I’ve been thinking about New Year’s Resolutions.
I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions, because the only thing consistent about my resolutions is that I fail at them. The way I see it, if you want to make a commitment or a change big enough to stick to it – make it. Don’t wait for some magical date to make it happen, because time is just an arbitrary concept imposed by humans in an attempt to make sense of the world anyway.
But I can see the appeal. New Year, New You and all the that. The option of a blank slate is so tantalizing because dang, do I need it. And that notion – this is the year! This can be the year you change everything! Just wake up tomorrow to a fresh start, whole new person whole new life! – oh, there are things I’d like to erase. If I had it my way, I’d probably scrub at least a good 25% of my life away. Bad decisions, loneliness, emotional trauma I probably could have avoided.
I could use a new me new life, because I keep screwing up this one. But that’s the beauty of the cross, isn’t it? I am constantly, slowly being made new in His image.
Slowly. Really slowly. Reaaaallllly slowly. At least, that’s how it feels most days.
So this year, as per usual, I’m not making any New Year’s Resolutions. (I am, however, doing a OneWord this year. I’ll blog about it…soon. ish.) 2013 has already come without me making up a list of things that I will change and fix and do better, because everything about me that needs to be changed and fixed and better – please, like I could do that on my own. No, all of the fixing needs to be done by someone much greater than I.
In a way, I guess you could say I’m making resolutions, setting goals for the next year, but I prefer not to look at that way. It sounds so incredibly self-sufficient and strong and UNGHHH-y. And I am so far from that. There are so many words: plan and goal and “I want to” and “I will” but really they all fall short so let’s just call them my hopes.
I hope to live this next year with arms wide open. With a heart full of love, ready to pour out onto anyone who comes near enough to let me hug them. With total surrender of myself, or at least total surrender of a tiny bit more of myself, and a little bit more dependence on the Lord.
It’s going to be an adventure, and I’m terrified and thrilled and nowhere near ready, but maybe by the time this year ends I’ll be ready for it.
(by the way, I apparently can’t blog without tea and John Mark McMillan. #clichechristianbloggerproblems)