write
The irony of 2016 has not escaped me. I have felt both pure, uninhibited joy and debilitating grief. I have laughed until I cried; and cried until I couldn’t breathe.
I rang in 2016 with all the excitement and expectation of what the year would bring. It was a year of baseball, band, basement renovation, back surgery, a new job, and new school. There were moments of celebration, deeply spiritual growth, forging of new friendships and deepening of others.
But it has also been a year of agonizing sorrow. The hospitalization of our son, the death of my grandmother, relationships shattered, broken bones and broken hearts. This year has relentlessly tested and shook the very foundation of my faith, family, marriage and friendships; and has left me feeling hopeless.
Hopeless. Not an adjective I think anyone that knows me would ever use to describe me. In fact, I’m usually the overly annoying optimist. What a departure from my character. How depressing.
I suppose that is why I am not looking forward to celebrating on New Year’s Eve. The countdown to a new, promised better year. The reflection on the past year. The champagne toasts, noise makers, confetti and singing “Auld Lang Syne”… especially singing that song. It all seems almost cruel. Because the problems we are facing now don’t suddenly vanish once the clock strikes midnight on January 1. It’s the same crap, just a different day, with some disillusionment sprinkled in that all will be better THIS year.
I don't believe I'm alone in some of these sentiments. New Year's Eve can be a difficult night for many, for a multitude of reasons. Trying to make peace with the past, while the uncertainty of the future still looms, can be daunting.
But, in an earnest effort to try to embrace this New Year, because it’s coming whether we are ready or not, I’ve come up with some resolutions. They aren’t the traditional ‘lose weight’, ‘eat healthy’, ‘spend more time with family’. But they are, nonetheless, my focus for 2017:
Hope
My hope comes from only one source. One who loved me while I was still a sinner. One who loves me while I am still a sinner. One who gave His life for me, because He thought I was worth it. This truth is where I find my hope. Therefore I resolve when I am surrounded in darkness, can’t breathe or feel hopeless; I will always turn to and lean on Jesus to be the light for me. To be my #hope.
Self-Love
Loving others has always come easy to me. I truly care about people, and often give every part of my heart to others in my life. Some may say that leaves me more vulnerable, but it’s just how I am wired. However, finding that level of self-love has never been easy. I tend to see and focus on my flaws, my imperfections. The tape in my mind tells me “You’re not worthy. You’re not loved. You’re not worth it.” Therefore I resolve to fight these lies with self-love, to be kinder and more forgiving of myself. To practice #self-love
Truth
In youth ministry, there is a popular skit called “The Mask”. It depicts a teenager picking up and wearing different ‘masks’ dependent upon the situation or who they are around. It’s about the struggle we all go through in knowing our authentic selves and being comfortable in showing the world who we are, all the time. Knowing and understanding our personal truth is hard. It’s mostly beautiful, but can be messy and ugly at times too. Therefore I resolve to always walk in not only His truth, but my truth, no matter where that leads or how messy it gets. To walk in #truth all the time.
I have mixed feelings about saying goodbye to 2016, and welcoming in 2017. And I really just want to sleep through the ball drop. But as I focus on #hope, #selflove and #truth, I’m mildly optimistic that the darkness will eventually fade and in its place, leave behind peace and happiness.
Wishing this for all of you as well.
