There’s no questioning that this has been a difficult year. For some, this year has brought devastating losses of loved ones, jobs, plans and dreams. For all of us, the tumultuous intensity of the pandemic, civil unrest and toxic political climate has disrupted our status quo and has cast a heavy shadow of divisiveness and anger over us all.
I am not someone who believes that everything happens for a reason. There are way too many inexplicable horrors in our world for that to feel true. Yet, I do believe firmly that good can come even out of the most terrible circumstances. That belief that beauty can come out of the ashes of our lives is a vulnerable one, because it’s anchored to hope that even on the darkest day, the light will shine again.
In that spirit, I’ve been looking for the beauty in this difficult year. As I take a moment to notice the goodness in my life, my roots deepen in the present, my anxieties about the future quell and the irritations of the moment minimize. On the other side, I am more joyful and more grateful for the simple and beautiful moments in the day. If we can all just press pause on the vitriol of 2020, I think we’ll also find there are some things that have been really special about this year, that would not have happened if not for the circumstances.
Colleen Cook works full-time as the Director of Operations at Vinyl Marketing in Ashland, where she resides with her husband Mike and three young daughters. She’s an insatiable extrovert who enjoys finding reasons to gather people.
Simpler Summer
I have not had a suntan in a few years because life has been moving far too fast for me to have anything more than an afternoon outside. Between lessons, sports, playdates, work and social plans, I just haven’t made space for downtime outside. This summer, our family has discovered the incredible joy of the Lake Erie beaches, our state parks and the sweet simplicity of summer evenings in our own tiny backyard. The summer of 2020 has been spent digging in the sand, catching fireflies, riding bikes in the driveway and running through the sprinkler – discoveries we wouldn’t have made if we could have used our usual museum memberships and had filled the weekends with our usual summer busyness.
Committed Community
When we were ordered to stay home, my extroverted heart suffered. I found it brutally hard to be isolated from my friends and family. But, the beauty that rose out of the ashes of this year has been that I am more confident and connected with the circle of people who matter the most to me. I feel more bonded to the circle of friends and family members who we couldn’t live without, those who became a part of our quarantine container. Those relationships have strengthened as we all had to intentionally choose to be there for each other, to be together accepting an increased risk in making that choice. I’ve seen this happen with our church as well, as the rhythm of a Sunday gathering is out of whack, but the church continues to minister to each other and be there for each other as we journey through this year together and apart.
Intentional Rest
As our plans disappeared, and as I struggled with depression through the early part of the pandemic, I found myself clearing Saturday as a day of rest. That hasn’t meant that I sleep all day or don’t get out of bed, instead I intentionally do not work on Saturdays. I shut down my notifications and I clear the day to enjoy our young family, read books, go on walks and cook delicious meals. I’ve never been good about observing a Sabbath day of rest, until this year, and I hope I commit to this practice for the rest of my life, because it restores me.
We can all use a mental shift away from the negative, even if it’s just a momentary reprieve. Give some thought to the best parts of this year, what great things have come out of the challenges we’ve faced, and share them with your network of friends and family, spreading just a little joy in the midst of a very difficult time.
