:1-3 MSG)

“I don’t think the way you think. The way you work isn’t the way I work,” says the Lord. “For as the sky soars high above the earth, so the way I work surpasses the way you work.” (Isaiah 55:8-9 MSG)

Thank God that He uses frustrated, future-minded people like me to carry out His good work. When I’m confused and stumbling in the mire of uncertainty, he reminds me “I don’t think the way you think. The way you work isn’t the way I work.” While I continue to faithfully work where I’m at, I’m hopeful, nervous, and eager as I enter this new year. I look forward to reporting what He does, and how my story continues to unfold. Thank goodness the ending isn’t written yet.

Warmly,

Audrey