At the start of 2020, I sat down and had a conversation with God about a theme for the coming year. I needed a goal so that I could steer my life in that direction. But at the end of the day, having exhausted the possibilities, the only word that would stick to me was “Be.”

Be.

Boring old Be.

I mean, seriously, what is a girl to do with Be? How does one pursue something that is essentially the opposite of pursuit? Be is something that simply is, so what was I to do?

I begged God for a different word—something tangible. Some task that I could measure. I gave Him the entirety of January to change His mind, but the word remained, along with the certainty that God was calling me to set my standard of productivity aside.

It was a big year for me, after all. I had just moved across the country, I had a brand new ring on my finger, and I was planning a wedding that summer. God knew I needed time to learn how to fit into my new role.

“You are in the process of Becoming,” He whispered to me on that late January day. “This is your chrysalis stage. And while it may appear stagnant, you will emerge a new creature. You are quietly growing wings.”

I griped about it for another six weeks, and then the world fell apart and I was suddenly grateful for my passive, boring little word.

(Seriously though, can you imagine if this had been the year I tried to pursue a life lived Together? Or chosen that moment to decide to chase the Horizon? I would have gone stark raving mad with a word that required action from me.)

Suddenly, Be was a beautiful thing. My little spot of sanity in a world gone mad.

Be.

Take a deep breath. Everything will work out fine. Less doing, more being.

The truth is, I let a lot of things fall by the wayside in 2020. I wrote very little. The ice rink shut down and I didn’t check on the conditions of its reopening. I quit my job and started over somewhere new. Somewhere slow paced enough to drive the old Rebekah mad, but to make the new Rebekah smile at its simplicity.

And that’s how I know that 2020 has been my most successful year yet. Because I’m not sitting at the end of it, running through a mental list of my failures. Because I no longer worship the gods of productivity.

A year ago today, I would not have thought it possible to state into an uncertain future without the slightest bit of apprehension. I would not have thought I could replace heartache with peace. And, though I have my days, I am here.

I am here.

Present in my life in a way I did not know was possible. Breathing in the moment without that flicker of hurry at the back of my mind. I am no longer racing through the motions of life; I am merely showing up for it.

And it is beautiful.

Life in all of its unscripted, unhurried glory is beautiful.

I’m glad I showed up for it, and I hope you will, too.