The Next Step

2020. A year that started out so hopeful, as most years do. A year bursting at the seams with possibilities.

All of which went down the drain the moment we heard the word coronavirus.

Followed by equally appalling words like deadly disease. Global pandemic. Worldwide shutdown. Racial injustice. Division. Hatred. . .

I think you get the point.

2020 wasn’t exactly gift-wrapped, topped with a perfectly symmetrical red bow, and left on our doorstep like we’d hoped it would be. In fact, it was every bit the opposite.

2020 was uncomfortable and messy. It was painful, at times excruciatingly so. Heartbreaking and leaving us wanting to pull our hair out. It shattered our plans and locked us in our houses. It wasn’t what we asked for and we didn’t have a return-address to exchange such a colossal disaster in for something better.

This was it. This is what we got. No take backs, no exchanges.

Anxiety, fear, sickness, hurt, and loss. More ugly words that seemed to be the common theme of this year early on. Whether it latched onto us directly, or those around us, it was no stranger to anyone. I found myself asking the same question over and over again. What was the point?

Because there had to be one, right? This couldn’t all be for nothing. I was exhausted, but I reminded myself who still held the control. Despite everything, I found trust in that.

I knew that some battles were more than just the simple definition of the word. Some battles had a bigger purpose. I’m sure there were countless times God wished He could fight this battle for us. To stand in-between us and all things daring to harm us, like the protective Father He is. But as we know, sometimes He chooses not to. Because He sees what we don’t. He knows what we don’t. He knows there are battles we’re meant to endure for reasons we can’t see.

Yet.

So, maybe it wasn’t necessarily about what we were facing. Maybe it was about why we were facing it. And whether or not we would allow it to wake us up.

When facing things like anxiety or sickness, sometimes our first instinct is to pretend it’s not there. To run or hide from it, expecting it to mysteriously disappear if we ignore it long enough. But I think it’s safe to say hiding under the covers wasn’t enough to make 2020 disappear. Nothing would. We were being forced to fight this one straight on. To look it dead in the eyes. Which wasn’t exactly easy, but “easy” was never part of the deal.

Facing something you fear is never going to be easy. It’s supposed to be hard. We just have to remember hard and impossible are two different things. So, we pressed on. Because really, what choice did we have? We looked at everything this year brought our way. We took it in. Felt it. Felt the sharp, ugly edges without trying to make them soft and pretty. What purpose did these sharp edges have? What were they trying to say?

• “When it feels like the walls are closing in, maybe it’s because you’ve begun to outgrow them.”

This was a quote I read once, but I can’t remember who said it. And I wish I did because I want to thank them. It was this quote that opened my eyes to the raw truth of this year’s intent.

And that is, maybe where we are now is not where we are meant to stay. The next step is waiting for us.

It’s funny how we have to be forced into seeing something that should’ve always been obvious.

We’re at a turning point as a society. It’s here where we have a choice to make. Either we use the sharp edges as an opportunity to carve out a door to what’s calling us, or we soften those jagged edges and turn the other way, remaining in our comfort zones (the latter of which you’ll find to be a form of self-sabotage).

Yes, 2020 has been all things horrific and unsettling. But sometimes it takes being uncomfortable to wake up. We needed to wake up. It’s why God chose not to soften the edges for us, why He chose to leave us uncomfortable. He’s been preparing us for what’s to come. Change is often required for His plan over our lives. It will always cost us.

It’s going to cost us our comfort zones. Our relationships. Our plans. Our dreams. Our direction.

It’s going to cost us everything.

And it isn’t until we reach that breaking point that we see everything we’re meant to be is going to cost us everything that we are.

Is it worth it?

We’re at the end of this brutally crucial year. A year so influential, we’ll never forget it. We’re at the end of everything we’ve ever known about ourselves. We feel like we’ve been pushed in such an uncomfortable direction that we want to do everything we can to stop it. To change the direction. It’s our instinct to become comfortable and stay that way.

But being pushed the way we have for the last 365 days forces us to do things we wouldn’t otherwise. It forces us to see things we’ve tried to ignore, whether intentionally or not.

So again, I ask, is it worth it?

Everything about the other side of this doorway we’re facing is unknown, I get that. What if next year is just as bad as the last? What if it’s worse? Our understanding of it starts and ends at that door.

That is, until we choose to take the next step. We don’t have to see everything on the other side. We just have to see enough to take another step.

Ultimately, the choice is ours. That’s the beauty of free will. God will push us, but we still have the power to dig our heels in the dirt and refuse to move.

We could choose that path. Forgetting all that 2020 woke us up to and reverting back to who we were. Reversing the clock back to 11:59 p.m. December 31, 2019.

Or we could choose to remember every ugly and horrific thing that happened this year and take it for what it is; the next step.

2020 opened the door. Are you going to take the next step?