10 Takeaways from 2024
Lessons learned from the most formative year of my life.
The first week of January 2024, I was listening to a podcast about infrastructure (as one does) when the guest said something that—yes—was technically about sidewalks, but felt like it was about me. She said: “Humans are much better at loss aversion than we are at seeing the possibilities of new things.” Throughout 2024, this quote would prove to be a fitting companion for the journey I would go on: one of ups and downs, twists and turns, mundane and miraculous.
There were times that I thought the events of this year would destroy me. However, God did not write the story that way. As Isaiah 43 says, “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” To say that 2024 was the most formative year of my life would not be hyperbolic or overblown; it would just be true. God made a way. Some things ended, and some plans failed and some hopes did not come to pass. But so much else happened, too. Life and laughter, growth and goodness.
And so as 2024 comes to a close, I thought I’d share a list of 10 Takeaways that I’m carrying from this year into the next. Some are fun, most are serious, and all are born of a reflective side of my spirit that finds it extremely helpful to slow down and look back. What are your takeaways from 2024? I’d love to hear you share a few in the comments of this post, if you’d like.
1. A lavish lunch feels deliciously luxurious.
Back in April, while at a conference in NYC, I treated myself to a very nice lunch at an Italian spot a friend recommended called “Rezdôra.” I got the gnocco fritto, cacio e pepe in Emilia salad, and the Gramigna Giallo E Verde, all of which sent my bill quite a bit higher than my Midwestern sensibilities would normally indulge. However, this lavish lunch was one of my favorite and most special meals I’ve ever had. A few months later, I did a similar thing in San Francisco at a seafood spot called Scoma’s. As someone who grew up rarely going out to eat and still doesn’t go out to eat very much at all, it hs been fun to learn that I’m a person who would much rather spend my money on a trip on nice food than a nice hotel, nice cocktails, or nice clothes.
2. The sauna is a magic portal.
In my many months of not being able to exercise in 2024, I found myself really missing the feeling of sweating. Sure, a bit of a strange thing to miss I suppose. I soon found the magic of daily sauna sessions at my local gym, which were honestly a God-send. I worked up to 25 minutes, and now I see what the Swedes were getting at! There’s plenty of science out there about sauna-ing that I won’t get into, but if you’re a person who struggles with stress or isn’t great at relaxation, sauna proved to be a helpful thing to slow me down and help me get some relief in the harder months of winter.
3. Rest is imperative.
In 2024, I learned that listening to your body isn’t hokey; it’s important. After many months of pushing myself in 2023, 2024 was the year I was forced to slow down and rest. In 2024, I slept more than I ever have in my entire adult life, which was a good and needed change even though it meant I did much less with my days than I used to or sometimes wanted to. I learned a tremendous amount about my mind-body connection and made many changes that I think will be important as I get older. I incorporated a Sabbath practice into my week and found a tremendous amount of life in it.
4. Sometimes we are given more than we can handle.
In 2024, I’ve come to believe that sometimes we are given more than we can handle, and I don’t think God is to blame for it one way or another. But I also have experienced what happens when the water rises above our heads and what forms a life preserver can take. It’s in these moments when I felt closest to being overcome with my overwhelm that God intervened: with people, with peace, with a word of hope. The Bible says really is true when it says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2024 was a year that I became more aware of my own humanity, brokenness, and fragility, but it was also a year I became more aware and alive to the miracle of Immanuel — God with us.
5. Embarrassment is a choice.
I wrote about this one in my post “5 Things About Being a Beginner,” which was about learning the banjo. But let me let you in on a little secret: I think this point applies much further beyond the topic of developing a new skill or starting a new practice. In 2024, I had many firsthand experiences with the phenomenon of flopping, and I can also assure you that the embarrassment does subside. It is very easy to let shame follow us around day after day, so much so that our lives become devoid of risk, curiosity, and even hope. I do not believe we are meant to live this way. And so I’ve decided that I’d rather take risks, look like a fool, or be misunderstood than play it safe and stay stuck. As I move forward in life, I trying to give myself a little more grace and generosity when I don’t stick the landing. This quote from Martin Luther really captures the spirit of this sentiment better that I can:
“God receives none but those who are forsaken, restores health to none but those who are sick, gives sight to none but the blind, and life to none but the dead. He does not give saintliness to any but sinners, nor wisdom to any but fools. In short: He has mercy on none but the wretched and gives grace to none but those who are in disgrace.”
6. There’s no substitute for being together.
For 29 years, I was convinced that it was better to be able to function independently from others than it is to be humbled and helped by a dependence on others. But in the middle of my lowest points of 2024, I realized it was not good for (wo)man to be alone. I found myself craving time to be with others, particularly family and college friends. One week, I worked from my brother’s house in Pittsburgh, eating lunch with my sister-in-law and watching Mighty Ducks with their kids after dinner. Another weekend, I drove to Columbus to sit in the living room of my college friend Emily’s house while her three young boys scurried around us without shirts (and sometimes underwear) on. In the summer, I drove to New York to be with two more college friends and we stayed up late talking about life and memories and how things haven’t turned out how we hoped but that God is redeeming it all anyways.
In all of this, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders to be helped and heard and taken care of. It was a gift from the Lord to be reminded that I am not alone, that the voice in my head isn’t always the best or most truthful companion. To be reminded that while I spend many hours alone in this current version of life, he invites me to make space for others to come in and redeem the time together.
7. Time helps.
I do not think I believe that time heals all wounds, but I do believe that time helps. One of the most challenging things I went through this year was deciding to leave the church I had attended for 6 years. While the process of deciding to leave and having conversations with my friends and leaders there was really hard, I am glad I took the time that I did (many months) to go through that process. In my early twenties, I can think of countless times when I was simply fed up with something and just decided to rip the bandaid off and move on as quickly as possible so that I “didn’t have to deal with it anymore.” This was and is a hurtful habit to not only myself but other people, too. It is not lost on me that that the injury I had this year took a very long time to heal as well, and forced me to learn—in my body—that time is necessary, and healing cannot be rushed. My body is not the same as before my injury, but time has helped. Patience is hard, but I continue to see the value in asking God for it, and trusting him when he gives me opportunities to practice it.
8. Sitting the bench is a gift.
In a conversation over the summer, my spiritual director Elizabeth had me do an exercise where I was to imagine Jesus in an everyday encounter. What came to my mind was the image of me running around on a soccer field when a whistle a blew to call me back to the bench. Next, Jesus came from the sidelines to take my place in the game. My initial embarrassment to be taken out of the game was met with relief as my tired legs took a rest, and I watched Jesus move across the field with ease and strength. “To sit the bench is to have a moment to catch my breath, and in that moment, let you breathe your life into me,” I wrote in my journal, followed by this prayer, “Help me to receive the gift of sitting the bench.”
I am getting older and must admit that at times, I’ve felt like I am sitting on the bench. Around me others are playing the game I once thought I might play, too. Marriage and motherhood and “I’ve never known a love like this.” Well, I’ve never known a love like that, and sometimes, (usually when I have the Sunday Scaries) I wonder if I ever will. But a few months ago, I heard a sermon where the pastor said “One of the greatest giftings we have is our availability.” 2024 has been a year when I have been able to be available with my time to friends with little kids and with my money and with the freedom to see possibilities in every ordinary experience. I guess God answered my prayer because I see now that sitting the bench from goals I had and life stages I thought I’d be in has opened up opportunities to heal and to help.
9. The playbook for life doesn’t exist.
A companion lesson to #7 is #8 which I wrote a few months ago seemingly randomly in my Notes app: “2024 has been the year I found out the playbook doesn’t exist.” As I turned 30 this year, I can say that I am growing more comfortable and confident with my life not following the script and presumed plot that I thought it might. While this year certainly had its fair share of unforeseen disappointments and challenges, I can cheerfully say that it was one of the most formative, enriching, and ultimately encouraging years of my life. I have truly experienced what the Psalmist writes about in Psalm 31: “I will rejoice and be glad in your faithful love because you have seen my affliction…You have set my feet in a spacious place.” While 2024 didn’t follow the playbook I thought it would, in retrospect, I am glad. This year gave me time and space to spend with loved ones, do work that restored health to my body and spirit, and find fresh beginnings at the start of my thirties. I can and do rejoice in the work God has done and will continue to do.
10. God is full of surprises.
There were many things that happened this year that I did not see coming. Some were good surprises and some were very, very hard. Some have passed and some we are in the middle of. My sister-in-law has breast cancer and we wait for pathology to tell us if she will need chemo. Close friends of mine wait for future plans to pan out and for pills to work and for job applications to turn into job offers. My beloved dog has developed bad arthritis and sometimes I wonder if I can stand the pain that comes with being a present adult in a broken world.
And.
And I get to watch my mom make my 5-month-old nephew giggle and my niece and I brush our teeth together every morning when I am visiting her in California and I love being delighted when a friend sends me a text out of the blue to a video that is just my sense of humor. And I am signed up for culinary school in Ireland where I get to live for 5 weeks in the summer while learning to cook and I am feeling excited to write more letters in 2025 and make French Onion soup and go for walks in the snow.
A life in Christ is full of surprises: of grief and grace and trials and triumphs. Some things in my life are not what I hoped they’d be and sometimes I shake my head in happy disbelief at the goodness of God. And so as one year ends and a new one begins, I want to close with Paul’s parting prayer to the Ephesians:
“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. 20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
Amen, friends. As 2024 ends and 2025 begins, I hope that you are invigorated by the hope that God is always doing new things: in me, in you, in places you’ve been and places you haven’t gone to yet. May God bless your 2025.
In faith,
Grace
I loved this thoughtful reflection and thought #8 was especially poignant!
This. This was so good. I admire you so.