2016 was yet another year of transition (things are always changing over here or so it seems!) I'm thankful though, because despite the constant adjusting, there was so much good. Among the highlights: I left my full-time job, started working for myself again, gave birth to the cutest baby boy, got published for the first time in a really long time, started a discipleship group at church with Musa and accepted a speaking engagement despite being terrified about it (more on that later). Most importantly, I'd like to think I learned a lot more about who God is and who I am in Him this year. I am beyond grateful.

Now, as I eagerly await the beginning of a brand new year, I realize there are some things I don't want to take with me when the clock strikes midnight on December 31, 2016. I know I'm going to have to enter this year with a little less baggage and a lot more courage if I'm going to chase my dreams, so here's what's on my list to leave behind:

1. Expectations of where I should be + what I should have accomplished by now

I'm looking at you New York City, unsecured book deal and size 6 jeans (who am I kidding, I'd settle for size 8 jeans in a heartbeat.) Every day, I'm reminded of who I am not. The voices in my head tell me I've failed miserably at creating the life I want for myself, that I'm not good enough and that I'll never measure up to who I'm supposed to be. It's easy enough to believe (they're pretty convincing the little liars), but a trip down that rabbit hole will inevitably result in self-pity, which distracts me from the business of actually living and thriving. In 2017, I want to be where my feet are and own the life I'm living instead of beating myself up about not being far along enough.

2. Fear

Of trying, of failing, of not trying, of anything less than perfect. Seriously when did I stop taking risks?! Somewhere along the way, I became afraid of what used to excite me. I started worrying more and creating less. I talked myself out of trying too hard because of fear of rejection. I thought it I couldn't do it perfectly, I shouldn't do it at all. More and more though, I find myself standing on the edge of the pool wanting so badly to jump in the deep end, but I'm scared. Maybe I can swim, but how will I know if I stay on the sidelines or if I wait until everything lines up perfectly? I let fear stop me from putting myself out there this year. Next year, I want to do it scared and imperfectly, but most of all, I just want to do it.

3. Comparison

A dear friend of mine once told me she believes envy is one of the best teachers. When we begin comparing ourselves to others, it is a sign that some longing within us is unfulfilled. We are discontent. Perhaps we're unsure of who we are or where we're going. Maybe life gets tough so we start to question the process. There's a scripture in the Bible that says, "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28, ESV)." It means that everything in my life is purposeful. No matter where I find myself, I have the assurance that because of who I am in Jesus, my circumstances will work out for my good and God's glory. With that kind of guarantee, there's no need to look at someone else and think I'm getting the short end of the stick. I can rest in knowing that I'm right where I should be, even when it doesn't look that way. In 2017, I want to trust God fully with my story and stop comparing myself to everyone else.

4. Dreams without goals

I'm what you'd call a chronic dreamer. Nothing gets me excited like a big idea or a challenge. I absolutely love planning. I get motivated by doing what people say is impossible. The problem is my discipline to get things done in my personal life can't quite keep up. I can create a strategic plan to accomplish almost any objective in my sleep - heck, I do it for a living! - but when it comes to planning my own life, I'm lazy and disorganized. In 2017, I don't want to be frustrated by unrealized dreams. I heard Denzel Washington (now affectionately known as Uncle Denzel by the interwebs) say this in a video gone viral today:

"Understand this. You have these dreams ... and dreams without goals remain dreams. Just dreams. And they ultimately fuel disappointment ... Goals on the road to achievement cannot be achieved without discipline and consistency. Between goals and achievement are discipline and consistency."

How right you are Uncle Denzel. Let this be the year that I try and work as hard as I dream.

Perhaps you can relate?

This is our year, yours and mine. Let's decide right now that regardless of what happens in 2017, this will be the year we let go of whatever is holding us back. Whether it's internal or circumstantial, let's cut loose whatever is keeping us from living abundantly, trusting God fully and loving others recklessly.

Happy New Year!

Know those people who can't take a bad picture? The ones blessed with stunning facial features like beautiful jaw lines? They post pictures on social media with hashtags like #iwokeuplikethis and we actually believe them because as far as we can tell, they're perfect.

Yeah, that's not us.

Most of our family pictures end up with me looking like a deer in headlights and my husband's smile fading into a grimace mid-shot because let's face it, you can only hold a staged pose for so long before you start to feel silly. Inevitably, my toddler will become distracted by something, anything other than the camera being shoved in his face (#boys). By the time it's all said and done, the photos look more like an experiment gone terribly wrong than a happy, loving family. So when we decided to take family photos this Christmas (the week before Christmas mind you), I was nervous. Would they look posed and cheesy? Would our fussy newborn cooperate?

Our first and best decision was choosing a photographer who knows us, which I highly recommend, especially when kids are involved. Our good friend Kelsey has done several other family photo shoots for friends, so she was an easy choice. (Check her out if you live in the DMV.) We messaged her on a Tuesday and were scheduled for the following Tuesday. (Win.)

Next, came the question of what to wear. I didn't want us to look uniform but I'm too much of a control freak not to at least be coordinated. My husband had the great idea to wear flannel shirts, which was genius. Thankfully, Old Navy is clutch. We made a quick trip the night before the shoot and $30 later, we were "ready."

The day of the shoot, everything started beautifully. Kelsey took her time and talked us through props and some of the shots she had in mind. She even had toys and Cheez-Its on hand for Lincoln, and was patient as I nursed. Things quickly took a turn for the worst when Ellis unloaded a massive poop 20 minutes in. I stopped to change and nurse him, but he cried at regular intervals for the rest of the shoot. Then of course Lincoln had his own meltdown down halfway through and had to be bribed with fruit snacks. Musa and I tag teamed on the kids the best we could, switching off depending on who was in the shot. By the time we were done three hours later, we were all hangry (short for hungry + angry) and drained.

That evening, I held my breath nervously waiting for Kelsey to send a few sneak peak photos. When the first batch came by text, I was sincerely blown away. They were perfect. Don't get me wrong. It was all there. The tears and the tantrums. The meltdowns. The awkwardness and youthful rebellion. But also the genuine happiness. The togetherness. Us. She had beautifully captured "us."

Since we didn't get around to sending out Christmas cards this year, I'm sharing a few of the photos we loved most. Surprisingly, many of my favorites are include Ellis crying or Lincoln doing something weird and awkward because he simply can't resist.

I'm reminded as I reflect on the whole experience, that the first Christmas was anything but picture perfect. Jesus came because of our ugly sin. His unwed, virgin mother became society's outcast. There was no room in the inn. Heaven met earth one starry night in the most unsanitary place there is - a barn. And yet all the perfection we need lay there swaddled in a manger.

So if you're broken this Christmas, or if you've lost a loved one, or if your Christmas dinner doesn't turn out how you planned, or if you aren't the recipient of thoughtful gifts you love, or God forbid your kids are ungrateful, remember: the joy of Christmas is that this life is imperfect. But Christ. Merry Christmas, dear friends.