By: Gabriela Yareliz

We near the end of this year. This morning, I came across the words, “Courage, dear heart,” written by C.S. Lewis. Those words came to mean something so much more profound to me this year. I read and held onto them before one of the darkest seasons of my own personal experience. I had no idea the grief and pain that was around the corner, and yet God was already whispering to me, “courage.” I recorded those words and thoughts here. And then, again here.

Even before that, the phrase that came to me in January of 2023 was “Arise.” I wrote about it here. The song that reflects on Lazarus’ rising from the dead (by CAIN) was on my heart. I didn’t understand it in the way I do now. I had no idea what the year had in store. Few of us did. As I look back now (hindsight is always fascinating), I realize God speaks to us and prepares us for what He knows is ahead, as we unknowingly wander in. As Pastor Shane said today, that is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit guides us to all truth and tells us what is to come. (John 16:13)

At the beginning of 2023, I didn’t know I was going to go through a year of death. There was a quite literal death and deep loss experienced with the loss of my father-in-law, who I absolutely adore. And following that, came a confusion that only people who have been plunged into a deep grief recognize. A fog. A confusion. A standstill. A pain, later followed by many tiny personal deaths.

I was only half jokingly remarking to someone close to me that this year was cursed. I am not so sure I am sad to see it go. It left me feeling stripped, with loss touching almost every aspect of my life.

And yet, I am writing to you here. I am in a much better place. A lot of us are. I feel like a different person. A lot of us are. There are moments where life irreversibly changes. Like burning paper. A chemical reaction occurs, and you can’t go back. This was one of those “burning paper” years. (I see myself in high school chemistry burning paper on a Bunsen burner). So, while I may say it was cursed, as I have learned through coaching, there is always joy that can be found in pain.

“If you are passionate about something, you will suffer for it,” Pastor Shane said today. There is something about being relentless through pain. Despite it being a face-numbing year, I felt God’s presence in the darkness. I met a remarkable woman this month at a community event, and while we hadn’t hit a religious note in our conversation, I surprised myself when I blurted out that life brings us a certain darkness. Certain, meaning, it touches us all-guaranteed. We can’t evade it. Yet, I know we are never alone, I explained. This woman, who had undergone volumes of suffering I have never been touched by, told me she knew it for certain, too. We are never alone. God is with us. God also heals us as we spend time in His presence. A scripture that brought tears to my eyes recently was, “His banner over me is love.” Song of Solomon 2:4

I wrote on January 15, 2023 (in Rise), “May you allow Him to make you truly alive. […] Life is hope. There is no room for despair. Arise.” And I still feel that in my bones. I had no idea how deeply I would need those words. How many of us would.

“Faith changes the end of the story. Always. There is no exception. No exceptions. That is something I feel in my very depth.” (Rise)

Debra Fileta wrote something I so resonate with. She wrote, “The best way I know to describe the heavy burden of grief and loss is to say that the load itself never gets lighter– but you get stronger.” After everything– I can say I feel stronger.

To circle back to C.S. Lewis’ Aslan and Lucy:

“Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger”.
“That is because you are older, little one” answered he.
“Not because you are?”
“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

― C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian

I feel a strength that comes from finding Him bigger. He continues to show up in my life, and as I get older, I see just how grand He truly is.

This year is almost gone. We have two months that I know will fly by. As I journal and reflect over a year that has felt like a decade of change, I want to circle back to my year’s word, rise.

When He said your name
The thing that filled your veins
Was more than blood
It’s the kind of love
That washes sin away
Now the door is open wide
The stones been rolled aside
The old is gone
The Light has come
So come on and

Come on and rise up
Take a breath, you’re alive now
Can’t you hear the voice of Jesus calling us
Out from the grave like Lazarus
You’re brand new
The power of death couldn’t hold you
Can’t you hear the voice of Jesus calling us
Out from the grave like Lazarus
Rise up, like Lazarus

CAIN

Rise up. The old is gone. The Light has come.