525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year?

In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee?

In inches? In miles? In laughter? In strife?

Well, this year for me included all of the above. I shared daylights and sunsets, was awake for many midnights followed by many cups of coffee. I experienced growth in inches and traveled many miles. I experienced lots of laughter but with equal amounts of strife. This year was a doozy and if you’d asked me on New Year’s Eve of last year where I’d be today, this place would not have been my answer. In fact, my answer would’ve been the opposite of everything my life is today.

The funny thing to me is, I rang in the new year last year in an uneventful way. I was gathered around a kitchen table with a person who at the time was my best friend and two other close friends. And oddly enough, it was telling of the year to come because without two of those friends and many others, I wouldn’t have survived 2011.

I lived through a disaster, a couple of them actually. I lived through the worst tornado outbreak in the history of Alabama. I saw unimaginable sorrow, followed by unbelievable humanity. I saw lives shattered, destroyed and even lost. I saw death up close, and I saw a new side of sorrow I wish for no one to ever experience. I saw kindness from strangers’ arms reach across the state, and I saw open hearts stretch across a country. I saw determination on behalf of a newsroom, and I learned what it truly means to be part of a team — or rather a family. I saw this online community unite for a cause well beyond a personal agenda. I saw humility, generosity and understanding from 23 states and four countries — all with no personal agenda other than to help a stranger.

I survived a personal heartbreak that some days, still hurts. But when I was at my lowest, I felt God’s hand on my heart. After 10 years of ignoring God, I returned to my core — to my faith — and it felt good. In the moments I could hear my heart breaking, I could feel God’s hand on it. He put people in my life when I needed them. He spoke through sermons, through songs and through those around me so I could hear Him clearly. I shed a lot of tears this year, but I celebrated a lot of new beginnings with smiles, too.

I traveled across several states to sleep on a stranger’s couch. I greeted friends with hugs on our first meeting. I laughed. I cried. And I celebrated. I mourned. I wished. And I dreamed. It was a year of lost battles, but a year of small triumphs. A year I found inspiration in unusual places and I found successes in the smallest things. While I am confident in who I am, this year taught me how to love who I am. I learned how to remember I am beautifully and wonderfully made — imperfections and all. I learned to never underestimate the power behind a good book and a glass of wine on the couch. I remembered no matter my mood or what the day could bring, a couple of wagging tails could change any attitude. I learned that in my darkest moments, God’s word could offer hope and promise.

I took control of my life again. I took control of my finances and set goals for myself before I turn 30. (Why hello, Paris!) I finally figured out I am nothing without Christ, and after years of running and ignoring His call, surrendered to something far greater than myself. And after 18 years of living with type 1 diabetes, I learned how to finally manage — with education, advocacy and a community of supportive friends. I put aside my selfish fears and did what was best for my body and my health — getting a CGM and a pump — effectively bringing my A1c to the lowest number it has been in years. I learned how to pat myself on the back and celebrate the small things.

I learned how to be a peace keeper, and I learned how to be strong. I learned how to stand up for myself, and I learned about courage. I learned how to lean on God, and I learned how to ask for help. I learned how to share my hand and my shoulder when someone needed it. I finally learned it it was OK to cry, and it was OK to hurt. I realized God doesn’t take away pain or sorrow, but he provides a way of making it through the journey with grace and love. I found a new favorite song, a new favorite movie and lots of other new favorites. I was reminded of how much I love my best friend and I remembered how special family is. I cut my hair, bought my highest pair of heels yet and even wore pink. I saw Auburn win the National Championship in person and did so with my favorite Auburn fans and friends in the world. I learned how to ride a bicycle for a cause that matters, and I learned that a number will never define me — my blood sugar, my weight, my age, my income, my anything. I am not a number.

It was a year of reflection, a year of tears and a year of holding many hands. It was a year full of prayer — the first in a long time. It was a year of self-realization and self-appreciation. A year to realize I am worth loving and someone out there is worth my waiting for them. When I think about the Victoria from Jan. 31, 2010, it’s clear to see I’m not who I was, and I’m excited about that. I’m finally in a place where I know what I want, and I will wait for it with faith and hope.

“There is hope for me yet
Because God won’t forget
All the plans he’s made for me
I have to wait and see
He’s not finished with me yet”

-Wait and See, by Brandon Heath