Known in the Unknown

Article by Kelley Mathews

This article was adapted from a recent post on The Estuary.

It’s still New Year’s Day as I perch the laptop on my knees and attempt to organize my thoughts. My family and I spent our holiday week traveling, reacquainting ourselves with extended family and old friends. We’ve enjoyed such cross-country trips many times over the last 25 years, but this one hit differently.

2024 brought a steady stream of changes to my family that felt more like the waves we encountered on the Oregon beach this summer—wild, rough, anticipated yet often unpredictable, and beautiful. If we had been so foolish as to stand in the frigid water close enough for waves to reach us, they would have knocked us off our feet. The more I consider the metaphor, the more fitting it feels.

A Metaphor for My Year

2024 pushed me into the surf to experience one wave after another. We threw more parties in 2024 than any other year I can remember—graduations, wedding, goodbyes. But we also dealt with more stress than I can remember—job interviews, job offer, graduations, house selling, wedding, goodbyes, moving, job loss, new community. . .

New can be exciting, but a lot of new can be overwhelming. At least that’s what I’m finding. Sometimes I feel like the unseen undertow is trying to upend me. Sneaky grief is the worst culprit. As much as I enjoy new adventures, I’m attached to my friends and family, and living away from them is tough. Sunday mornings are the hardest, as we continue looking for a new church home. Ugh. I’m considering setting myself up as an LLC for my freelance editing work. Or should I look for a remote position in publishing? 🤷🏻‍♀️ So many unknowns.

2025 will bring more “new”—though I’ve put in a request for fewer radical life changes, ha.

New can be exciting, but a lot of new can be overwhelming.

Kelley Mathews

Not Overcome

For all the waves of change that crashed over me, I never felt in danger.

Uneasy, yes.

Challenged, yes.

Tired, oh yes.

But never hopeless, unable to function, or powerless to press forward. Why? Because I was always tethered to the Rock of Ages. Even if the undertow took me down, it wouldn’t last long. I am held fast by my Father, secure in my Savior’s love, and buoyed by the Spirit’s constant presence with me. When people asked me how I handled all the craziness of last year, all I could say was “Day by day?” I don’t have a great answer for how I made it through, because in my own strength I would have been a wreck.

I just held on for dear life. I knew Jesus would see me through each day of waiting, of working, of grieving. Being anchored in Christ is my ultimate security when the sands of life shift under my feet. As Hebrews 13:8 reminds us, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” In my doctoral class this fall, we studied the gospels, so I was constantly reminded of Jesus’s love, grace, truth, goodness, and faithfulness while he walked the earth. He’s still all of those things!

Being anchored in Christ is my ultimate security when the sands of life shift under my feet.

kelley mathews

Christmas is over, but the gift of this past week remains. It was as if God knew—of course he did—that I needed to be with people who know me. Yes, we are looking forward, living in a new community where we are all working to find our place and our people. But this holiday vacation hit differently for me because it was a respite—a break from the new, a chance to be enveloped in family that has known me from the beginning, to be reunited with our friends we’ve done life with for decades.

It’s good to rest, and to know you are known.

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