Sometimes you can still see the moon when it’s light outside. Sometimes dawn doesn’t quite chase all the dark away. And sometimes we have to look into our lives and realize that although our new season is still coming, it has not yet arrived.

I wanted to write some beautiful words about the end of a year being my change to leave things in 2015, to leave them behind, and the beginning of a completely new life and a new set of circumstances. I wanted to say that I am starting over this year and never looking back

However, that would be not only naive, it would be a lie.

The truth is, whatever season I’m in — the seeking and searching, the wandering and asking, this place of discernment — is not over yet. And there remains baggage on my shoulders and my heart, baggage I carry with me into the new year. I’m still shaky on my feet and trying to run a race I had no clue I was starting, still learning how to love myself and accept love.

The struggles I carry cannot be dropped with the toll of a bell — so rather than using this realization to refuse to move forward, I push on with the knowledge that the promise of a new season holds true.

I cannot leave my baggage at the door to a new year, and that’s okay. Because no matter how inadequate I feel among the victorious, cheery New Year’s posts, I am miles from my place at the end of last year, and I have fought like hell for every step. Though this journey, this season, is not over, there is unmistakeable progress.

I learned to leave situations that were dangerous for me — more so, I learned how to care for myself in the midst of hurt and confusion and loneliness.

I learned to accept community, to stop putting myself behind walls convinced that my secrets will chase the world away. I learned that sometimes you have to let someone take you by the hand and help you (okay, drag you kicking and screaming) out of the hole you’ve buried yourself in. Sometimes, you have to let yourself be found.

I learned about unconditional love and acceptance and that family is not always flesh and blood. I learned that in the eyes of love, I am not a problem or a poison, but a person with a heart and something to offer the world.

I learned that regardless of what people tell me, I am good at self-care. Whether that means drinking an extra cup of coffee or going home for 20 minutes to have quiet time, taking a power nap, or letting my friends remind me when I need to eat or take medicine, I have learned to surround myself with an environment in which I can do what’s good for me.

I learned that the simple difference between criticism and loving encouragement can turn a person’s life around, make a 21-year-old believe she can survive on her own (or skillfully clean a shower) and a 5-year-old face stage fright and sing in a Christmas program.

I learned that sometimes your friends have to pick you up, whether that means pulling you out of bed for the first time in days or picking you up from the side of the road when your car breaks down.

I started the last year believing my life was never going to change and being in terrifying dread of the coming days. I begin this year knowing how drastically my life has changed and how much it will continue to change in the next year.

And so, I welcome 2016 and I acknowledge that my journey continues slowly and steadily. Rather than mope in the darkness refusing to move, I light a candle, tighten the straps on the load on my back, and continue moving forward one step at a time.

I walk in the knowledge that a new season is coming.

I walk in the knowledge that I will find rest.

And I walk in the knowledge that I do not continue, that I will not finish this journey alone.

I will make it. And I keep my eyes forward, heartbreakingly grateful for every step along the way.