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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....
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Too Big to Fathom

This is when fragments shatter into grains of sand. I try for words, but they’ve lost their meaning. I’m grabbing at shapes and signs. She lies on her tummy in those plaid pajama pants, toes pointed to the ceiling. The fireplace dimly glows behind her. “Do you ever stop and really think about humans? Like, why did God create us?”

She nods at me, “Yeah.” She’s thought about this too, this smallness of life.

Where’d we get this idea that the universe revolves around us. Take a moment. Just step outside and watch the world spin. The cross is the center and God is bigger than anyone has ever known.

All this craziness is our confidence. We serve an awesome God.

That sickness is a flickering second against the black background of eternity. That sorrow is a shadow fading into the light of the endless past and future. The Alpha and Omega. That joy is nothing compared to what’s ahead in Christ Jesus.

This earth was in His plan. You were in His plan. Weigh that in your scale.


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