Another year down — another begins anew. January 1st is a fresh start rife (and ripe) with possibility. It makes me think of a snow-covered field with me in the middle and endless white, untrampled snow in every direction. And though I’m not sure which direction is best, it’s still exciting to have my pick of any way to go!
2012 was pretty awfsome (equal parts awful and awesome): I finally started blogging (yay!) and The Twin and I started our own business (Yay!), but there was death to contend with and hateful people (myself included) and a job that constantly stretches me beyond my limits.
Do you know which Christmas song resonated with me most this year? O Holy Night. Particularly that one line that says “a weary world rejoices.” That one chord strikes me as particularly true whenever I hear it. I always repeat it to myself: “yes! the world is weary.” And I am weary.
Weary is that word that captures dissatisfaction, fatigue, impatience, and exhaustion into one and I am all of these things. It isn’t my job or life that I am weary of though. I am weary of my myself. I don’t have problems, I am the problem. Yikes!
I could stop here and dwell on myself, but the whole point of O Holy Night is that the weary world rejoices! I recognize the problem but the solution has already been presented. Tired people can rejoice in the birth and ultimate death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Which means that I can dwell in possibility.
I won’t be looking back on the last year with regret or fondness. I won’t linger with the could haves or should haves. In the words of Paul, I’ll forget those things which are behind and press towards the mark of the high calling. I am excited to see what God has planned for me this year!
I’ll leave you with my favorite New Year’s quote by Neil Gaiman. Here’s to kissing someone who thinks you’re wonderful and surprising yourself!
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.