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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....

Turkey Pondering

It’s the weekend of stuffed turkeys, potatoes, and gravy on full-length tables.

On Sunday, we get home from the grocery store. She leans on the kitchen counter. “I just don’t get how we can go to church and then walk right by the homeless man outside the grocery store.”

I’m too tired, too caught up in my own life to listen. But, it rings in my mind all week.

I drive back to the farm for the weekend and stomp through the bush with some boys wearing camouflage. Peace envelops and I praise Him.

There are no homeless people on my road, but there are hurting people at my table. Tired people. Broken people. Lost people.

All of us in need of the cross.

And I can share more than just food. 

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