The Senior Year That Carried On...

Our word changed with just a single headline. 

For 12+ years the highschool seniors of 2020 had been working for the moment when it would finally be "our year". And I know that many of you 2021 seniors can relate to this as well. Many of us spent years watching older siblings, cousins, role models, and friends graduate and longed for the day when it would be us up there. Personally, I recall in middle school talking with my best friend at the time all about the seniors we looked up to, planning how to make them feel special as they entered into the adult world, and spending HOURS dreaming of what could happen when it was finally "our year".

2020 was "our year". That was going to be the year it would finally be our turn. That was the year we'd finally get to make an impact on the places and people we would be leaving behind in highschool, be a grown up, experience life through the position of those we so looked up to when we were young, start the rest of our adult lives, and of course... walk that stage. The very thing my little heart would race with excitement and burn with longing every time I watched the "big kids" do it.

I worked for senior year. I prayed for senior year. I longed for senior year. I planned for senior year. I know it sounds so silly, but that year meant so much to me. During my 8th grade year, my friend (the one mentioned above) and I came up with an idea to write letters to some seniors we looked up to. The next year, I decided to personally continue that and write every senior in my "highschool" (I was homeschooled) a personalized letter, which later became a yearly tradition and then an online ministry. I've told some stories about it before, but that simple deed done for the seniors led to unique connections with them, and I saw many miraculous heart changes (including mine!) through it. Again, I know it sounds silly, but seniors have been my mission field since I was 13. So the moment when I would become one myself, and would write those final letters and get to walk that stage... My little mind could barely fathom it.

I spent year after year so invested in the seniors that when the fall of 2019 came and I finally was one myself... It didn't feel real. I took the senior photos, I had my last first day, we ordered my cap and gown, I attended all the meetings, I had my final Christmas production and started work on my final spring one, I began my last year of dance classes, I started working out all the post-grad plans, I started planning the grad party... But none of it felt real to me. It was like I had been so focused on everyone else going through their senior year that when it finally came to my own... I just didn't know how to process.

Well, second semester came. I turned 18, started getting SUPER excited about the dates that were all coming closer than I could believe...

And then came the headlines.

You all know what I'm talking about.

Instead of the bittersweet, eagerly anticipated "lasts" we were all expecting to come in second semester, we got about two months of "normal" before we were abruptly locked in our houses and faced with the grief of never getting to walk our halls again, talk to our teachers again, see some of our friends again, and of not having known that our last day before quarantine- a random day at the beginning of March- would end up being our last day at school ever, the day that we expected to have in May.

It was hard. It hurt BAD. Personally, I felt like a crazy person because for the first few weeks I would go from being angry, to weeping out of grief and hurt, to being numb, and then to being okay again all in the span of like 10 minutes. I can very easily say that in all of the talks, dreaming, and planning I did throughout my middle and highschool years, I NEVER would've thought of or wanted my senior year to go like it did. Nobody would've planned or wanted this, and that's what makes things like this so hard to take. 

It stinks. It just straight-up stinks. For everyone in every situation. 

We each have our own unique yet equally difficult story from 2020. This is my story, and my hope is that by sharing it, somebody else out there will be able to find hope in their own. The year that was "supposed" to be "my" year turned out absolutely nothing like I ever would've wanted or planned. I had already had a Junior year that ended up being the hardest year of my life, and quite frankly I barely remember any of 2019 because of it. I was facing grief from losing my grandma, PTSD from almost losing my dad only 5 months later, and a bunch of PTSD, stress, worry, and fear from a situation regarding someone else in my family walking through a really dark time. Because of all the chronic stress and worry, I literally started making myself sick against my knowledge. My stomach started having all of these issues, making it hard for me to eat anything without it leaving me in some form of pain or discomfort; my spine, neck, and shoulders were always in pain because of the tension I was carrying every day; sometimes it would be hard to breathe because I was constantly tense and stressed; dancing was getting difficult because of all of the physical pain; and all of that, in turn, made me even more worried, thus making it all even worse. I constantly had this cloud of worry in the back of my mind that something bad was going to happen, after all the bad that I had witnessed had happened over the past year. After awhile, the anxiety and physical difficulties got so bad that I actually considered quitting performing, something I have been doing for about 17 years and have loved since the very start. The cloud of worry was causing me to be unable to be present and give my best to every rehearsal and performance, and really to even just enjoy my life from day to day. I barely remember many of the performances I did, or experiences I had, during this time because I was so caught up in the cloud that it was like I wasn't even there. The worry started affecting my voice, too, the thing I knew I was called to use forever for God's glory, and I even considered quitting singing because it was physically starting to give out from the constant tension and stress. I nearly gave up on my faith, shut everyone I love out (including Jesus), and spent every day in a blur just going through the motions. Even my quiet times just felt rehearsed and plain. 

This was my 2019, and it carried into 2020. My life was slipping away but I barely even noticed. Every day just felt like the same thing, and I was desperately seeking a way out. I started praying for God to make this year a year of breakthrough, victory, and joy. I prayed for God to shift my heart and mindset, help me learn how to desire and seek Him again, teach me how to slow down, and for this to be a year of healing and peace. I didn't expect much to become of it, but I would pray those prayers every day while I went about my normal life. I made the plans for post-graduation, entered into adulthood, and continued to go through senior year pretty much the same as junior year... until we got those headlines...

Talk about a wake up call.

For the first three weeks of quarantine, I was not a pleasant person to be around. As previously mentioned, my emotions were EVERYWHERE, and I was NOT happy about how life was looking. My plans for post-graduation all got changed on me. I was out of work. My senior year both pretty much ended out of nowhere and got extended indefinitely at the same time. I was mad that so many people were dying, losing their dreams, losing their jobs, and getting sick. There was just so much happening, and so much that had already happened, and one night during that first week, my boyfriend called me because he could tell from my texts that I was in a dark place. He reminded me of the truths I knew, but I couldn't believe that I was actually having trouble saying I believed them at the time. I was in such a dark place that I didn't know if I even believed anything I knew I did anymore. 

At the end of that conversation, he challenged me to say that I did believe it all, and to never give up on it. He reminded me of all the times in the past that God HAS come through and proved real to me, and how so much of who I am is based in my faith. I couldn't just walk away from that. I knew he was right, and that's why I had been so numb and fearful the past year. I had let a flaming arrow of doubt get in through a hole cast in my shield of faith, and once in, it started burning me away. I started crying and reached my breaking point where I told him I just wanted to believe again so badly. This began a process of healing for me that I never knew I needed. 

I started inviting Jesus back in, and truly listening to what He was trying to say to me. I had absolutely nothing left to lean on except for Him. I literally had no idea what was going to happen next for the first time in my life, and the only thing I could do was talk with my Heavenly Father about it all. For the first time since I was 16, I started telling Him everything. Every disappointment, every fear, every longing, every worry, every doubt, every question... I told Him things I didn't even know I felt or thought, and finally reached a point of connection with Him that I had been praying for and longing for since the middle of my junior year. There's a sort of beauty that comes from pure surrender, and in the moment I reached it, everything began to heal. I would tell Him whenever I was scared, worried, angry, doubtful, stressed, lonely, confused, sad, and just about anything else you can think of. I started praying the hard prayers that He would convict me, show me where I needed to grow, become my longing (since all of my former longings were suddenly proven unable to be fulfilled), and so on and so forth. I started seeing Him answer in powerful ways, and began to find true peace, contentment, and light in the middle of the darkest time I could recall the world going through during my lifetime. 

It wasn't easy, and it certainly isn't even still... But as more and more of my plans and dreams began to be crushed before my eyes, I experienced something I had been deeply longing for more than anything for so long. As I wept with the world, and grieved my own loses along with it, I experienced the reality of Jesus truly caring and weeping with all of us as well, and that brought me more comfort than anything else could possibly have. 

My senior year went nothing like I dreamed. It wasn't anything I planned, and I certainly hope nobody else ever has to go through anything like 2020's plot-twists again... But though unexpected, unknown, and unwanted, God used this time to answer my prayers. If it weren't for the plot twists thrown in "my" year, I wouldn't have even felt like I was living throughout the whole thing- just like in 2019. I may have given up singing, dancing, acting, performing, writing, ministering, and reaching out to others (the very things I knew I was called to do) because I was so burnt out and so sick and so unaware that I needed to get to the roots of the old weeds before I could plant new seeds. I was under attack and didn't even realize it... 

...But God.

Two words that have begun to light up my face all the way to my eyes again. The world was dark and broken... but God still broke through. Nobody knew what was coming... but God knew what to do. 

It may sound crazy, but I am now so thankful for this unexpected and unwanted end to my childhood. And to elaborate a little more on the sickness struggles I mentioned earlier, I have not found full freedom from that yet. I still am on a road to healing, physically and mentally, and it isn't easy in the least. Physically, I've had to change my diet so many times, try out so many different treatments, and it still seems to pop up from time to time. Mentally, I've talked with SO many people for so long, just trying to heal from this PTSD and learn how to live my life again without worrying, but it still takes hold of me sometimes. Though I am MUCH better, and I praise God daily for it, I still do have my days where my physical and mental struggles seem overbearing, and I can't do much else besides lie down and talk with God. Those days are lessening as time goes on, my voice is returning to its full, I can dance again, my strength is returning, I can eat more things again with no trouble, and I believe with all of my heart that the full freedom that I seek WILL become my reality one day; but the affects of chronic stress on your body are no joke. It took me almost two years to get to where I found myself, and I'm trying to have patience with myself as I take longer than I'd like to get my full strength and light back again. However, that being said, this time of sickness and struggle has taught me so much about how to have compassion, and how to view God and others rightly and give my full heart to Him, and I am learning to thank Him for even the hard days (as much as I don't want to most of the time). Because really, He IS answering my prayers, even though it's taking longer than I'd like and it looks different from what I thought; and I am so thankful that God hears every prayer, sees every tear, and has a plan far greater than we could ever imagine for each and every one of us. 

We may never understand His ways, but they are always for our good. Even in the moments when they don't look how we think they should. He's always reaching out and offering a better plan. It's only up to us whether we will take His hand. Whatever you are facing, and whatever your story may be, I pray that you would carry on through every hour of uncertainty. I promise that He hears you, I promise that He's there. Though at times it may not feel like it, I promise you He cares. So lift your head up, weary friend, and believe that there's a way. Someday this nightmare soon will end, and you'll have something powerful to say. 

Whenever now I wonder if He's there or if He's gone... I hope I always will recall the senior year that carried on.