I’m grateful that the evening rush hour traffic in D.C. was its usual congested. As I crossed the bridge from Alexandria, Virginia into D.C. city limits on a January evening, Tasha Cobbs’ “Fill Me Up” blared through my speakers. Immediately, the words pierced my heart and left my mouth as tears flooded my eyes. I did not want to be in the District again, but I was here. After moving away to mid-Missouri for 11 months in 2018, I was returning for a new job and another chance to see why God has me on the east coast. I thought I would spend a solid five years back in Missouri to pay off student loans, maybe buy a house and build equity, and eventually move back to the east coast with money in my pocket. But I would go straight to New York City; no more D.C. business. Yet here I was on the highway, teary eyed, and stuck in traffic. “Fill Me Up” was more like a declaration of obedience—I wasn’t crying because of the traffic. I knew God had me back here for a reason and I would need every ounce of the Holy Spirit to navigate this city again. Graciously, my plea was heard. This year has been a lesson in learning how to enjoy God’s blessings and goodness, though the first several months required a whole lot of sifting and letting go. I had to intentionally walk into and accept the goodness I desired.

Considering how this decade started for me, I am grateful to have enough sense to walk away from things that are not good for me—whether that’s people, job opportunities, or otherwise. And I can say that my toughest lesson this year was experiencing goodness. I’ve thrived in chaos for a very long time. As a survivor, former crisis advocate and violence prevention educator, it’s become second nature for me to manage a crisis and build relationships in crisis. It’s been easy for me to meet God in the valleys, in the trauma, and the pain. I haven’t always stopped to enjoy green pastures until this year, and even that is still a lesson in progress. I actually felt a pull to pray—really plead—that the Lord would make me enjoy nice things.

Originally, I moved to Washington, D.C. with the promise of being a staff writer for a nonprofit—a seemingly answered prayer when I lived in Miami. Essentially I was supposed to write about social justice and get paid for it. That’s not what happened, so I left. But through all of this year’s changes and sifting and shedding, I’m walking into the new year as the writer and editor at a social justice organization. The job I thought I had nearly four years ago, is finally mine. It’s still the nonprofit sector so it isn’t without flaws, but it is a fulfilled promise, so it is good.

I have no idea what’s to come in this new year or this new decade. I have desires, intentions, plans that I’m holding with an open hand. I didn’t know that I would be a full-time writer and editor this time last year, let alone at the beginning of the decade. I didn’t even consider myself a writer a decade ago! I didn’t know that I would complete a book manuscript or launch a business (even as I work out the kinks). I didn’t know that there were many lessons I needed to learn along the way. I didn’t know that I’ve been hiding and shrinking back even as I try to walk with purpose, on purpose.

Someone asked me a couple of months ago what I was doing now to prepare for the desires and dreams I continue to pray for. I can’t pray for things that I don’t also prepare for, particularly through discipline and the choices I make. I can’t pray for freedom or joy then shrink myself to fit a mold that was never intended for me. I can’t pray for creativity and never pitch my ideas or only pitch what feels safe and familiar. I can’t pray for assurance then feel small when God’s purpose for me isn’t affirmed by other people. I can’t pray for freedom from superhero syndrome then walk right back into savior mode through my familial, platonic or romantic relationships. I can’t pray to live in NYC (and afford to live in NYC) without taking advantage of a significant promotion, super cheap rent, and saving while I can for such a move.

Through prayer and practice, I have my list of preparations moving into this next year and decade. Many of the preparations scare me; that’s how I know I’m on the right path. I can no longer afford to play it safe and tend to my comfort. But I have confidence that God will continue to show me that he’s able and willing to do exceedingly more than I can imagine. And that is good. God is good and I can enjoy that goodness now, in 2020, and beyond.