One Word 2021 - Crucible

Each year since 2014 I have chosen one word for myself. A word to ground me. To guide me. To explore and observe. How I use my word each years shifts a bit, but each year it helps me to sit with myself and think about where I am in life and where I might be headed. If you would like to hear a bit more, I preached this sermon on the practice.

The word I chose for myself in 2021 was crucible.

Crucible has two definitions, generally speaking. It either refers to a vessel made to withstand high heats so that it can hold materials heated to a high temperature (more simply put, a melting pot), or it refers to a severe test or trial. The origin of the English word may have come from a medieval Latin word meaning "night lamp."

I chose this word because 2021 started off as a very difficult year for me. I had reorganized my entire life in order to take care of my family during this pandemic, and I was depleted, having been (mostly) cut off from my support networks and exiled to the sphere of care work. There is no experience quite like that of doing work that is absolutely crucial but also nearly invisible and thankless. In the attempt to hold myself together between the dread of watching covid-19 numbers and keeping at bay the panic that I could lose one of my loved ones while remembering that I was still a human besides how many domestic or motherly tasks I could accomplish in one day, I was reading three books simultaneously: The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd, Falling Upwards by Father Richard Rohr, and Wintering by Katherine May. 

Each in their own way pointed out that there are seasons in life where you will be stripped down and the only way through is forward, but it was a certain kind of forward, a surrendering, a submitting to limits, a vulnerable and wounded wayfaring. Rohr and May both specifically used the word "crucible" when referring to these seasons in life (Monk Kidd may have too, and I'm just not remembering correctly). As a Minnesotan, I knew in my body how winter is an annual crucible that one must submit to. I know what it means to trudge. I remember watching a news segment from one particularly harsh and cold winter when medical professionals were reminding people to wear their gloves and scarves when they were outside because they were seeing a higher than usual number of people coming in with frostbite on their fingers and noses. The pride in being a tough and hardy Minnesotan was getting in the way of people seeing that it was no ordinary winter. It was a winter that demanded submission, extra caution, and preparation.

I knew, as if God had whispered it to me, that I was trudging through a crucible time in my life. Choosing crucible helped me face the reality that I was going to change no matter what I did. This was going to be a moment in my life that I would tell stories about, that I would point to to explain who I became. If I must change, how was I going to get myself through it? What did I want to change into?

I decided that I had stories that I wanted to tell and work that I wanted to do. I, also, wasn't going to wait for the "right" time or place to do that work any longer. I wasn't going to waste anymore of my time or gifts. I claimed space. I started writing again. I built myself a website. I started this blog. I reconnected with friends who ready for this new version of me. I started answering an old question in a new way (maybe more on that some other time).

Now, I am cautiously optimistic for what lies ahead. At the very least, I trust that I can handle what comes. Someday, I'll be proud to tell my children how I got myself through 2021.