On this, the last day of my 37th year, I’m gathering together a list of all of the albums that I’ve listened to over and over again in the last year. I’ve listened to lots of music over the last year, but this is what has stuck with me and climbed into my heart, marking important lessons, changes, and seasons. Everyone one of these albums is tied to such a feeling of gratitude.

In no particular order, my 37th year playlist:

When We All Fall Asleep – Billie Eilish

The Weatherman – Gregory Alan Isakov

Words I Never Said – Ella Vos

Lemonade – Beyonce

Phase – Jack Garratt

Shake the Spirit – Elle King

Delta – Mumford & Sons

Cuz I Love You – Lizzo

Vide Noir – Lord Huron

Lover – Taylor Swift

Awaken, My Love – Childish Gambino

A Moment Apart – Odesza

Everything is Love – The Carters

Pink Moon – Nick Drake

III – The Lumineers

And I’m never not listening to:

The Head and the Heart

and everything by Jay-Z

On Monday I was named Chief Operating Officer of Proximity! I’m so excited that I’m part of a company that values people and relationships above everything. That I am entrusted with the day-to-day operations of Proximity is such an honor and I am ready and excited for the challenge. My gratitude for this team of extraordinary people (29 and counting!) is immeasurable and I am so thankful that each and every one of them is a part of my life.

This life I’m living is such a gift and I never, ever stop being in awe of it. Life is hard and good and beautiful and exhausting and thrilling and everything in between and I am so very, very grateful.

One year ago today I got divorced. I had to look up which day it was which I think is a pretty telling sign of how much I’ve healed. I don’t even think about my past life or husband and sometimes someone will mention something about Jim and it shocks me… oh yeah, I was married.

This last year hasn’t looked anything like I expected it to. I generally liked my life before and was wanting so badly to get back what I lost that I thought God would just fix that for me and I could get back on track right away with a replacement husband. I thought I’d immediately start dating someone who would turn into my future husband and life would just be easy and wonderful and I could pick up where I left off 4 years ago. Instead God had some things to teach me and over these last months he’s gently been telling me that I can’t just get back what I lost… that I have to start looking and believing for something new. Something that will shock me a little.

I always joke with my friends that I’m living my life backwards. I got married and had kids, THEN I was single, started dating and had roommates. Dating and being single in general has been such an interesting experience for me because it’s something I’d never done before… also because nearly every one of my friends is not in this life stage with me. I’m the only one and I’m pretty sure I provide lots of entertainment for them. Over this last year I’ve gone out with lots of dudes, some of them pretty wonderful and lots of them not-so pretty wonderful. Entertaining IS a good word to describe it. But now I have such a clear picture of exactly what I want. I’ve been surprised by things that I never knew I wanted, things that I now know I can’t live without…so much so that it kind of scares me that I’ll never be able to have it.

Trust has been, as always, the cornerstone of my existence. Any time that I start to find myself in a downward spiral, I realize that I’m not trusting the plan that God has for me. Now more than ever, I realize that I have NO CLUE what the next year will look like. What will I be writing a year from now? It could be ANYTHING. I see how good this uncertainty has been for me. I’m the one who always has to know the plan, and see twelve steps ahead. And I don’t get to do that right now. And that’s exactly what I need.

Over this last year I’ve developed some really deep friendships. Even though I was married for 12 years, I never knew true intimacy. Through these friendships I’ve learned intimacy. I’ve learned to lay myself wide open and let people see all the scary corners of me. I’ve learned to take risks in safe relationships and let myself be known. And I’ve learned how to seek that same openness in others. I’ve allowed myself to depend on community without the all-consuming need that could never be filled. (That’s because everything I really need is within me.)

Being a single parent is still something that I forget that I am. And the really weird thing is that even Jim isn’t a single parent. I would have never thought he would be the first one to be un-single. When things get hard my friends have to remind me, yes, you’re a single parent… this should be hard. But the kids and I are finding our ways though and overall things work pretty smoothly and everyone is doing pretty well.

This year hasn’t been without pain and the consequential lessons that come from pain, but it’s been nothing like the years prior. There is a rich thread of hope that weaves it’s way through every day of my life that wasn’t there before. And there is this deep seated knowledge of who I am and what I can do that gives me such comfort and peace. Pain is always necessary for change and learning and I now welcome it (mostly anyway).

This year also hasn’t been without great joy, a multitude of shining moments that I will always treasure. Mostly because I have come into my true self so wholly. Life is open to me in ways it’s never been and I just gobble it up with a voracity that can’t be quenched. I just want to live more and more life and it has been so amazing to be able to do it, on my terms, whenever I want!

What I know is that this last year has been so full. There’s only been a small handful of hard moments compared to the dump truck of good ones. I continue to be surprised over and over again at the path my life has taken and just how GOOD it is. I went into this with eyes wide open, ready for whatever came and it’s all been so amazing. I’ve learned to embrace the seasons of my life, knowing that they will be fleeting, never to be had again. I’ve learned to embrace pain and the lessons it brings as well as treasure every good moment. It feels so cheesy to say that I’ve had a second chance at life, but I really have. Life is new to me in every way and I couldn’t feel more like God knows exactly what he’s doing with me. And that is such a relief!

Who knows what will happen next, but I’m excited for what that might be…

I woke up on my 31st birthday in Cimarron. What a place to wake up in on your birthday! Brian got the whole staff and the whole YWAM staff to sing to me at breakfast and after we finished our morning session, we all packed up and headed home. I hadn’t had service up in Cimarron for a couple of days, so as we came off the mountain, my phone started blowing up with voicemails and texts and Facebook messages… nothing makes me feel more loved than being remembered on my birthday. We stopped in Montrose on our way home for coffee and wandered around Main Street for a couple minutes before heading home.

As soon as I got home I started cooking. I had 4 hours to make dinner for 50 people and get the rest of my house in order. Thankfully Rickelle and Brian came over to help me pull it all together and I got three soups and a giant salad made just in time for my friends to start arriving. I put several tables end to end in my back yard with white table cloths and served the soups in the kitchen buffet style.

Soup is one of my very favorite meals so I almost always have it for my birthday. This year I made Chicken Posole, Broccoli Corn Chowder with Bacon, and Artichoke Sausage Soup. I asked everyone to either bring bread or wine and we had some delicious selections of both.

I had 28 adults and 18 kids in my backyard to celebrate my birthday that night and it was just perfect. I had so much fun catching up with friends I hadn’t seen in awhile and connecting to new friends too. Thanks to Lisa for taking all the photos!

a small selection of the kiddos that were there!

Brooke is SO beautiful.

Kev & Sarah

My Collection of Anthropologie plates

reading my cards by candlelight

packed backyard

Soup buffet

I think that we can safely say that I’ve solidly entered the dating phase of my journey. Gosh, it’s terribly fun… so this is what I missed out on by getting married at 18 and skipping college.

I had a realization last night while on a date. We were talking about what it’s like to be alone and what we wanted and I couldn’t really even list something that I want. What do I want my life to look like? Umm…exactly like it looks. My therapist’s goal for me was to get to the point where I didn’t need… I didn’t need a person or people to make me complete. I didn’t ever really believe that I would get to that point because the need inside me felt so desperate and huge. But I’m here… not sure how, but definitely here. Recently I had a guy offer, “What do you want from me?” and I couldn’t think of one thing to ask for. I don’t need anything.

I think there is this sense where none of us are islands… that in a way we all need each other… that’s kind of the point of being here – to live in community, to share life with those around us. We need people to make it through life. But there’s also this sense that if we so desperately need one person to ensure our survival, we are in humongous trouble. Because that person can always leave and your survival is no longer in your hands but in his. What an awesome responsibility to put on someone else…

Last night we were talking about wanting to have someone to take care of us and I realized that as much as I have longed to be taken care of (and never really have in the way I’ve wanted), knowing that I can (and do) take care of myself is so much more comforting than having someone else to do it for me.

I’m sure the dating phase won’t last forever. I’m sure eventually I will find someone that I don’t want to live without, but I’m not really looking ahead anymore. I don’t long anymore for the next phase. Instead I’m just reveling in where I am. Soaking it up and enjoying every moment of it because this will be the only time in my life I get this chance and I don’t want to ruin it by wishing for what’s next.

Thankful. <3

In child birth classes they try to teach you to work with the contractions, to embrace them and let them wash over you. All I remember from child birth was fighting that pain tooth and nail, bracing myself against the hospital bed as each contraction came. All I remember from the majority of my life is fighting the pain tooth and nail too.

The week Jim told me he wanted to leave was horrible. The shock, the fear, the rejection, the pain. I remember holding all of those huge feelings at arms length for fear that I would sink so far into them that I wouldn’t be able to get back out. I was so, so afraid of feeling what his leaving me meant. It wasn’t until I started therapy, two years later, that I learned to work with the pain, to let it wash all over me and to feel everything. (And dammit, once I decided I was going to feel, I determined to feel the shit out of every single feeling that came.) It’s amazing how once you decide that you’re not going to fight the pain anymore, you start to heal so much faster. I lived with this festering wound for years and as soon as I decided to face it, it immediately started healing. (Now there’s barely a scar. It’s amazing how these memories are getting blurry with distance and healing.)

Here’s the thing about pain: It’s not like fear which is completely irrational and without any value whatsoever. Pain has a purpose. I believe it to be one of life’s greatest teachers and I think that’s why God doesn’t much care if we are in pain or not, because he 1. knows we can handle it and 2. knows that it is his very best tool. Actually I think that God hates seeing us in pain, but he allows and even welcomes it in our lives because he knows that sparing us the pain would rob us of the lessons pain brings.

The only way I could have gotten here – so happy and alive and whole – is because of the pain. There was no other way to learn these lessons. I had to feel it, see it, accept it and embrace it. And it was so, SO worth it.

Today marks one year since Jim moved out. In so many ways I can’t even imagine him living here anymore. I can’t imagine being married to him. I can’t believe how much my heart has healed in these last three hundred and sixty five days. Earlier this week I went out to sushi with Jim… And the Children… And his girlfriend. My friends think that I’m a little bit crazy, but it just feels so normal, like we’re just this big, crazy family. There isn’t even a twinge of pain seeing him with someone else. I just hope they love each other well.

I think back on the last year of my life and I think that it will go down as one of the most significant in my life. The changes in me are hard to list, there are just so many. There were holes in me that I never thought would be filled and now I can’t really even remember where they were. I am so whole. So healed. So complete. So happy. If only I’d known that the temporary pain of facing, accepting and loving myself would bring so much healing… I’d have done it a lot sooner. And yet, I can’t really even regret anything that I’ve been through. I look at the last year and see how it has been orchestrated in such an amazing way. The timing of how everything went down is just amazing to me. The lessons I learn come at such perfect times and I am always in awe at how loved I am. I know that God is real because the way he healed me is nothing short of a miracle.

I continue to be so thankful for all the gifts I’ve been given. For the people that banded around me when I needed them (and who are there if ever I need them again). I’m thankful that I’ve come through something so terrible and amazing and now I get to share what it’s done to me (and that in sharing it, I am changed again and again – way more than the people who I’m sharing with). I’m thankful that the only way I could get through this was to look at myself and change. That, even though it was painful, it was easier to forgive than to hold a grudge. I’m thankful that even though I did everything in my power to save my marriage, I get the gift of a second chance. I’m thankful that I now know how to work though heartache and pain and rejection and confusion.

There is something about pain that causes us to live right on the edge of grace, where everything we feel is so vivid, brilliant and real. I think that we are the most pliable when we are there on that edge because everything is at stake and God can truly have his way with us. We aren’t in any position to play games because all we can do is hang on, clinging to what we know to be true. I never want to be so comfortable that I don’t skate that edge. I never want to forget what has happened to me and how I was rescued. When I feel lonely or impatient or worried I want to remember the amazing plan for my life, that we all have a measure of grace to get us through and that I can live through (not just survive) anything because I’ve already lived through my greatest fears.

A year ago I would never have thought I’d be here. By that point I knew I would be ok, but I didn’t know I would be amazing. I didn’t know that the product of my life falling apart could be so good. I put my life in God’s hands and he saved me so completely. And I am so thankful.

Changes in me always happen in giant leaps rather than gradually. I’m always surprised to wake up one day and find that my life (inside my head) is completely different than it was the night before. Not that those changes happen magically, they always come with a lot of work, but it always amazes me to see them happen so dramatically.

Several weeks ago I checked in on one of my favorite blogs and discovered that the authors marriage was falling apart. Reading about her family falling apart was such a trigger that I had to promise myself I wouldn’t continue to read her blog. I was up at 3am that next morning trying to figure out why reading this was so devastating.

I think there are many reasons: I have been reading about her family for a long time and care about them deeply. She is a great author so her words captured those emotions that I felt for so many years – the sorrow, pain, heartache and gnawing emptiness. And I think it served to teach me a lesson that I was having a hard time learning.

I think God always gently whispers lessons to me and then, when I don’t listen, he smacks me upside the head with them. He has been telling me to embrace the season that I’m in and not look for the season ahead. He’s been telling me that I just don’t get to replace Jim, plugging someone else into the spot he once filled. And now I know why.

I can’t ever go through a failed marriage again. I can’t ever put my kids through a torn up family again. I just can’t do it. Not much scares me anymore, but that does. Reading about someone else’s marriage failing made me actually see that. There is a lot that I miss about the constancy of marriage, but I’m just not ready for it yet. This season of my life isn’t find-a-replacement-husband-season, it’s having-fun-dating-having-roomates-party-at-my-house-all-the-time-season. And if I stop to think about it, I am loving it! I have had more fun, laughed more, lived more than I ever have before. I’m the happiest I have ever been. Two years ago I certainly never thought I would be here.

While I think we’ve all looked ahead to what the future could look like for me, hoping that there will be redemption for what I’ve been through, it’s just not that time. Laying in bed that night at 3am, I realized this. I realized that I am completely content with what I have and completely content to trust God that my future will be amazing. And that feels SO good.

Today I am abundantly thankful for our ability to change. (Thanks Carrie for giving my thankfulness words today.) I’m so thankful for the desire to live a better life, to be a better person. I’m thankful that God created us to grow, learn, change, adapt – that where we find ourselves today can always be different tomorrow.

Last Thanksgiving I had scheduled an appointment with a therapist and was so hopeful for the change that I knew therapy would bring about. The changes that happened were entirely different than the ones I expected to happen, but I think that was part of the lesson I’ve had to learn: patience and learning to let go of expectations.

Five years ago yesterday my life completely changed, I just didn’t know yet. I was driving home through the mountains scared, hurt and totally drained. I’d gone over to the front range to try and help a family member, and everything fell apart (including me). I remember driving as fast as I could to get home because with my family was the only place I knew I was safe. Little did I know someone was making a choice in that very moment that would set the course for the rest of my life.

The day before Thanksgiving will always be a bit of a sad memory for me. But also a memory I will always cling to. Because I know that I lived through that day. I know that I lived through the choices made that day and the events that were set into motion as a result. I know that I can change. I know that whatever crisis may come in my life (whether real or self-inflicted) I can make it through. Therapy gave me the skills to make it through. God gave me the strength and the ability.

I am so thankful that I made it here, eyes wide open, ready to change and learn and grow.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how through this journey I’ve learned what faith really is. When I was in that place of not knowing if my husband would stay or go I finally learned that the only way I could survive that uncertainty was to completely surrender. Anyone who knows me knows that I am bossy and that I like to be in control, so giving up control over my marriage, the most important relationship to me in the world, was about the hardest thing anyone could ever ask me to do. But that was the only way. And when I finally learned how to let go, completely let go, and take blind steps forward – that’s when life opened up to me. That moment of giving up, of saying, “Ok, God, you can do what you want with me. Wherever you take me is where I’m going. I’m going to stop questioning you and I’m going to start believing that you know better than me.” – that moment was when it all changed. Accepting that is the only reason I am here today.

What I’m realizing is that getting divorced wasn’t the end of my journey in faith. I still have no idea of what my life is going to look like. I have no idea of what God has planned for me. I still have to keep taking those blind steps forward and put all my trust in him. Because he still knows better than me. And I’m seeing that I’m going to have to live the rest of my life this way. I would so much rather have control. I’d rather have a plan that I can take step by step, crossing off each milestone with a sharpie. But if I want it to be really good, I have to choose the unknown. I have to lay my heart in his hands and see what he does with me. Faith isn’t just going to be something that got me through a horrible time of my life, it’s going to have to be my oxygen. If I want to live something truly remarkable, faith is going to have to be the new way I do life.

I think life is always going to be a little scary, because it doesn’t fit into a 5 point plan. It’s always going to be about risking just enough because without risk, we never get a chance to have something amazing. And for me it’s always going to be about placing one foot in front of the other, trusting that God knows what he’s doing with me even if I have no idea what that is.