I debated writing this post. Is it navel gazing to post links to a bunch of posts I wrote over the course of the last year? Maybe. But something I’m not very good at doing is celebrating — celebrating growth, celebrating hard work, celebrating the way God showed up, celebrating the people that made things better. I want to do more of that.
There is so much to be thankful for. And much of that good, along with the hard, was documented in these posts.
Most of you joined sometime in the last six months — something that still flummoxes me a little. I started the year with a subscriber base of 63 wonderful people, and now there’s a lot more of you! In large part that is due to the generosity of those of you who share my writing1. Thank you so much. This Substack world has been a bright spot of encouragement for me this year.
So, without further yakking… here’s to 2023:
January
I started the year by joining
in an IG detox2. A week in, I wrote this post — to date, my most read post:My other goal was to master gluten free sourdough. I bought a course, and by the end of the month I had a workable starter and was making dinner rolls.
February
Baby month! Or so we thought. Spoiler: we had a March birthday. I wrote about how to have a baby:
and then we waited, and waited, and filled (and emptied) the birth tub three times. And went to Costco (again), and got another cold, and went to my 41 week appointment… and then, finally…
March
March arrived and still no baby. The six year old cried every morning upon seeing my very large belly. Finally, we took ourselves on a date to the brewery and had a baby 3 hours after we got home. Our party of boys gained a little girl! I wrote a guide to postpartum (reminders to myself) amidst tongue-ties and milk woes and mastitis:
April
I finished out a very Lenten postpartum — the second time I have exited the haze of the first six weeks after a baby and felt the joy of Easter at the same time. I mused about postpartum brain science and wrote poetry:
May
We spent time thinking through life plans, the busy season ramped up for work, we finished a school year, put offers on houses and got outbid and I wrote about the hope in investing in temporary homes:
June
I finally made the decision to ditch Instagram but wrestled with the implications for my writing. On Thursday I scheduled a post announcing my departure. On Friday I awoke to
sharing my January article and my subscriber list doubling overnight. I laughed. It was a giant confirmation from God that he was in charge of my writing career, not me. I wrote more about birth, fertility and obedience, and we took an epic family road trip. The trip that will go down in family lore as the year of:July
A family wedding, the summer doldrums, gardening, a lot of time spent working on a homeschool co-op syllabus and learning about polyvagal theory and mind, body and soul:
August
August was hard. I turned 32, had oral surgery, dealt with feeling on edge and overstimulated and felt the impending crunch of not quite having enough time for anything. We started school and took a trip to North Carolina. I took a break from Substack to deal with this:
September
I felt like I was running a three legged race and everything was messy. Life was in full swing, and it was good, but there was just too much of it. I mused that perhaps this is just how life is:
October
Hunting season and sprinkler blowouts, long hours and teething babies. I wrote more about technology and addiction, and gave a play-by-play of a homeschool day’s hijnks:
November
The month of endless sickness that culminated in a trip to the ER. I would love to never repeat this month again. We celebrated Thanksgiving as the walking wounded and reeled a little:
December
Advent is never what I expect, and always what I need. Time to unpack the things I’d been carrying too tightly, time as a family, and time to stay on the floor.
As we turn the corner into a New Year, I am grateful. I am tired. I am looking for the fingerprints of God, and clinging to the image of being held in my fears. I face the New Year with no illusions that it will be easy, but the knowledge that, as Gabor Mate says: “Safety is not the absence of threat, but the presence of connection.”3
Just for fun
Favorite read of the year : All My Knotted Up Life by Beth Moore. I aspire to this level of gracious honesty in storytelling.
Most listened to song: Spotify says it’s “Slow Me Down” from this album. Hahahaha. #answeredprayers and all. I guess I DID pray that all fall… Some of us just need uh, assisted slowing.
Best food discovery: Alter-Eco raspberry chocolate and Rasa herbal coffee (saving my adrenals, one cup of non-coffee at a time).
The Substack network has also been a win for me. I like it here.
Just try getting completely off for 30 days. Commit to a month, see what you notice and go from there. It’s like an elimination diet for media — sometimes you don’t know how awful something makes you feel until you experience life without it. You might decide to get back on! That’s fine! Getting off isn’t the point. The point is to know how you use it and to make decisions that are aligned with what actually matters to you in real life.
Thank you to Strong Like Water for this quote. I’ve heard others say that the predominant factor in trauma is the sense that we are both abandoned and powerless. The idea of God continuing to be present in our threats and difficulties is so hopeful to me — it doesn’t make life easy, or take away the pain, but what if we ARE deeply safe because of this?
I loved finding your writing this year! I found you from “You’re Not Doing It Wrong” - such a balm to my soul. Love this overview. Look forward to digging into some of your archive 👌🏼
Loved discovering your writing this year Annelise!