Each year, a friend of mine writes a Christmas letter reflecting on the past and what's to come. I liked the idea, so here's my first annual Christmas letter:
The Anxiety of Christmas Past
A year ago, where was I? I feel this has been a recurring theme in my life for many months, always comparing and contrasting where I was and who I was a year prior.
A lot has stayed the same. I live in the same comfortable house in Southern California that I've lived in since I was five with my massive bear of a dog and crazy nut-job of a family. I still write and direct plays at the local high school. I still put my shoes on the wrong feet sometimes. I still wind dry my hair, though now I do it by rolling down the windows of my car instead of just biking fast. I still chew on my lips when I'm anxious. In fact, I'm biting them right now just as my anxieties still bite at me.
I've learned a lot in the past year though. Leading students is an incredible challenge, but it is also incredibly rewarding. The director I was a year ago is not the director I am today, and the director I am today is not the director I will be tomorrow. My students force me to continue to learn and grow every single day.
A Prayer for Christmas Present
At this very moment in my life, I am very much in the in between. I have been unsure of what on earth I'm going to do with my life for a very long time. I've been leaping from idea to idea, finding all sorts of things I enjoy but never quite finding the one thing which excites every inch of me. I'd nearly resigned to the nonexistence of that "one thing," until very recently when the idea of working in the church crept into my mind. I don't know right now if this is the "one thing"— it feels like is just might be— but I think I'm okay with not knowing just yet. Living in the present has been a challenge for me because I always seem to be either stuck dwelling on the past or lost in dreams of the future, so I'm making an effort to just let whatever is meant to happen happen. The church feels more right every day, but if the church has taught me anything these past few months, it is to have faith and let go of anxiety, whether over the past or the future.
"What has been done has been done; what has not been done has not been done. Let it be." — an excerpt from an evening prayer in the New Zealand Book of Prayer.
Faith in Christmas Future
As I reflect on the past, I must also look to the future: where I want to be and who I want to be. It seems I have had trouble figuring this out for a long time, though I have always put on a sure face. A sure face so convincing (to myself at least), that I forgot that I had no idea where I was going or who I wanted to be. This year, I don't want to live in fear of the unknown. This year, I'd like to put on an unsure face for a change and smile. I have questions, countless questions!, but the anxiety and the restlessness and the fear are unnecessary. I want to have faith this year.
Who am I?
Why am I?
Am I living the life I'm meant to lead?
Should I go?
Should I stay?
Which way do I turn?
Who do I trust?
Should I leap?
Should I wait?
If I take risks, will I be rewarded?
Or will I end up hurt?
If I jump, will I fly?
Or will I fall?
How am I supposed to answer all of these questions?
This year, I plan to have faith.
P. S. My EP (The Winter EP by Elizabeth Thraen) was just released yesterday. Let me know if you'd like one! They're 100% free!
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