Every year between Christmas and New Year’s, I start to feel panicky. I can hear January lacing up her Nikes, and I know she’s coming for me. GO AWAY! WE WERE ALL HAVING SO MUCH FUN UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP. I’m afraid of her because I think she’s mean and will knock these Christmas cookies out of my hands and make me eat fistfuls of lettuce instead. I turned off the lights, and I’m pretending no one is home, but MAN she is persistent. It must be the endorphins. JANUARY, GET YOUR GIANT LIST OF GOALS OUT OF MY FACE BECAUSE IT’S BLOCKING MY VIEW OF THE HALLMARK CHANNEL.Read More
All our attempts to celebrate New Year’s Eve fell through, so a friend suggested we just celebrate later and call it “Happy Old Year" party. I am VERY into parties that have a dash of strangeness to them, and this excites me more than if our plans had worked out.
It also made me chuckle because it seemed like a nudge of God’s elbow, him once again, in a season of newness, drawing me back to oldness. In church New Year's Eve morning, I kept thinking over and over again how for me, in this season, I do not believe God is calling me to anything new. I think he’s calling me to something old, something eternal.Read More
Annually, I lament the absurdity of following sugary sweet and cuddly December with January's VERY HIGH BAR for all things. The resolutions, the meal-planning, the budgeting, the fitness, the vegetables—I can't take it! I miss you, December!
I only partially mean it. Fresh starts are fun. New Year's Resolutions are noble. But something about January's brand of hustle irks me a bit, and this year I finally figured it out: the things we start must be rooted in Jesus's finished work on the cross. Anything else is asking a goal to be a god.
(Audio file included!)Read More