The Top 20 of 2020

If it hasn’t already been said, Charles Dickens wrote the best summary of the year 2020, which is remarkable given that he composed it in 1859:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way–in short, the period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

the opening of A Tale of Two Cities

This year truly was, for me, the best of times and the worst of times, and I’m not even talking about the virus or the political climate. In the midst of COVID-19, I delighted in my spring of hope, and barely survived the winter of despair. I tried several approaches to composing a Top 20 list, but each one led me back to this hope/despair dichotomy, so I decided instead to consult Instagram*.

*perhaps the most millennial thing I’ve ever said.

There’s a feature on Instagram where you can create stories, and these are photos or videos that last for 24 hours and disappear. They do, however, remain in the phone’s memory so you can compose a “highlight” story– say, of a trip to Greece – made by selecting your favorite posts. These highlights become a fixed feature on your profile.

I decided to create a highlight reel for 2020 by choosing my favorite Instagram story moments, and that is the fodder for this blog.

Without further ado:

The Top 20 Highlights of 2020

(as recorded by Instagram)

#1: The Day an “Influencer” Promoted My Book

A wonderful Rhode Island blogger, @intherhode–who, unbeknownst to me, would become one of my close friends this year–promoted my Rhode Island Writer’s Anthology on her IG story on the first day of 2020 (if you’re interested, you can check them out here). It was such a sweet gesture and a wonderful way to start the year; it made me feel like my year of writing had been worth it.

#2. The Day I Was Wiser Than Anyone Gave Me Credit For

Just as a refresher: January was not a great month for me.

• I wound up in the ER
• My car was broken into, and my backpack and laptop were stolen
• Insurance covered nothing
• My bank account was compromised with fraudulent checks and had to be closed
• My rent check–WHICH I SUBMITTED A MONTH EARLY–bounced because my landlord waited until the 15th of the month to cash it
• I got a flat tire
• And my ex-boyfriend’s grandfather, whom I loved, passed away and I missed the funeral.

Everyone told me, “You’ve gotten the worst of 2020 out of the way! It’ll all be smooth-sailing from here!” and, surprisingly, they were right.

At least for a while.

#3. My “Tiny Love Story” Kept Me Busy Around Valentine’s Day

I’ve written about this before, but I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. The short story is that I’ve been single since the dawn of time, and nothing highlights one’s relationship status like Valentine’s Day (or New Year’s**). But this year I profited from my bad luck because one of my dating stories was selected for a live reading the week of Valentine’s Day (the theme was “awkward & unusual love stories about Rhode Island dating experiences”). Did I have more than one story to submit, you ask? Why, yes. But I went with the one that definitely required a name change.

**Someone did a write-up of the contestants for The Bachelor one year, and when one of them said her favorite holiday was “New Year’s Eve,” the writer pointed out that “this person is most definitely a serial killer.”

Bonus: it turned out that someone at my table was stood up by an actual serial killer, but it was before he became a serial killer. As they say: Rejection is God’s protection.

#4. Pechakucha

Pechakucha is a live speaking event in which presenters prepare 20 slides that are 20 seconds each, so you can imagine that February 20th of 2020 was a BIG DEAL. All chapters of Pechakucha were hosting their meetings on the same day, and for some bizarre reason, I was asked to present. The theme was “We are Providence,” and I talked about food. I was panicked up until 6pm the day of the event, at which point I began drinking and then realized: I SHOULD DEFINITELY NOT BE DRINKING. But I managed to not slur my words and even got the timing right. (You can listen to my talk if you want). It was quite an honor.

Note: My friends are the absolute best. Back when people could fill into a stadium, I had two full rows of supporters, plus some overflow. And @intherhode was there (she bought me a Down East cider as soon as I finished speaking), as well as Angela-who-loves-aliens. I fan-girl’d Angela when she presented at Pechakucha the month before, and little did I know she would become one of my best friends in September.

#5. A Symbolic Publication

This is a perfect publication for people like me, the elephants who never forget. Contributors are asked to write about “this day, ten years ago.” (I followed the great examples of people like my editor, Allison K. Williams, and fellow Dartmouth alum, Greg Hill.) I’m including this here because it signifies the greatest triumph of the year: it’s about a 10-year-long heartbreak that had no end in sight. BUT GUYS. That’s why this year is so important!

You’ll see.

#6. Leap Day

As my friend Katie says, “Real life is for March,” so we celebrated Leap Day as if it were a real holiday. We spent the day in Salem and ended our escapades at Yoleni’s restaurant, for Greek Orthodoxy “On Tap.” Most everyone knows this story already, but I used my “I love Jesus and all things Greek” charm to seduce the speaker. It worked insofar as he gave me his phone number and responded when I texted him. He even wished me “sweet and happy dreams”*** that night, and he continued to do so, every night, for 189 nights.

***in Greek, my love language

#7. God Meets Us in Our Grief

 

I wrote about the Grief Table in Top 10 of March 2020 blog, but this event was really powerful. I remember the evening so clearly–from the reading in the first chapter of Ezekiel (Y’ALL. God shows up in places He shouldn’t, like outside the temple, outside of Jerusalem, in His people’s exile and hopelessness), to a modern-day parable about suffering, to the listening prayer in which God truly met me–and this was one of the most profound God Moments I had this year.

(Later in the year, God met me in 2 Chronicles and Exodus 14, but that’s another story.)

One of the “souvenirs” of the Grief Table was a glass bottle with a scripture verse written on a scroll inside (“You keep track of all my sorrows. / You have collected all my tears in a bottle. / You have recorded each one in your book” – Psalm 56:8) and I remember thinking in November, when I participated in round 2 of the Grief Table, that the bottles God needs for my tears must be the size of the stone jars from the wedding at Cana. In Jesus’ first miracle, he turned water into wine using stone jars that held 20-30 gallons each.

I bet my tears would make a fine wine.

#8. Writing as an Act of Worship

For Lent this year, I chose the discipline of writing daily reflections on Scripture passages, and as such, I offered my “first fruits” of writing to God. The Brevity Blog was kind enough to publish my thoughts on writing as an act of worship.

The Lenten practice was inspired by the fact I was accepted as a writer for Forward Day By Day. I was thinking they would give me the liturgical readings prior to Lent, but I didn’t receive them until the end of June. I suppose reflecting on Scripture is good for me regardless, and the fact I wrote 70+ meditations this year is not a bad thing. (My Forward Day by Day reflections will appear in July 2021; they’re free and accessible online if interested.)

Fun Fact: at the end of the year, I curated a similar booklet of reflections for Sanctuary Church, and I’m grateful that Andrew asked me to put this together. It gave me purpose, and hopefully it enriched others’ Advent experience.

#9. Bites By Bre 

This was the year that I discovered Bites By Bre. Before the world shut down, I had the pleasure of visiting her restaurant in person. (I wrote an article about it, but COVID prevented its publication.) My dinner “In the Round” is numbered among my favorite dining experiences of all time. I’m tempted to copy my article here for fear of not doing the story justice in two sentences, but something magical happened in that space, and it went beyond the food (although the food was sublime). It was the atmosphere–it reminded me of something out of a J.R.R. Tolkien novel–and the people I met, the way strangers became friends and we shared this unique, traveler-like connection.

As soon as RI restaurants closed, Bre pivoted to Friday night dinners, complete with flowers, and I partook in several. Not only that, Bre and I became good friends (in part because she resonated with my Past-Ten article), and we got to celebrate our July birthdays together, along with @intherhode. I am so grateful that this year introduced me to this incredibly compassionate, talented human.

#10. So. Many. Walks.

I would have lost my mind this year if it weren’t for the great outdoors. I’m lucky to live in an area of the city with easy access to bike trails and beautiful views. If the FitBit had an easy way to calculate the miles walked over the course of the year, I think it’d be close to a million.

This is one of the most iconic bridges. At the top–though not discernible in the picture–are the graffitied words, “One Love.” I think we could use that unified love right now.

#11. Dreams Do Come True

Sweet and savory bread upon arrival. Meze for dinner. Wine and long walks and post-walk Manhattans. And best of all, Greek frappés.

These are just a few of the many ways “Mr. Orthodoxy” made me feel seen and cared for. He was welcoming and generous and truly Greek in his hospitality, and the fact that he turned his office into a workout room for me is a testament to his kindness (or shows just how deeply my insanity influences other people). We danced in his living room, and his “milkshake brought all the boys the yard.” Certainly his frappés brought all the Jennys to New York, and I smile every time I think of the time he stopped in the middle of work on a Monday to make frappés for us because I gave him “I need caffeine” eyes.

#12. Prayers for Providence

This was a dark time, but it was really beautiful to come together with my church family in the middle of our city to pray and to walk and to be peacemakers. Throughout the entire year, Sanctuary has been faithful to pray for our city and our state, and to serve others. I am grateful for their example, demonstrating what being the Church can look like.

#13. An Occasion to Yiamas

This was the first time back at Yoleni’s, “the place where it all began.” It was also Mr. Orthodoxy’s first time to Providence, excluding the day we met, so I took him on a walking food tour. We only made it to 2.5 stops because the owner of Yoleni’s, Alexandra, prepared such a feast, we were unable to continue anywhere after that. Everything about this weekend was wonderful, in a sappy, please stop writing about it, kind of way.

Note: the next day we went to The Malted Barley, the final stop on the food tour, and I think it was my boyfriend’s favorite part of the visit. He confirmed what I always say: those pretzels are life-changing.

Also note: Alexandra is a creature of wonder. She endured one of the most difficult years of anyone I know, and she maintained such courage and steadfast faith. I hope 2021 is filled with blessings for her and her family.

#14. This View

I chose this photo instead of a myriad of others because I’m proud of my own Instagram captioning. Here’s the great irony: whenever the two of us would spend time together (in person), I’d ask what the high point and the low point of his day was. More than once, the highest point was “the view [at some location],” and I would get my feelings hurt because all of my high points of the day involved him and were not exclusive to nature.

Anyway, this photo made me smile because if you asked me what, “What’s your highlight from the year 2020?” I would say, “This view.”

#15. Birthday Bliss

I have the best friends. In the middle of a global pandemic, they still showed up. Not only did they come out to kayak, several of them also came to PVD, where we ate Dune Brothers (the best fish sandwiches in the world), and picnicked near the pedestrian bridge. They gave me gifts and cards and showered me with love, and it turned out to be one of my favorite birthdays***.

***I promise I will write about 33 on Thassos someday.

#16. Lessons

This image really struck me in September, and it still strikes me now. “Be patient,” was a word I received in late August, along with “be still” and “wait on the Lord.” {eye roll} Yes, those are the worst kind of words to receive. I’m guessing this photo strikes me because there are lessons here I have yet to learn.

I heard about an artist–I believe he’s in Rhode Island, but maybe I’m wrong–who planted trees in such a way that they wrapped around each other as they grew. He did this for the sole purpose of using them for an art display.

How do I learn this level of patience? And intentionality?

#17. The Summit

This feels poignant for a New Year’s Blog: looking back on where we’ve been, seeing the distance we’ve traveled to arrive at this moment.

When I was laid off from my job in 2008, I went on a hike. On my last day in Queenstown, I went on a hike. When my boyfriend in grad school broke up with me, I went to the Appalachian Trail. And so it was this year – I needed a good, long (11.5 mile) hike on the most gorgeous day of Fall, when the leaves in New Hampshire turned glorious shades of gold and red and pink and orange.

I’m also grateful to M-Dogg, because when I asked if we could hike Franconia, his response was an immediate HECK YES.

Note: if you’ve ever climbed a long and arduous mountain, you understand out why it’s the perfect metaphor for nearly every trial you face in life.

#18. Daily Encouragement

The caption says “Today’s prayer,” but in truth I have prayed this prayer many times since October 19th.

I don’t know what I would do without my daily dose of encouragement, whether it comes from this devotional calendar, or Jesus Calling, or Scripture readings, or sermons, or the Bible app, or Marco Polo****, or a text from a friend (most often, Angela). God is everywhere, if only we have the eyes to see.

****the app, not the Italian explorer

#19. Prayer Walks with Prayer Warriors

I’ve written about my prayer group before, when I was nearly enlisted to work for the porn king, but a few friends and I have been praying together on a weekly basis since 2018. And even in the midst of COVID, we kept it up–in fact, we were more diligent in our weekly prayer than ever before. Who knew four-way phone calls were a thing? This year I’ve clocked countless hours and miles, walking and praying on the phone with these women, and all I can say is that God is unquestionably good, and God is faithful. I saw monumental prayers answered–prayers that have been on our hearts for years–and systems begin to crumble, and I think, “Wow. We’re just four young women, doing our best to seek the Lord.” Imagine what God could do if more people prayed.

My encouragement, if you’ve been praying, is to keep going. God makes gardens grow out of tombs, and He brings life out of death. Even when it seems hopeless. Even if we’ve been waiting a long time.

Be patient. The kind of patient it takes to grow trees.

#20. Hope

I’m going to end this year with this message of holding onto hope. Like these vines holding onto a stone wall, refusing to let go–of both the wall and their color–I want to enter 2021 with a fierce and tenacious heart.

I’ve tried to project into the future, wondering what I’ll remember most from 2020. And here is what I know.

In February of this year, a story that I wrote, that was ten years in the making, that ended on a note of interminable waiting, finally found its ending. The things that caused me sorrow this year stemmed from that which caused me joy, a joy that had once been filled with sorrow.

What I mean is this, as written by Kahlil Gibran (but rearranged to my liking):

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

On Joy and Sorrow

When I think of wood hallowed out by knives, becoming a lute that soothes the soul, I can’t help but think also of gardens growing where once there were tombs, and the One who makes it all possible.

And that, most definitely, fills me with hope.

Happy New Year.