28.

Exactly a year has gone by since my last written musing, and while 365 days is quite a while, I will say that I have been consistent with a birthday blog since I was 19 — and for that I am proud. So, here is another one as a reflection on this year and an entry point into the next.

This year has been whimsical and a whirlwind, and in many ways, and I think that this is exactly how I was designed to live.

Almost exactly a year ago, I lost my corporate job and was thrust into a season of waiting and figuring things out and talking to everyone I possibly could, only to realize that this break in a set schedule — the first in probably 5 years — maybe wasn’t just a break, but an entire lifestyle repositioning.

It was, in many ways, a tough season. Living in New York with minimal income is not for the faint of heart, but even so, I was somehow confident that it would work out, that God had me where He needed me, and that the pruning of anything in life is the only way new and better things can grow.

In the midst of this, I was training for the marathon. My first ever and only a short while after the first race I had ever run. It was a grueling training season, and in many ways became a full time job in the absence of another. I spent months running the perimeter of the city, learning to appreciate my body for things I never knew it was capable of, and also realizing how much of running is really about your mind — not simply just your legs and lungs.

I often feel like I learn things across parallel tracks. As the job search dragged onwards, so did training. As I pushed past doubt and anxiety about my future, I pushed towards the finish line.

And all the while, endurance built. How to keep going when I didn’t want to. How to push past discomfort and continue on. How to store energy for when I needed it —emotional and physical.

At some point, I realized this season wasn’t just about waiting — it was about consecration. As Jon Tyson said once in a sermon that shook me to my core, “God won’t ever love you any less, but He will use you less.” Consecration is the process of allowing God to do the deep, quiet work that would make me ready for what was coming.

And then, nearing wits end but with a tank full of faith, I crossed the finish line. In that glorious November season, I finished the miles (thanks to all my cheerleader friends along the way, and an angel boyfriend who lovingly met me at 6 different mile markers), produced a short film (also born out of months of hard work), and started a new job with a film studio — all within a week.

Now, whenever I am on my way to a meeting in the middle of the day, on set in the early, ungodly hours of the morning, planning international travel for work, or attending film festivals across the country, I think about how my DNA was not designed for an office desk, and I’m reminded of God‘s faithfulness in allowing my life to be just so.

And as I lap around the sun this year, I am so grateful for the way my life has changed.

I’m a big word-of-the-year gal, and this year, clear as day, I heard the word “harvest”. As many things were sown last year, and the years prior, I remain convinced I will see the fruit of some of what was planted in the year to come.

Cheers to another spin around the sun and all the is to behold.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9