In addition to the other million things that were just “heavy” in 2020, choosing my 2021 word of the year was equally as difficult. I spent much of December reflecting on the last 12 months and really trying to put myself in a similar headspace to that which helped me select my previous 3 words.

But no matter how hard I tried, there was no possible way my headspace could mirror those previous years. This year was hard. In a multitude of ways and for a multitude of reasons. And I really don’t EVER remember a year challenging me as much as this one. So I had to come at this a little different.

LEAP was my 2018 word. I remember sitting at my kitchen counter randomly selecting that word out of thin air in hopes that it would infiltrate every bit of my soul, transforming me into this courageous badass that I knew I really was in the inside. (In 2018, I was still very guarded, very hidden, and verrrrry introverted to the naked eyes). But LEAP propelled me into the beginning of a new era. An era where I began to abandon my fear, leap into new opportunities, leap into new experiences, leap without worry. An era where I tried new things and stepped a little more boldly into the choices i made. That year – and moreso, that word – opened up so much in my life. From new friendships to counseling to a creative’s conference which would birth a business at the year’s end. That word was really a catalyst for where I’m at today.

So in 2019, I selected CULTIVATE as my intention for the year and I was fully prepared to sit in all of the new avenues unearthed the year prior. I was ready to start digging. I’d rediscovered myself through counseling and pastoral ministry and paying attention to my heart in new ways became my addiction. Studying its patterns in the same way you cultivate and study a garden. Only this was my heart’s garden. The cycle of tending, nurturing, watering and necessary pruning was one I occupied for these 12 months.

And this time last year, I was introducing CONFIDENCE as my intention for this new year. Planning to blend the last two words, I was so ready to take everything I’d dug up, everything I’d watered and step out into all things new. Ready to peel back new layers of healing. Ready to own more of myself and bring the newly discovered me front and center, where I knew I needed to be. But confidence didn’t show up in ways I imagined. Confidence didn’t come in the big, front and center ways I’d assumed. For much of the year, confidence didn’t come up at all. I struggled to make it through, emotionally. There weren’t many opportunities to develop confidence MY way. We were locked down. Socially distant. No big stages for me to stand on. And I was really fragile, battling with isolation and my newly discovered anxiety. When I did notice confidence, it was usually in other ways – some in business sense, in relationships, in difficult conversations. I had to abandon my pride – which is huge for a 2 – and build a confidence to share my feelings and express my thoughts and opinions with those I felt safest with. That was honestly the only way I would survive much of this year. As I try and reflect back on what the pandemic has taught me, I’m pretty much at a wall. I haven’t processed the entirety of the year out yet, but I will say, I found my word confidence again. I found a confidence I didn’t know I needed in 2020. A trust – a deeper trust that not only showed me God’s sustenance and provision during a drought season, but I realized that instead of emerging from 2020 with a big, bold confidence in ME, I’ve actually grown a big, bold confidence in HIM. And I’m so grateful He altered my definition.

One of the areas I’ve really struggled with for much of 2020, and even prior to the pandemic, is feeling unseen. Left behind. In some seasons, I’ve even referred to it as feeling forgotten. Much of the year has felt like an emotional struggle just to find my role, my value, my worth or just my place in family dynamics, in friendships, in ministry, in business, in my walk. For so much of my life, I’ve been fighting on the inside to feel like I belong somewhere and like I’m right where I should be.

So it comes as no surprise that I struggle to balance the celebratory emotions of engagements, marriages, pregnancies and motherhood with the sorrow of a desire that grows deeper and more passionate with every announcement. One begins to feel flawed in some way or lacking in their performance when what they desire happens with a perceived ease for everyone else BUT them. Ya ever get that feeling? Like, what is wrong with me? What am I doing wrong? Why is life progressing for everyone around me? I’ve thought these exact thoughts hundreds of times this year. And most times, I was simply seeking validation for my wounds. Longing to find MY place in a world that, sometimes, felt like it was zooming all around me. I wanted the fervent, prophetic prayer and petition that seemed to accompany so many others’ struggles. But instead of actually feeling “seen” in the middle of my pain or “validated,” often times the band-aid of “waiting on God’s timing” was slapped on. And in time, that was all I could see. Especially this year, that blinding vision of God’s timing became the start of my focus for my 2021 word.

What 2020 has truly instilled me is that time – God’s timing specifically – while precious, is just necessary. And that, if you surrender complete control, He really does heal and He does redeem, making everything beautiful in His time.

At the start of the year, I had a really hard time coming to terms with the broken nature of my family. We suffered a messy split a couple years earlier and after being in each other’s lives for over 20 years, I had almost zero communication with my sister-in-law. I was hardly seeing my nieces and nephew. And I felt immediate tension arise every time names were even discussed. It really took its toll on me when the pandemic hit and social distancing only increased the space between us all. But here I stand, one year later, closing out the year having actual phone conversations with my sister-in-law. Seeing my nieces and nephew quite often, some multiple times a week. Talking to them on the phone and Facetiming, equally as much. Walking alongside them as they begin to process their grief. And two families that were ripped apart by divorce in 2018 are slowly becoming apart of each other’s dynamic again. In a new kind of way.
All His way. All His timing.

My business, which I officially started in November 2019, kicked off 2020 with 17 sales. One product available. Sold to 7 different states. A basic website. And though I was SO grateful for this, I was one exhausted owner. An owner who had zero time to pour into herself because she was so busy trying to make her business what she thought everyone else wanted it to be. And doing so on her lunch breaks and in the few hours she had after her 10-12 hour work days. But in March, I lost my job. And as hard as it is to sit and comprehend that I’ve now been jobless for over 9 months, I can’t even believe where LoveMo sits today.
182 sales. 16 products available. Sold to 30 different states and 4 countries worldwide. A beautifully designed website (created by moi!) An Etsy page. A Pinterest page. A conference sponsor. A published blogger. And an owner who is learning that the only way to authentically present this business to the world is by showing up for herself first. Who is learning how to touch base with herself first before pouring into this small business. And in return, her heart’s desire is turning out to be exactly what people really need to heal themselves.
All His way. All His timing.

Time has been a concept I’ve ALWAYS struggled with.
And patience has been a gift I’ve strived to acquire every single moment of this year.
In these moments, where I may struggle in the waiting, as I hold my own heart and become my own champion, I must remind myself that:

There is a time for everything,
And a season for every activity under the heavens:

A time to be born and a time to die,
A time to plant and a time to uproot,

A time to kill and a time to heal,
A time to tear down and a time to build,

A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance,

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

A time to search and a time to give up,
A time to keep and a time to throw away,

A time to tear and a time to mend,
A time to be silent and a time to speak,

A time to love and a time to hate,
A time for war and a time for peace.

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

He is intentional in His design. And if I’ve ever let that slip my mind, 2020 was the sweetest reminder of Him moving. Constantly moving. Writing a story that is 10000% MINE. So as I stared at the narrowed down selection of words I envisioned for this new year, I wanted a constant reminder in the coming year that:

every thing I do,

every thing I say,

every person I meet,

every experience I have,

every decision I make,

every emotion I feel,

every platform I have,

every waiting room I find myself in,

every relationship I foster,

every opportunity I have and every one that passes me by,

every encounter and interaction I come across,

every failure (or pivot) I’m faced with but also every triumph I celebrate

every hard thing,

and every good thing,

has its time.

So cheers to my 2021 word of the year – PURPOSE!

Trusting that everything coming my way in the new year is meant just for me. Because I AM SEEN. I DO have a place – and a very prominent role – in the story He’s penning for me. And deep down, past all the impatience and all the hurry, I know that He will make all things beautiful… all His way. All in His time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

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Have you selected a 2021 WORD OF THE YEAR? If so, share with us below! We’d love to keep your words and intentions in prayer this year!