A Look Back || 2020

 Yesterday, the kids went back to school and I spent much of the day climbing out of the sweet abyss of December.  And by that I mean I paid the bills that arrived at the same time as the Christmas cards and were put on the back burner because they were far less cheery.  I sent my last returns back to the UPS Store, recycled the last of the boxes, sifted through my email inbox, and finally put away the last of the pre and post Christmas clutter that had been camping out in that clothes basket in the laundry room.  You know, the basket overflowing with leftover Christmas candy, instruction booklets for the latest electronic gifted to Cruz, that candle I never got around to using, Mila's endless paper trail of notes and handmade cards for Boone, and the leftover Christmas cards I never know what to do with.  I know it's not February yet, but I felt like the groundhog slowly climbing out of his cozy hole toward the light and fresh air of spring.  Spring may still be a few months away, but January and its blank canvas and fresh inspiration always leaves me with a similar taste of hope and possibility.

But first, a look back at 2020.  The year we stayed home.  I use Rifle Paper Company's Five Year Journal and always love looking back at how the year unfolded in its pages.  And it feels like a lifetime ago that I sat down with four friends to read Rhythms of Renewal as a way to start the year with inspiration for healthy rhythms to guide our lives and families.  Who would have guessed at that time that just two months later, our routines, homes, lives, and society in general would look anything but in rhythm.  Rhythms were replaced with names and terms that would become part of our everyday language - Coronavirus, COVID-19, flatten the curve, social distancing, Dr. Fauci, quarantine, Zoom, mask mandates, global pandemic.  Terms that changed life as we knew it and at times, left us in fear, uncertainty, confusion, and disarray.  My grandma still remembers the day JFK was shot and killed.  I will never forget that morning in high school when I first heard the World Trade Centers were attacked.  And now, I'm quite certain I will never forget sitting with Beau, just a week away from hopping on a plane with the kids for their first international adventure, watching President Trump address the nation and say he was closing our borders as an emergency measure to mitigate the spread of this "China virus."  It all felt like the Twilight Zone.  We ended up going to Jamaica, had a wonderful Spring Break, and returned to Minneapolis to a completely different world.  The airport parking lot was literally empty, we couldn't find a taxi service to give us a ride to our hotel where our car was parked, and I wondered the entire ride home whether we had enough toilet paper and provisions to keep us stocked at home for our quarantine.  The kids never returned to school that year, and that seemed to be just the start.  Businesses shut down, frontline workers became our biggest heroes, we watched devastating numbers of COVID deaths increase, and suddenly questioned every cough, sore throat, or strange ailment wondering if we should get our test.  And I could go on and on and on.  

But I won't.  Because as I look back at this year that was unlike any other, I mostly stand grateful, humbled, and in awe of the people I learned from and did life with, the opportunities to pause and question and grow, the extra time to be together in new ways, and the lessons that were learned as we were called to adapt, pivot, and simply take one day at a time.  I think of the small businesses who got creative with their resources - front porch pictures of families, exercise bikes delivered to my doorstep, Friday night drive-thru cocktails picked up in preparation from a Zoom-style game night with friends.  I think of watching John Krasinski's Some Good News, and bawling at the tender signs of love expressed through the most beautiful ways.  I think of the letters the kids wrote and mailed to their grandmas and grandpas, the school driveway parades, Sunday morning church and breakfasts dropped off on Sorbe's porch, and all the meals we shared as a family around the table.  It is possible to mourn what was lost AND be grateful for what was gained.  And the expressions of love, hope, connection, and slowing down are the memories I want to remember most about 2020.

What a year!  The year we ate at the table more than any other and I finally finished cooking through Magnolia Cookbook.  The year I worked from home AND got to try out my hand at home-schooling, which I loved most days.  The year we hoarded toilet paper, hosted Zoom game nights, and binged Tiger King (among many other things).  The year we adventured - hikes in all four seasons at Hartman, day trips to state parks, and a spontaneous week glamping and exploring South Dakota.  The year of my Peloton, Taylor Swift's Folklore, three Harry Potter books with Cruz, and many summer days and nights spent at Sunnyside.  The year our cul de sac formed a compound, we got creative when it came to maintaining community, and we had opportunities to step into the messy parts of friendship lifting up others when they couldn't find the strength to do it on their own.  

A Look Back in Pictures...

January and February were pretty uneventful....

And then March.  When everything changed...

April and May, when we learned how to "school" at home, which meant morning challenges to build collaboration skills, lots of hikes to explore our ecosystem, arts and "crafternoons", and getting creative with our celebrations.  

Home-School ended in May and we expanded our quarantine bubble to enjoy many outdoor adventures in the summer...

Then July and Jaxon's accident.  Calls to pray like never before, trips to Iowa City to sit outside the hospital, read scripture to Jess as she cried and then slept, and surrounding our friend with our own broken hearts as we sat there quiet under what felt like God's tears falling on our faces.  Never have I seen God's body rise up in such natural places to carry this family through.  In a dark year, this was a season of new light, new trust in God's mercy and power, and new understanding of what it means to do life the way he intended - together.  

August - a wonderful trip to South Dakota, some exciting baby news, and the hope of a new school year - in person, with face masks.

And the arrival of fall - one of the most beautiful in my memory...

Celebrating the holidays - a little different, but just as merry and bright.

Should I say it one more time?  What a year!  But such a blessing to be able to look back.  And I'm sure it's no accident that these pictures remind me that we had the prettiest fall, the most gorgeous early December sunsets, and the storybook late December snowfall - reminders that through it all, something much bigger is in the details.  Hoping to DELIGHT in Him and all he's up to in the new year to come.