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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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When the Ocean Roars

I just watch him stand there, at the most easterly point in North America, as the waves of the Atlantic Ocean hurtle towards him and crash into the side of the rock where his feet are planted. He’s been glued there for who-knows-how-long. 

Other people wander down the path on the edge of the cliff, pause, and pause, and pause. It calls for pausing: the ocean stretched out before them and the waves strong enough to break us into pieces within seconds. We are all in awe.

“Wow, God,” I whisper over and over.

People keep walking down the path and pausing.

I see my friend take a seat on a flat rock and watch the waves churn. Later, she tells me her thoughts as she sat there and they almost match mine.

My Saviour made this.

The ocean roars the truth.

And every person, of every religion, race, and gender, stands on that cliff in total awe of what He has made. 

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