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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....

In Sorrow: He is good.

I'm out of the gym and fighting this cold, swaying wall, snowflakes falling thick and sticking on my clothes. And I realize it then, as a weight bears me down inside with the loss of a loved one. While my heart aches, nothing else is pulled sagging. I look back on the faithfulness of God lifting me up. He's let me feel to learn how to love, but hasn't let break. And I know this indescribable peace. It comes to the eve of one more day of books, deadlines and lectures for this week, and all I can whisper to my weeping heart is: He is good.

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