365 Days Later...

"Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?"

How does one measure a year? Well, for me, a year ago I decided to step out of my comfort zone and write this very blog. I did not know what to expect. I did not know how it was going to be received. I did not even know if I would have something to write about every single week. But I did it. (Granted, I know that for the last half of the year I did not put anything out there, but I was still coming up with things!)

I was consistent with something to the point where I had a specific seat in the house that all of my ideas would flow from, and I would sit there and write until it was ready to be posted. I could literally measure my state of mind depending on the blog I was writing and the message I needed for that week. It was very encouraging to receive so much love and support from y’all. I was even getting consistent pressure—in a good way—from people who wanted me to stay consistent. At the time, writing became both an outlet and a lifeline.

A lot has happened in a year, and when I sit back and think about it, I know that God’s hand was moving all throughout it.

A year ago, I was unemployed. There were no job prospects in sight. My unemployment benefits had ended back in November. I literally set aside Wednesdays to be job application days. And anytime I would get an email from whatever company I applied to, it would always be, “Thank you for taking the time to apply, but…” It was very, very discouraging.

However, I tried my best not to let that ruin my countenance. In fact, many people in my life did not know I had been without a job for almost a year because I was still cheerful and happy.

Little did people know that every day was a constant battle of trying not to cry.

A year ago, I was dealing with heartache over a connection I had believed was it for me. That definitely took a hit on my self-esteem, my self-confidence, and even my ability to be happy. I didn’t think I would ever be able to open my heart again to anyone. Let’s be real for a moment: when someone is part of your daily routine and then—boom—nothing, it can feel hard and strange. Suddenly, you’re in this space of blaming yourself over and over again.

A year ago, God was with me. Through it all, He was with me. When I did not want to talk to Him, He was with me. When I was yelling at Him, He was with me. And because God was with me, I made it through the past 365 days.

So, 365 days later…

I got a job!!!! I work as a substance abuse counselor for people who are detoxing from drugs and alcohol. When I first started, I was so nervous, and I did not think that I could encourage, support, or help people whose lived experiences were something I had never gone through. However, in those moments at the beginning of the year—when everything felt so bleak and I was literally living a life of silence—that’s when God was refining me and molding me for this job.

I realized that in this role, I get to be exactly who I am with my friends and family to these patients. I get to be kind, supportive, empathetic, and offer a listening ear. I get to remind them of their worth, their resilience, and their strength. In some moments, I have been able to pray with my patients and remind them of God’s goodness and faithfulness in their lives, even when it feels like He has abandoned them or doesn’t care for them. A year ago, my days were boring and predictable, and I was mostly talking to myself or the people in my house. Now, I never know what my day is going to look like, and I talk to so many different people every day.

In the last 365 days, I have come to truly appreciate my singleness in all its glory. I have learned so much about myself—what I like and don’t like. I have gained a deeper insight into what love is from the One who is love. And let me tell you, when you understand God’s love, you will never settle for anything less than that ever again.

I have come to appreciate the people in my life even more (than I normally do) and have been in awe of how God has shown me true love through them. I have learned to trust my intuition. I have learned to establish my boundaries early on and hold myself accountable to them first before expecting that from anyone else.

365 days later…

I am happy.

In this past year, I also got to witness so much joy around me. I watched friends I love step into marriage and new seasons of life. I went on my very first mission trip, and it brought me closer to God in ways I didn’t expect. It reminded me why I love to serve, why I love community, and why obedience matters even when it’s uncomfortable. All of these moments, big and small, were gentle reminders that happiness didn’t come from one thing, but from a life being filled again.

I’m not talking about the artificial happiness that we try to curate and sell to people, but a contentment that can only come from God. At the end of 2024, when I wrote a letter to my future 2025 self, all I asked God for was happiness—and He overdelivered. A year ago, I didn’t know if I was going to experience happiness, but all I could do was trust God to do it for me. I’m reminded of what Paul wrote in Philippians 4:11–13:

“ I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

When you have experienced the bottom of rock bottom, it can feel like there’s no way to overcome it. But God. Only God could be the one who, even in our seasons of wilderness and isolation, is preparing us when we don’t even realize it—so that we are ready for the role He has for us a year later.

The older I get, the more I understand why the adults in my life would always tell me to look to Jesus: “I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth” (Psalm 121).

I once heard an illustration rooted in animal behavior that showed mice endure far longer in difficult environments when they perceive light, direction, or the possibility of escape. No matter how big the box of darkness may be, as long as they see a light, they will keep climbing and climbing.

When I stopped focusing on my struggle and looked up, the climb didn’t disappear—but my perspective changed and gave me the endurance I needed. And 365 days later, I know this much: you always make it out, even when you don't know how you will.

So that begs the question: How do you measure a year?

Love always,

God's Most Talkative Child