As a new year gets underway, I scroll through the photo stream on my phone, reflecting. I do this every year, recording thoughts and memories as I remember. But even while my eyes see the happy highlights in the images on my phone, my mind remembers the things I didn't photograph, the life that happened between the pictures. Some of it wasn't too pretty.

We all have this in common: mixed in with the happy memories and good times of life are the sad moments we would rather forget. If everyone took pictures of the ugly parts of life, our photo libraries would contain plenty. Mine from last year would include an image of the creepy man who accosted me at the post office on my way to a birthday party. There would be pictures of me recovering from a debilitating back injury, gingerly preparing food for the Super Bowl. My birthday photos would show me caring for a loved one following his minor surgery, then crying while he suffered life-threatening surgery complications the following week.

Right on the heels of shots from a relaxing summer vacation, my phone would have images of the final weeks of my mother-in-law's life. Thanksgiving pictures would show family gatherings, but with my parents absent from the scene, stuck at home with COVID, and my husband stranded far from home due to a canceled flight.

And scattered throughout all the year’s photos would be images of me, struggling against my human nature.

As Christians, how do we process life's low points, including those that are self-inflicted? Should we ignore them? Or worse, recall them with only bitterness and regret? Though we may have no doubt about our salvation and eternal life as Christians, do we subconsciously believe that we just have to “get through” life’s difficulties, finding happiness wherever we can find it until then? Perhaps we worry that allowing ourselves to reflect thoughtfully on life’s hardest moments might lead us to conclude that it’s all pointless.

That's how some atheists view the world: as a journey without purpose or meaning. Here is what several self-professed atheists said about the meaning of life in an online interview*:

"All I know is we're here, and we might as well not have a horrible time if we can help it. I'm just squeezing as much happiness out of it as I can."

"The pointlessness of life is not a thing to be overcome. It's something to be celebrated because that's all there is."

"Yes, of course, I know that life is without meaning or purpose, but the trick is not to wake up every morning and feel that way. Cognitive dissonance? Embrace it."

As Christians, are we viewing our lives through the same lens as those who do not believe in God? Are we forgetting that our faith in Christ makes a difference in how we experience life and how we interpret and share our stories? Along with our refusal to remember hardships are we also forgetting God’s benefits?

When I allow myself time to reflect, my first inclination is to remember with a secular lens rather than a faith-based one. The outcome of recalling the past through a worldly lens is a sense of futility and resignation, the same feelings conveyed by the atheists in their quotes. Interpreting life through faith in Christ requires intention – choosing to look beyond the surface to uncover God's promises, provision, and presence in those memories. It may even require prayerful discernment.

Putting it another way, author and theologian Frederick Buechner describes this kind of reflection as listening to your life to uncover God's footsteps within it. When we become Christians, we aren't just given future salvation but also present gifts through the Holy Spirit. These gifts are free; we don't do anything to get them; we only receive them. So, although being a Christian does not offer immunity from the hardships common to humanity, believers have the help of God in all circumstances. Viewing events through a God lens and seeing these benefits, all chapters in our stories take on a hopeful and redemptive hue.

In the Bible, the apostle Paul describes the difference God makes in the day-to-day life of believers this way: We can be hard-pressed on every side but not crushed. Perplexed but not in despair. Struck down but not destroyed. We don't lose heart because God inhabits our hearts through Christ. We always carry around the death of Christ so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our bodies. (2 Corinthians 4:8-10)

With this in mind, I looked back on last year’s hardships, those memories not captured on my phone, and I listened for God's footsteps. Would I hear them or only the hopeless medley of the atheist I once was?

Starting at the beginning of the year and allowing my mind to slowly work through the worst days, His footprints began to emerge all over my story. I recognized how God calmed my anxious thoughts about the future when it seemed my back would never heal. He helped me return to Him again and again when I went my own way or said things I regretted.

I remembered how God often surprised me with peace when chaos and even death surrounded me. Like the night he comforted me at my dining room table as I cried over loved ones who were in the hospital. Several times, when I felt hopelessness tugging at me, God gave me an inexplicable sense of hope. As my mother-in-law was dying, I felt His presence with us as we stood around her hospital bed and I think she did as well. The last thing she said was, "What is that light?"

Taking the time to look for God in our stories matters tremendously because His presence and work in our hearts and circumstances is where we find all meaning and purpose. It reminds us that we have been given gifts to navigate, endure, and flourish because of the Holy Spirit in us. Remembering these gifts stirs gratitude.

Seeing our stories as part of His bigger story also builds faith and grows our trust in Him. But the practice of remembering God’s work in our lives is not just for personal gain. Paul alluded to this in the 2nd Corinthians verse referenced above: we tell of His work in our lives so that Christ may be revealed to others. It’s one way we reflect His light into the darkness, or “bear witness.”

Not sharing how God impacts our daily lives is a wasted opportunity to love. Recalling our stories without acknowledgement of how faith in Christ made a difference may obscure God's faithfulness to us, discourage other believers, and weaken the power of our witness. Telling our stories with the same cynicism as the world makes it hard for others to see the hope we profess; it can even be a form of unbelief – denying in practice the truth we preach as Christians.

So, let's not shy away from reflection, but instead, take time to process all the events of our lives through the lens of our faith in Christ, looking for His footsteps. Once we see them, we can share them with joy, hope, and assurance. This is how we bring glory to God, whose great love is the story of our lives. It’s the story the world desperately needs to hear.

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*Chivers, Tom, Editor. “I Asked Atheists How They Find Meaning in a Purposeless Universe.” Buzzfeed.com, 11 Aug. 2015, https://www.buzzfeed.com/tomchivers/when-i-was-a-child-i-spake-as-a-child.