I’m really done with my word of the year.

Usually that isn’t the case. I might not like the word, but I see the good things that come from it and I can understand.

Not this year.

On Sunday, I was sitting in church and I was like “ok god, let’s be done. Let’s wrap this one up like a bow.”

And he said “nah, I’m good.”

Because, again, I have to keep going. 

And no matter what that’s going to be the case. I’m always going to keep meeting places I’ve been before.

Again and again.

I thought this year would have more answers than it has. I thought maybe it would hold something.

And really, it has held a lot. 

It’s still held more than I can even comprehend I know.

Usually, at this point in the year I feel like we’re starting to coast to the finish line. 

Like I have a grasp and I start to understand what the baton in the relay race is going to look like.

But, right now, I can’t even see the baton. I don’t know what it looks like, I don’t know if I’m even still moving towards the finish line.

It kind of feels like I’m playing Mario kart with the Steiners and I’m just choosing to go off course because it’s easier.

 This year has honestly made me feel like I don’t know who I am at all.

And has made me feel like I know exactly who I am at the same time.

Because I knew this year, each thing I met, I had met before. I knew that each moment where I felt like I was walking through fire, I had walked through it before.

I had done it before so I can do it again.

And because of all of that; I stopped seeing that as a threat. 

When I think about the labyrinth and how Sarah, the main character, is utilizing the book she has that is the story of the labyrinth to get through she must feel as if she’s been there before. She knew the book so well that it must have felt a bit like she had been there before.

And there were places in the maze she went to again and again. 

She was caught in the place of either moving forward and or allowing herself to “rest” in a place that at one point in the journey been safe.

But the journey moved her forward.

The journey has kept moving me forward.

The things I’ve had to unearth even in just the last stretch of time that have been a reminder to me that my worth is not based on what I do.

That I’m not the glue, even when it feels like if I allow myself to let go control it will all crumble.

It causes me to sit on a street corner in Brasov, Romania across from Betsy Garmon as she leans in to tell me, remind me, implore me that I don’t have to be the glue.

It’s almost as if, I’m still making my way toward the Goblin King.

I haven’t had the chance to tell him he has no power over me.

I haven’t saved the baby.

I just dreamed I did.

So here I am, again.

Stronger.

More capable.

But still moving the fuck forward.

We have less than 6 weeks left.

I think I’m ready for this maze to be over.

Let’s save the baby.

With love,

Meg