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How to have a truly happy new year.

For the first time in years, I don’t remember my New Year’s resolution from January. Usually, I write it down in my journal or on a note I stick to my mirror. There’s been many of those dog-eared sticky notes from years past. The year of contentment. Speaking life. We passed pancakes across the breakfast table on January 1st this year. “What do you want from 2018?” I can’t remember my answer. I know what I didn’t want though. I didn’t want to walk into her office and share the parts of my life I’m inclined to hide. I didn’t want to Facetime her the day after she delivered her baby that never breathed. I didn’t want to spend four months wondering how I’d walk into her house on Christmas day and see her empty chair. I didn’t want to go on another first date that led nowhere. We sit across from each other in a little coffee shop in Colorado, picking at a charcuterie board. “When I think about all of the things I have left to go through,” her voice cracks....

Obedience to the Still Small Voice

She wasn't Christian on the way to the Celestial Citizen or anything. She was just hunched over, with a hockey bag on her back. The wind sunk its hungry jaws into our flesh as I passed her on the sidewalk. I slowed.   Why would Jesus want me to go back to help her? I turned and faced the rain.
"You okay with that?"
"Oh yeah. I just have to go to the lights."
"Still that's far!"
"Yeah. I'll be okay."
Why did I need to turn? I didn't share the gospel or anything. The rain spat its fury in my face. It is not for me to question why, but to obey and trust. Could not Jesus lift the burden without one word from my lips?

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