reflections at the end of 2020.

2020 was quite a year, for all of us.

It may be safe to say that for years to come, it will be a year that will be remembered – the year that the world was halted in its tracks by a global pandemic and torn apart by political and social strife. It’s also a year that pretty much all of us are ready to be done with (myself included). But before it does, I can’t help but reflect on this last year and how life has changed for me personally. 

At the end of last year, I was a bit of a mess. I was discouraged, aimless, and, if I’m honest, depressed. I was dealing with a hard breakup; my life and ministry had grown stale and stagnant; and I felt like I was just stuck. So when 2020 began, I decided to go to the Lord and take inventory of my life.

As I did, two things became abundantly clear. The first was that for over a decade, I had felt a call to vocational ministry within a church – a calling that I was frankly not ready for when I first heard it, and was still not ready for even many years afterward. And to be honest, I probably still wasn’t ready at the beginning of the 2020. But it was clear to me that it was time for the detours and the delays to end; for me to step into what God had called me to years before. 

And the second was that it was time for me to leave. To leave my home, to leave my church, and to leave lifelong friends – for somewhere new and uncharted. It was a home I didn’t want to leave; a church that I loved and could see myself growing old in; friends who had become more like family.

A few years ago, I would have been ecstatic for an adventure into the unknown, heedless of all I was leaving behind. Not anymore. I had learned what it meant to belong to a place and to belong to others. And the idea of leaving had become hard.

But it was time for me to go.

About a month into 2020, I got a call from a pastor at a church in Elk Grove, CA, to talk about a position that had opened up there as the College & Young Adult Coordinator. I started my conversation with him almost totally uninterested in the position and the prospect of moving to the Elk Grove/Sacramento area. By the time I got off the phone 45 minutes later, I had the sneaking suspicion that God might be calling me there, against all my expectations and preconceived notions.

After a hiring process that started in February, then stopped in March with the onslaught of COVID, then resumed again months later, and finally resolved in July, I accepted the position to be the College & Young Adult Coordinator at Creekside Christian Church in Elk Grove, CA, and subsequently moved up to Sacramento at the end of August with a truckload of belongings, and just enough recklessness to convince myself I knew what I was getting into.

Since then, I’ve dealt with bed bugs, leading a new ministry, stepping into new and unforeseen roles, navigating ever changing guidelines and regulations, being forced to quarantine and flee my house when roommates got COVID, and trying to make sure my seminary classes were getting done in the middle of all of it. It’s been a crazy 4 months, where I have sometimes felt like a sojourner and exile in the strange lands of Elk Grove and Sacramento. 

But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Because I know that I’m exactly where God wants me to be. And there’s no better place than that.

2020 was a year that exposed a lot of the fears and doubts and frustrations of the people who lived through it. I’m not excluded from that. But 2020 was also where I experienced God’s providence and provision in new and profound ways. If you would have told me that I would be living in Sacramento at the beginning of this year as a college pastor, I probably would have scoffed at you. But on the other side of this year, I realize that God had been preparing me to be where I am now, doing what I am doing now. And He’s provided an abundance of people and resources along the way to help. I’ve been reminded this past year that we don’t always have the privilege of seeing where our paths will take us. But we do have the confidence that if we trust in Christ, they will always end up exactly where they’re supposed to. 

2020 was also a year of healing for me, and deeper measures of grace. I came into 2020 with a fair share of baggage, regret, and sadness. But I’m leaving 2020 with more perspective, more wisdom, and a deeper awareness of what it means to be forgiven and to forgive. That last part is especially important. Because if this year has shown me anything, it’s shown me how easy it is for me to live under the weight of my own shame, instead of upon the rock of God’s gracious forgiveness. And it’s shown me that the hardest person for me to forgive is myself. But I’m learning to. And I’m learning that I can stop believing that I must atone for all my mistakes – because ultimately, I know that I can’t. But, I can turn from shame and toward a sense of responsibility.  I can make sure others know that the power of grace is more real than the sting of condemnation. And I can remember that Christ will one day bring beauty from ashes and turns mourning to dancing, even as He is doing now. That’s enough for me.

I don’t know what 2021 holds. A lot of people are eager to get into the new year, because they figure that as horrible as 2020 was, whatever lies ahead in 2021 must be better. For my part, I think it will be. I’m excited for the pandemic to eventually end, for society to finally open back up, and to enjoy things like sitting in coffee shops, going to concerts, traveling to new places, and indoor church services again.

But I also don’t necessarily want to forget 2020 – this year of exile and sojourning, which has taught me so much. I don’t want to forget the ways I grew. I don’t want to forget the steps of faith I walked. And I don’t want to forget how I healed, and am healing. It’s worth remembering. 

And I’ll be sure to carry all of it into the new year, and leave the rest behind.

Sola Dei Gloria,
Andrew