A Word for 2020 (And A Thank You to 2019)

Happy New Year! After a full, joyful yet germ-filled break, we are back to the grind of work and school. In between the laundry and unpacking and grocery shopping and cleaning, I’m taking a few minutes to welcome the new decade. When our family celebrated New Year’s, Declan said, “I’m going to write a Thank You Letter to 2019 and a Welcome Letter to 2020.” I thought that was a brilliant idea. Here are mine. Maybe you’ll be inspired to write your own.

2019, Thank You for all the new opportunities, the chances to grow and stretch and learn. Last year was the first time I had a Word of the Year - TRUST. 2019, you taught me so much about trust, as I released the podcast and the book into the world. You taught me trust as I sent my kids to school. You reminded me again and again that I’m not in in control, but I’m also not alone .Thank you, for coffee and friendship and laughter and family, for tears and dreams and trips and rest. Thank you, for every single moment.

2020, Welcome! May I be open to all you might hold. May I not be fearful or anxious; may I continue to deepen in the trust this past year has taught me. My word for 2020 is HOPE. My spiritual director offered me that word, along with a challenge. We were processing some transitions coming up this year, and I said, “I’d like to feel hopeful, but I mostly feel nervous.” She replied, “You may want to think about how to live out hope, instead of just feeling it.”

As I’ve sat with that concept, and wondered what an active hope would look like, I’ve become more and more intrigued about the possibility of hope. I’ve made the journey from feeling to verb with love - love has grown muscles and skin and strength. Faith has moved as well, from a feeling to an active living out. What would it look like to embark on that journey with hope? Instead of sitting back and wanting to feel hopeful, how might I be hope in the world?

One clear way I’m already being invited to live out hope - and to deepen in the trust I learned last year - is by asking for your help. In the last few weeks of December, both my laptop and my microphone died. For the Life As Spiritual Practice podcast to continue, I need new equipment. Would you be able to donate even $5 or $10 to keep it going? You’ll receive another email in a few days about the podcast and fundraising, but for now please check out my GoFundMe and share if you can.

If you write a letter to 2019 or 2020, or pick a word of the year, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me an email, comment on the blog or on social media. May this new year contain joy and surprise and growth for all of us.

May You Know Courage

I wrote this blessing for myself, during a particularly challenging week. It is not just for me, though. It is for you, too. I hope it will be a gift for you, for the days you need some courage. 

A Blessing for Courage

May you know that courage is not always stoic and even-keeled or brash and risky.

May you know that courage can wear different faces:

It can sneak around your shoulders as you are overwhelmed by tears.

It can steal into your heart when you think all that lives there is fear.

It can pour down your shoulders and out through your fingers, mingling with a righteous anger.

It can live in your breath as you sit with the hard things and just breathe, in…

And out…

 

I was going to write you a blessing to summon courage,

A prayer that would gird you with it like armor, but look:

Courage is already here.

 

So instead, I pray:

May your eyes be open to its presence.

May your heart be clear and spacious enough for courage to spread out, move around,

and stretch its way into showing you what it might mean to live your courage.

And when you know where your courage is leading you,

May your steps be strong and firm.

Courage is already here.