I went looking for my January post about the word WHOLE and I found it, in March, two weeks after I went on Prozac. If the year stopped there it would have been a huge win. Prozac. Healing. Wholeness. There are years I take the word by the horns and shake everything I can get out of it (unashamed) and years they just kind of keep showing up (here) but this year it feels like WHOLE did the work of 2017 I needed to do and I watched.

I am, for sure, more integrated, less scattered and boxed off, my mothering and seminary and writing and all the things feel like pieces of me that fit together not pieces of me that are fighting with each other. Part of this was thoughtful balancing from me.  Most of this was prozac. When I am not fighting the anxiety that only shows up when I am depressed, I have more time to like my life. My whole life, as a whole, not tiny pieces of it at a time.

I became a preacher in 2017. I preached once in 2016. I knew I wanted to preach, but I became a preacher in 2017. I took two preaching classes last January, preaching and women in preaching. I took them back to back and I loved it. I loved learning to preach. I loved talking about preaching. I loved dissecting sermons and thinking about what makes preaching good. I liked talking about preaching in a digital age, the difference between a ted talk, a lecture, and a sermon, and whether or not Michelle Obama is a preacher. I bring my whole self to preaching. It contains all of me and I love it, and it loves me back. I will preach pretty much anywhere someone will let me.

I started being paid for my “hobby” of social media. Part of being whole for me has been about integrating my life and saying WHOA not all people can do what I do. Not all people want to do it. I have skills that I developed that are monetarily of value. Y’all. This was huge for me.

I am a student who is a mother, and that means that part of my mothering is saying “mommy is studying right now” and part of my student-ing is bringing my motherhood into the classroom. I am allowed to talk about the deeply spiritual (for me) experience of birth and mothering when we are talking about spiritual things. I am allowed to say “my kids are like the Israelites” or “Juliet and Priscilla struggle less with inclusivity than I do.” Can I tell you that sometimes my class mates roll their eyes? That is okay. I sometimes write off their 22 year old experience as not applicable too, so I guess we are even.

But mostly, it is the Prozac. I am comfortable in my skin. I am confident in my voice. I am whole. When I assessed this year there was a lot of me that felt sad. Other women I know got new jobs, book deals, promotions. None of that was 2017 for me. But I got whole, and I am so very glad.