The In Between

I started a new job in late August. The commute takes me within a “stone’s throw” of my first apartment in the Minneapolis area. I lived there 20 years ago during my first year out of college. Two decades have passed since then, yet time and time again this fall as I drove those familiar roads, I found myself transported back to that first year I spent in Minnesota. I can vividly remember all of the tears I shed and pain I mucked through in that little apartment. It was awful. It was the hardest year.

I was incredibly lonely. College had been wonderful. Not only did I thoroughly enjoy my classes and my major, I had an amazing group of friends and roommates. During college, I lived in a house with 26 other women. They were all agriculture majors like I was and most also shared my farm girl background. I loved that house. There was always activity, laughter, and fun. When I moved to the Minneapolis area, I failed to realize the huge gap that would be left in my life without all of those great women. I quickly realized how quiet and isolating it is to live by yourself, especially in a city where you know very few people.

I was heartbroken. The night before my very last college final, my relationship with a guy I deeply loved abruptly ended. He was one of my closest friends and we had dated on again and off again for 5 years, but this time it was truly over. There would be no “on again” and the future that I had envisioned with him vanished. I was completely devastated and my crushed heart hurt so badly that I actually physically ached at times. It was difficult to fathom how I would ever move forward.

And finally, the job I had moved to Minneapolis for was insanely hard and intense. It was fast paced and cutthroat and there was a huge learning curve. Just those factors alone would have been a big adjustment for the naïve girl just getting her feet wet in Corporate America, but unfortunately, the situation I walked into was also extremely toxic. Today, at 43, I would have the maturity and experience to identify the unhealthy and unrealistic expectations attached to that job. I would realize that my manager was most likely experiencing some difficult personal issues that were spilling over into his work life. I would understand that the ethical lines I was being asked to cross were unacceptable. But at 23, I was just too young and inexperienced to see these realities. Type A, perfectionist, people pleasing me was determined to somehow be successful in this impossible situation. I lived in constant fear of my manager and his verbal beat downs. My anxiety levels went through the roof. I could not relax. I seldom slept well. There was a constant knot in the pit of my stomach. My weight started to erratically jump up and down because I would oscillate between stress eating too much and not eating at all. My skin broke out like I was a 13 year old teenager and I usually looked tired and ragged. I had never really failed at anything before, but I was in danger of failing at this job. It terrified me and started to cost me my health.

I knew I was not in a good place, but I felt attacked from all sides and was at a loss for what to do next. There were so many nights that I just collapsed on my couch after work as silent tears streamed down my face. There was just so much pain and fear.

A bright spot that year was hanging out with my cousin, Steve, and his friends. I knew very few people in Minneapolis and Steve and his group of guy friends graciously let me tag along to their dinners out and movie nights. They nicknamed me “Cousin Amy” and I suddenly felt like I had a group of older brothers looking out for me.

They were all solid Christian men. They were involved in their churches, took part in Bible studies, and prayed regularly. Their faith was the central part of their lives and they all seemed to have such a peace and confidence. Peace and confidence were scarce in my life that year so I was fascinated. I followed suit and joined a Bible study of my own. I felt completely awkward and out of place. I knew I was a Christian. I had asked Jesus to be my Savior at the age of 5, but other than being required to read the Gospel of Matthew during confirmation class, I had never spent time studying my Bible. I was in awe of the Bible knowledge that the people in my study possessed and how comfortable they were praying out loud in a group. I prayed regularly, but never out loud or in front of others. It was definitely outside my comfort zone and I quickly realized that even though I had spent 18 years of my life as a Christian, I was largely clueless as to the Bible’s content. Thankfully, the people I met in that first 6 week Bible study welcomed me with open arms. They were encouraging and kind, and after the 6 week study was over they made sure that I found another study to join.

I joined the next study they recommended and kept at it. To be honest, I often felt like I was just going through the motions. There was a lot that I did not understand. The text felt difficult and confusing, but every so often there would be moments when something would click and I would have an incredible moment of peace or joy. I continued studying and little by little, during that excruciatingly difficult year, I found hope in the pages of my Bible. The moments of peace and joy began to come more frequently. The text started to come alive and as I learned more about Jesus’s life and character, I began to trust Him more with my heartache, loneliness, and fear. My relationship with Him deepened and my faith matured.

I remember marking the one year anniversary of moving to Minnesota with a huge sigh of relief. I had actually made it! And while I had not thrived during that year, I had survived it, and that felt like a major accomplishment. What I did not realize at the time was how much my faith had grown and matured that year, but this fall during my daily commute past my old apartment, it became clear. The foundation of my faith was laid during that hardest year and so many of the amazing blessings I have experienced in the twenty years since can be traced back to that first Bible study where I felt so awkwardly out of place.

Blessings such as the deep connection I feel with my husband when we pray, serve, or study the Bible together. The meaningful and life-giving friendships I have developed with a handful of sisters in Christ that share my faith. My victory over chronic anxiety and fear (which at some point deserves a blog post of its own). All of these “good and perfect gifts” (James 1:17) are from God and had their beginnings in my hardest year. A year that I could also call, “The Year I Opened My Bible”.

That hardest year caused me to open my Bible and opening my Bible gave purpose to my pain. The trials that I experienced were not meaningless. In reality, they were a divine invitation from God to deepen my relationship with Him. God loves me and knew what the next 20 years of my life would hold. He knew how difficult that year and a half would be when my oldest was so sick as a toddler and how trying the year and a half after his illness would be as we worked through intense physical and occupational therapy just to restore him developmentally. God knew the emotional toll that a cancer diagnosis at the age of 39 would take. And how difficult this pandemic year of isolation would be for me and my family. He saw all of this and knew that without a strong faith in Him, I would not survive those trials emotionally intact. So in His compassion and benevolence, He prepared me for what was coming by maturing my faith.

Psalm 119:105 tells us “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” This is why I call that first year in Minnesota, “The Hardest Year” because it was the year that I attempted to do without opening my Bible and it caused me to stumble around hopelessly in the dark, unsure of what direction to take next. Thankfully, God loved me too much to leave me there.

2020 has been a crazy difficult year. So many of us have experienced heartache, grief, and hardship. I often find myself wanting to go on autopilot, to shut off my brain, close down my heart, and just survive from day to day until all of this is over, but then I think about that sad 23 year old crying on her couch. At one of the lowest points in her life, she opened her Bible and it blessed her in ways she could not even have imagined. She allowed that hardest year to be an invitation to get to know Jesus in a deeper way. She allowed the trials to strengthen her faith and her life is richer for it.

So as this current hardest year comes to a close, what will you choose? Will you choose to ignore God’s invitation to know Him better? Or will you accept His invitation by joining a Bible study or small group or just setting aside time each day to pray? James 1:2-4 reminds us to, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” God wants a deep relationship with you. He loves you and wants to prepare you for what is coming next. He wants you to be mature and complete. He wants you to not lack anything.