Happy New Year!
At the start of 2022, my extended family braced for the imminent death of a beloved family member while my immediate family began the process of other life-altering changes. By March, I was emotionally drained but determined to live abundantly.
Loss motivated me to reevaluate my life.
In the public relations industry, we measure just about everything. It stems from the idea that if you don’t measure, you can’t improve. Let’s say it had been a while since I sat down to dig deep into the results of my actions, motivations, and commitments in my personal life. Self-reflection made me realize that I wasn’t building the life I was purposed to live.
Then, I started to mourn. Grief is a tricky thing because all of us handle it differently. Grief makes me busy but not consistently productive. I spent a good portion of last year in productive procrastination mode because I knew that as soon as I moved forward with the tasks I needed to complete, there would be another phase of loss to push through.
Each item marked complete left me feeling both accomplished and anxious. But I persevered. Now, I’m here. Sitting on the sofa in the living room of a home nestled on just under an acre of land in Metro-Atlanta that God blessed me to purchase.
Won’t He do it? (Just in case you didn’t know, He is God.)
I am not writing my homeownership testimony as a brag. I want to use it to show you that even with loss, life goes on. There is beauty in what remains.
I could have curled up in my bed in my lovely apartment and shut out my family. I could have been angry at how utterly unfair life is and used my broken heart to lash out and hurt others. Instead, I chose hope.
I remembered my aunt’s lessons about love and life and used them to fuel my next moves. I chose to continue to treat people the way I want to be treated, knowing that light exposes darkness. I decided to model the behavior I want my children to model.
We lose things, and we lose people. Sometimes it’s via cancer, a change in location, broken relationships, job termination, or outright bad decisions. But there is always something left.
There are the people who stay, the lessons you learn, and the hope in your heart.
And there is always YOU.
Even if nothing and no one is around, you are here.
You are…
Standing tall.
Made, fearfully and wonderfully.
Strong and courageous.
Purposed.
Gifted.
Loved
God shined His glory upon you, and with the power he has given you, you can take what remains and build a beautiful life in 2023.
And, as I texted a dear friend of mine this morning as she embarked on a new adventure, “I can’t wait to see what magic you make.”
I wish you the safest, best, brightest, and most blessed new year ever!
Live in love,
M.
