Years and years ago, Jen Fulwiler created her "Word of the Year" generator. Back in the heyday of blogging, the revealed word could result in a good couple posts' worth of fodder. I would always forget my word by June, and had stopped looking for ways to involve it in my life by March, but hope sprang eternal, and for years I dutifully clicked the "Show Me My Word!" button with a prayer and tightly closed eyes.
In the spirit of nostalgia and a hope for a new age of blogging, I took a quiet moment two days ago to see what my word for 2021 would be. As if we aren't pinning enough expectations on The Year That Is Not 2020, I thought I'd add one more.
No kidding, that's what I got. I audibly chuckled when I opened my eyes to see what word was revealed.
There's been a lot of hard, deep soulwork going on here since the end of the year. God's been offering me a number of invitations to heal and return to myself and grow into the person He made me to be. So far, it's entailed facing down some pretty pernicious demons and bad habits*
So seeing that word in giant letters fill up my screen, well, that was a very nice confirmation that the things I've felt stirring in my life and imagination are taking me down the right path.
Anyway, that's the word of the year. Revive.
Have you gotten a Word of the Year? Let me know in the comments what it is. I love being reminded of how many strong, hopeful words there are in the English language and seeing how our smart, pattern-hungry brains hook those words onto our experiences.
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* example: I have always rolled my eyes and snorted at any mention of the word "self-care". In my pride, it always smacked of self-indulgence and weakness and vanity. A few weeks ago, I felt the invitation to take a bath- A BATH OF ALL THINGS!- press onto my heart. Now let me be clear- I am NOT a bath person. I call them "human crock pots". They smack of laziness and indulgence. So how, WHY would God be asking me to take the time for myself and draw a bath? Wasn't that just the height of people making God into a god to suit their own wants? But still, the urge remained, gently and persistent. Finally, I gave in. I took a dang bath.
Without peering too much behind the shower curtain, so to speak, that bath was transformative. With 20 minutes, a tub of water, and a couple handfuls of dried sage and camomile flowers I'd saved from the gardens, I felt supported and treasured by God in a way I hadn't allowed myself to be in....I don't know. A long time. I realized that I'd been asking Christ to heal me and help me grow closer to Him, but had kept my heart locked up tightly against anything tender and gentle He offered me. I came out of that bath softer and more gentle with those around me. A lot of hard, angry baggage I'd been stubbornly toting around circled the drain and slipped off down to my tile fields. A bath. Isn't God something? To melt the prideful heart of a stubborn mule not with the harsh and cruel life lessons I thought I deserved, but in a tub of water and 20 minutes of floating.
I have been there, too. My husband and I refer to it as the Scruples Years. We were trying to be something we were never meant to be not realizing at the time we were causing ourselves more harm than good. My word is Bloom. I have always struggled with blooming fully so I’m really working on that this year.
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