We Have a Reason to Celebrate in 2021

I am not a New Year’s person. Every year, I approach the next year with apprehension rather than anticipation. For me, the unknown is fraught with fear that my dreams will go unrealized and my goals will become just another opportunity to fail. I struggle to look into the future with expectancy.

This year, I’m noticing that several have joined me in my unease. For most of us, 2020 presented some painful situations. Our challenges were not equal. They didn’t look the same. But for all of us, 2020 forced us to confront circumstances we could not change. For some of us, this pain revealed weaknesses we prefer to ignore and keep hidden.

We’d love to walk boldly into the future, uninhibited by the disappointments, struggles, and heartache that entangled us this year. It feels easier to cut ourselves off from the pain of 2020 than to sit with it long enough to let it be our teacher. It feels safer to hope for different and better circumstances in 2021 than to train our eyes to see the good of our reality right now.

But the secret to a happy New Year actually has very little to do with the events or conditions that await us when our calendar turns. No, the secret to finding joy and experiencing peace in 2021 is naming the goodness of 2020—recognizing and living with gratitude for our blessings now even if the story was different than the one we would have written.

Let me be clear: I am not a proponent of “silver linings.” Pain is pain, and it is unhelpful to try to call the disappointment or devastation you may have experienced this year something different. This isn’t about tying a bow on our hardships and heartache, but rather being willing to see the gifts in the wake of what has felt broken and lost this past year. It’s about acknowledging the ways in which God moved in our hearts and lives in the midst of struggle we would not have chosen for ourselves. How did the fractures in our expectations become beacons of light? How did the brokenness break us open to truth that might have otherwise gone unseen? We cultivate joy in the future when we accept and celebrate the life we are living now.

Not only does noticing and appreciating goodness impact the amount of joy we experience in our current lives, but the research is clear that gratitude also allows us to look into the future and see possibilities instead of the problems we fear—even if those problems were realities for us in 2020. Imagine opening the door to 2021. Do you slowly let the door creak open with caution, dreading what you suspect you might find? Or, do you open it with expectancy, excited about what God could do with the next twelve months? Reflecting on 2020 with thanksgiving, broadens our vision and cultivates our imagination for the year to come. Another way to say it: gratitude gives us the freedom to dream.

It’s tempting to look into the next year and wonder if we will have a reason to hope. It’s easy to stare at our calendar with all the memories of a painful year and worry that we won’t have anything to celebrate. We convince ourselves that joy is an emotion that comes on the far side of a dream realized or a goal achieved, or that it’s a feeling that is only attached to a perfect set of circumstances. But the truth is that we have much more empowerment over our own sense of joy that we typically believe. We assume that joy will come with a transition instead of a transformation of the heart. We may not have a choice about the seasons and situations we must walk through. But we can make choices about what we look for and, therefore, find. We can make decisions about how we connect with others. And we are empowered over whether or not we will allow our circumstances be an avenue of growth in our lives.

You may be wondering if it’s a good idea to hold onto hope as you move into the new year. After all, isn’t it most prudent to keep our expectations low and to not get our hopes up? Maybe then, we can only be pleasantly surprised. But keeping our expectations low is merely a means of control. When we attempt to protect ourselves from pain, we protect ourselves from all of it—even the joy. Let us not forget that we don’t hope because of what we receive. We hope because of Who we receive. No matter what set of circumstances await us in the coming year, we know that every trial and celebration is accompanied by invitation to know God more fully. And therefore, every trial and celebration gives us a reason to hope.

There were big changes, rough patches, losses and heartaches in 2020. But there was also togetherness, surrender, a shifting in priorities, and unexpected hope. If 2020 offered me one message, it was this: There is blessing in any year that enflames our longing for Christ. And the only thing I know for sure about 2021 is that it’s a year that promises the same. That alone is reason enough to hope … and to celebrate.