2024 in Review
By God’s grace, I made it to see the last month of 2024. Here’s a glimpse into what this past year looked like for me:
1. This year, my relationship with the Lord flourished
My verse for 2024 was Exodus 33:18. I didn’t know what to expect when the Lord initially gave it to me. Now, at the end of the year, I have a degree of understanding.
Requesting to see glory is costly. 2024 was costly. I had to sacrifice a lot. I was pruned. Things were cut. Intense sanctification had to take place. I needed to be consecrated. I had to deny myself more. I had to surrender more. I did all kinds of fasts this year—partial, Daniel, liquid, water, you name it. I fasted more frequently than ever before.
Climbing up the crevice of the rock and positioning yourself to see the Lord’s glory pass by is not an easy endeavor. But the fruit makes it all worth it. Because of all I’ve experienced this year, I’ve come to know Him as Abba and I’m more comfortable approaching Him as such. Prior to 2024, I only knew Him as Savior and Lord. Due to my father wounds, it was hard for me to consider Him a Father— at least not the type of Father the scriptures claim He is.
2024 proved all the claims true.
I long for His presence so much more. I’ve developed an ardent hunger for His voice and His heart. The blessing of His hand no longer matters as much as it used to. The determination of my heart became this: when He gives, glory to Him; when He withholds, glory to Him. That’s still my perfect, good, loving, and faithful Abba through it all.
Our relationship is uniquely beautiful. I know how He speaks, I’ve felt His manifest presence, and I’m maturing in hatred for what He hates and love for what He loves. I genuinely take pleasure in His company as I would in the company of a friend or family member.
Of course, each level of ascent was met with another level of warfare. The enemy hates the earnest pursuit of the Lord. But the joke’s on him. Every flaming arrow, every attack, the mental torment—all of it brought me closer to my Abba. This year, I scaled the valleys with joy—trusting that the Lord was still tracing my steps. The heartache, disappointment, regret, insecurity, frustration, failure, etc., illuminated new facets of God’s character and love. There were still some dramatic temper tantrums. There were still countless tears. There were still sleepless nights. There were still days when all I could do was rot on my couch. Nonetheless, the Bible says “count it all joy.” It doesn’t say I have to “feel joy.” I rebounded each time by counting the attacks as joy.
I’m looking forward to how my relationship with the Lord evolves in 2025.
2. This year, I relaunched Gracefully Jenny
Gracefully Jenny was given to me in May of 2020 but I was a terrible steward of it. In December of 2023, the Lord commanded me to bring it back. Alongside that command came the significant weight of eternal responsibility.
This time around, I had more of a grasp on who the Lord was. Therefore, I held His words to a higher regard. I had the awareness that Gracefully Jenny didn’t belong to me, it belonged to the Lord. If He’s asking me to relaunch at this specific point in history, then there is glory to be revealed. To a God who methodically operates in times and seasons, my simple obedience is consequential. He wouldn’t make a useless ask. Every single word that escapes the mouth of God holds value. Given that His words created our very universe, I carry the conviction that the Lord doesn’t waste words.
So I said, “Yes.”
I showered the relaunch in fierce prayer. I fasted for the first forty days of 2024 and transformed my apartment into a sanctuary. Partnering with the Holy Spirit, I designed the website and revamped the Instagram page. I wrote “Ayekah,” “The Promise,” and “Mount Moriah” during those forty days. On the last day of the fast, I hosted a prayer night with my closest girlfriends. We worshipped and engaged Heaven. We chased after the heart of the Lord concerning this ministry. They prophesied over me, encouraged me, and commissioned me. The following day, Gracefully Jenny went public for the second time.
It has been such an interesting journey. In only a year, I’ve been stretched in so many different ways. I’ve uncovered my calling and the lane the Lord has carved out specifically for me. It’s also been especially wonderful learning how close the Lord holds this ministry to His chest.
Each post has its own distinctive birth story. Some were the overflow of my personal study time while others were the product of random 3 AM wake-up calls from the Lord. The Holy Week series, for example, came after a full night of tossing and turning. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep. At first, I resisted the possibility that the Holy Spirit was summoning me to pray. Once I finally stopped being hard-headed and prayed, the Lord’s instructions began to rush in. He led me to several scriptures and imparted the message He wanted to convey. His instructions were very specific—down to the titles and the order in which they would be released. As soon as He finished disclosing all this to me, He commissioned me. Early the next morning, I began writing.
The Holy Week series remains one of the hardest tasks I’ve ever executed as it relates to ministry in general. I was commissioned to draft four blog posts on a Monday night and was expected to begin releasing them that same Friday—proofread, edited, and polished in 3 days. And those blog posts weren’t short. Couple that with all my other responsibilities—it drained me. But the experience showed me, without a shadow of a doubt, that I NEED the Lord. I am weak and inefficient without Him. There’s never going to be enough in me.
That’s just one example out of many.
While Yahweh gets ALL the glory, I want to take time to thank you all as well—my readers. Before any blog post goes up, I wake up at the crack of dawn to pray. I spend the majority of that time praying for you all. I pray over your hearts. I pray over your minds. I pray the Lord equip me to be the best possible messenger to you. I thank the Lord for you. I pray that I may be a conduit of blessing in your lives. The Lord is mindful of you all. He’s trusted me with you all. He saw you all when He ordered me to relaunch this blog. I don’t take that lightly.
So, what’s next for Gracefully Jenny?
First, I’d like to announce that I have officially deactivated the designated Gracefully Jenny Instagram account. The Lord has asked that I move forward in ministry as me, Jenny Dorlus. The GJ Instagram page was first created in 2020 in an attempt to separate what God was doing in me from how I wanted to be publicly perceived. Behind that Instagram page was the residue of pride and shame—neither of which can cross over into 2025. Gracefully Jenny is part of me. It’s a calling I can no longer hide from.
Secondly, I will be hosting my first in-person event on February 22, 2025! This event is the first of many others (the Lord has made that abundantly clear). 2025 will require me to crucify my introversion and step out of my comfort zone. Hiding behind words on a screen is no longer an option for me. So, stay tuned! If you haven’t already, subscribe to my newsletter to be the first to receive any announcements.
In conclusion, Gracefully Jenny is just another crown to cast. The expansion of this assignment is meaningless in comparison to the grandeur of the God it belongs to. In the new year—as in the past year— the Lord can do whatever He wants to do with it. I won’t stand in His way.
3. This year, I TURNED TWENTY-SIX
In preparation for year twenty-six, I spent a lot of time reflecting on year twenty-five—the highs, lows, accomplishments, failures, and everything in between. It was very sobering.
Year twenty-five was a year of intense sowing. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. On October 21, 2023, I decided that twenty-five would be a year of surrender. When people asked me whether I had expectations/goals for the year, I said, “no” every time. I resolved within myself that I would allow the Lord to dictate what twenty-five looked like. I vowed to plunge a dagger into the chest of my autonomy without secretly hoping for a ram in the thicket. The Lord definitely tested that decision.
Placing yourself on the altar isn’t fun. It’s not glamorous. The smell of burning flesh stinks. Blood being poured out is messy. In the beginning, lying there brings incredible back pain. But as time progresses, you’ll notice a partial or complete loss of smell. The blood splatter all around you no longer fazes you. Your body adjusts to the pain. You begin to adapt to the environment of self-sacrifice. It becomes routine. Your mind is trained to search for more to offer; simply because it has become part of your lifestyle. Soon enough, you’re offering more than you thought you ever would or could. However, just because it becomes routine doesn’t mean it becomes easier. The larger the offering, the more assistance you’ll need to carry it into the inner courts of the tabernacle.
I had to drastically increase the intensity of my prayer life. There were many nights when I chose prayer over sleep and prayed through the entire night. I became radically desperate for the Holy Spirit’s strength. As the Holy Spirit does, He supplied strength and then some. He fine-tuned my hearing, He removed the scales from my eyes, and He filled me with Himself.
I wholeheartedly believe that year twenty-six will be a year of harvest solely because of all I sowed in year twenty-five. Even if it doesn’t look like what I anticipate, I trust that the God who delights in the incense of the altar will reward my sacrifices in whatever way He deems fit.
4. This year, I cultivated covenant friendships
What can I say about the friends I’m leaving 2024 with? I owe them so much. They’ve loved on me, cared for me, embraced my wild emotions, corrected me, prayed for me, locked arms around me, celebrated me, supported me, cheered me on, made sacrifices for me—all the things. The Lord has used them to reveal how much He loves me. I’m thankful He knows me well enough to know exactly who I need around me. I couldn’t have possibly prayed for the people He’s blessed me with.
There were several challenges this year as it pertains to friendships. As the Lord refined and purified me, He also refined and purified my relationships. That looked like closing the door on old relationships and leaning on my discernment when welcoming new ones. It meant having several uncomfortable conversations and maintaining my boundaries. It meant periods of solitude. However, it was all worth it. The covenant friendships I have now are sacred to me. They have bore such lovely fruit.
In 2025, my goal is to be more intentional. I never want my friends to doubt my sincere gratitude. I want them to know how much I appreciate them. I want to be diligent and disciplined in how pray for them. I want to be more purposive in how I show up for them. I want to be more attentive to their needs. I want to sound more like Jesus in the way that I speak to them. I want to discover the Lord’s intent in bringing me into their lives and to function in that role to the best of my ability.
5. This year, I became more involved with my local church
In 2024, I did the one thing I said I would never do again—I became a youth ministry servant. However, what I used to view in contempt in other spaces, I now love at my current place of worship. I believe this change of heart goes hand-in-hand with the fact that I gained a deeper revelation of the Lord this year. I’ve always felt called to the next generation but the way I served was works-based rather than graced-based. I exalted my efforts and talents above the souls of those I served. I strived a lot. I was fixated on the outward appearance of the ministry rather than its internal and eternal impact.
All of that changed this year.
Whenever I was scheduled to serve my church’s youth, I would wake up and cry. The tears weren’t because I didn’t want to serve but because I felt the heaviness of the Holy Spirit. I felt the weight of the calling. Over time, I developed the Father’s heart for our youth. The mere thought of standing between them and the Lord brought me to my knees. Serving them pushed me to be more dependent on the Lord. I never wanted to show up as someone I was not. I didn’t want to misrepresent Jesus to young minds that were still discovering Him. I didn’t want to learn who they were through my flesh or my understanding. I intentionally sought the Lord for insight into how they were designed. I asked Him to teach me how to interact with them. I asked Him to be with me each Sunday. I begged to look more like Jesus—not for myself but for them.
In 2025, I can’t wait to witness how the next generation grows in Christ.
This year, I also developed a greater appreciation for the local church. The Lord situated me at my church for a reason. He needed me to serve there but also wanted to pour into me there. Every season I walked through this year ran parallel to the seasons the church went through. Every sermon had elements of prophecy. Worship always revived my heart.
There’s beauty in being plugged into a local body. There’s a blessing attached to being consistent in attending a local gathering. There’s safety in having pastors and leaders who know your name and cover you.
I can’t wait to witness how my church continues to grow in the new year.
6. This year, I experienced professional growth
There’s not much to say about this besides the fact that I’m grateful to the Lord. I live an incredibly flexible life. My salary covers all my needs. I’m not experiencing any of the horrors I experienced at my last job. I’m comfortable and at peace.
When I compare how I began the year with how I’m ending the year, I can say that I’m more confident. I’m more reassured of myself. I stride into rooms I used to tremble in. I’ve grown as a leader. I think more creatively. I problem-solve more efficiently. I’m able to articulate my needs more effectively. I’ve been given great opportunities like traveling to different cities for conferences.
All in all, glory to God. He’s prepared an enjoyable place for me.
I’m not sure what’s next for me professionally, but my future is laid at the altar—the safest place it can be.
In the new year, I want what the Lord wants for me. I’ve committed to the Lord that I’ll bring my best to every room as His representative but I will lay down all semblances of striving.
Honorable mention: This year, I found a therapist
I wanted to work on my emotional and mental health this year. It’s something I’ve said in past years but never put the effort to do. I wanted 2024 to be different.
The Lord blessed me with an amazing therapist. She’s a believer and seeks the Holy Spirit before giving me any advice. She’s a black woman. She prays with me at the beginning of every session. She’s the answer to silent prayers. She was the first therapist I had a consultation with during my search. She accepts my insurance. There isn’t even a co-payment which means each session is free. She’s also a leader at her local church.
I had no idea what to look for so I’m glad I have an Abba who decided I didn’t have to. She’s helped me identify and work on so many things. She’s brought to light weaknesses and strengths I couldn’t see. With her guidance, I’ve grown so much.
Currently, I meet with her weekly. By this time next year, I hope to have graduated to bi-weekly sessions.
There are so many more blessings between the lines of what I’ve listed. The Lord has been so good. And He will continue to be good in 2025. Because of His immutability, I’m entering the new year confident and hopeful. As the Omega and Finisher, He has already seen what’s ahead. As the Alpha and the Author, He walks with me in the present. He’s written out my story with my good in mind. So before the clock strikes midnight on December 31st, I will sing for joy, I will lift songs of thanksgiving and praise, and I will dance in expectancy.
There is far greater ahead.
