In the early hours of January 1, I sat alone on an empty Go train on my way into a shift at the hospital for work. It was just me, my reflection in the windows against the dark sky, and a journal I brought to pen my thoughts for the end of the year. I was in the beginning of what would be one of the most painful and emotionally draining seasons of my life and I had no idea. I wanted to wrap 2019 around with a neat little bow and lean forward with hopeful expectation into the year ahead, believing that 2020 would be the year everything came together for me. I penned in big letters the word faithfulness, which later came to be far more profound than I could have known in that moment.