Goodbye 23!

Twenty-three was an amazing year.

Yes, it began with Grandpa dying.

And the next morning, I sat in "our" coffeeshop in Annapolis, the one where that manly hero of mine had told me he was "100% certain" God wanted him to pursue a relationship back in September.

And the strains of I'll be home for Christmas snuck through the speakers, into my heart, and tears formed, knowing Grandpa was really Home that Christmas.

And my best friend reached across the table and held my hand for one of the first times. (AHHHHH!)

There were other challenges. Like witnessing almost firsthand a tragedy in our neighborhood when a girl I almost might have babysat that afternoon drowned in a swimming pool. And the wonderings and the fears running down those local streets those first few days. 

And there were personal struggles, sometimes deeper than I like to recall.

But there was healing. It came slowly, but I remember lying in the grass behind the hero man's railroad town home, telling him things were getting better. I think because we had been reading scripture together.

And there was counsel. Good counsel, from good friends. Strong counsel, rooted in the Gospel. A rugged, jean-wearing pastor from the homeland. And the one I metroed over and back to meet with, soul trembling at times, alongside my Aaron. And the old pastor and his wife, the talking with her, in a city park, crying, desperate--the arriving at their doorstep and sobbing afresh at the Gospel and questioning and seeking and being given "all kinds of hope."

And then there were the innumerable blessings that I don't know how to describe sufficiently. I sincerely doubt that in earthly life events, many other years will come close to this one. Getting engaged. Leaving one job to pursue a different vocation. Marrying my best friend. Moving to another state. Traveling to Europe. Conceiving our very first baby. All in a year's time (less, really).

"The Lord hath been mindful is truly our refrain."