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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....

When the Storm Dies

I have too many headlines riding merry-go-rounds in my mind. My brain’s busy with bureaucracy that I’ve created for myself. So I take an hour on a Friday afternoon and run. Run west. Run south, gravel rolling loosely under my feet. Run past the gawking cattle. Raise a finger to the couple in the truck with the canoe. Run until my legs become so heavy that my head becomes light and the mind madness shifts east where I don’t follow. The last kilometre raises my eyes to the thick clouds and I’m grinning because it’s finished. Every last thought is taken captive like He’s raised His hands in the storm and calmly commanded: “Peace, be still.”

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