What happens in a year?

In one year we often notice things like how tall our kids have grown, how they’ve learned to read, or maybe math is coming easier to them. If we look back on our own year, do we notice how we’ve grown in good ways or only with a negative outlook? Do we choose to only take note of what we didn’t accomplish in those twelve months?

This past year, almost exactly one year from last month (March 2025), started a journey that has grown our family in ways we didn’t even know were A) possible and B) necessary.

And isn’t that how growth usually goes?

The stress that farmers and ranchers endure is not unknown although probably not fully understood unless you are actively living that life or have lived it for more than five years at some point. And it’s not fully understood because - you guessed it - it’s not talked about. I believe they are worried that if they truly tried to explain it either no one would believe them or they would be told to find a different job. I’ve found myself suggesting that to my husband a few times.

The thing that I believe gets most of them through those hard times is that this is a lifestyle that they treasure and the fear that it will disappear feels like a possible reality. And so, they keep pushing on…in the same fashion as the previous hard year with their head down to get through the work; come up for breath in the brief in-between-season days.

But what happens when either the mind or body breaks under that?

This is what happened a year ago.

When years of pushing through, burying hurts and ignoring clues caused my husband’s body to rebel. It started with not being able to sleep and progressed to barely eating, which then created a nausea he could barely stand to even try eating again. With his history of anxiety, at first he thought he had the tools to work through minor panic attacks and sleepless nights. And maybe those did help; or they just bought time until the real break happened. Then he crashed. Literally collapsing on the floor, his body no longer able to hold him up. We now look back on Easter 2025 as both a reminder of what can happen when things are stuffed AND also full of hope of what can grow out of storm weary souls.

This is when prayer started changing me. Giving me a strength I couldn’t explain; a perseverance that doesn’t come natural. It was also when I finally humbled myself to reach out for prayer from others. I came to realize that sharing the burden didn’t put it on them (which was always what held me back), but it was a load they were willing to carry with me. Because they love me and my family. That is a comfort that I still can’t find the words to express gratitude for.

I’m not going to go into thorough detail of what the last 12 months have been like. There have been more tears than the first fifteen years of marriage held. There has been growing pains from vulnerable conversations, apologies, and the awkward balance finding rhythms while also living life in the chaos.

Just recently, I have personally been convicted in this area of vulnerability. Last year, I was willing to ask for prayer for my husband and family and by extension, me, but I still wasn’t asking for the specific needs that I myself struggle with. After explaining during the small group I’m in, why I believe we need a different outlook on asking for prayer, Holy Spirit was like “when was the last time you asked for prayer for yourself?” And it was obvious to me that this prompt was about the deeper soul struggles I tend to stuff and not the everyday, get-me-through-the-chaos appeals.

And so I did it. I shared how my heart has felt dried up and I don’t know how to fix it and I feel like there’s some critical step I’m missing that is keeping me from knowing and trusting Jesus like I’m supposed to. I shared that I’m sick and tired of feel sick and tired AND that because I’m a Christian I’m not supposed to feel this way. I shared me soul and asked for prayer about it. Those same friends that prayed diligently for my husband and family during our darkest time came - and continue to come - alongside me to help with the burden.

So what happens in a year?

How do we grow in ways that make us better? What thing did we choose to let go of or grab a hold of that is working at making us a better version than we were previously?

Through one of the hardest seasons of my life, humility and vulnerability helped me to grow into a more honest and intentional version of Brittany. And that has brought up some more things that I now need to wrestle with; I’m working on asking “how can this grow me?” instead of asking “why can’t I get past or figure this out?”

I love this Amplified version of this verse. I never really understood “righteousness” in this way - pay attention to that. It’s not a “be good” check list, it’s simply seeking Jesus.