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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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Heaviness and Hope

I sit on the floor, eating cheese, on a Saturday afternoon. It feels like someone is holding me down and sitting on my heart.

Heavy.

I scroll through a two-page document I typed a few hours earlier with Scriptural proof about why we should enjoy life.

But all I can think about is Job, scraping his boils with bits of glass.

And Solomon, gazing at the beauty of his wives, playing with the golden rings on his hand, and whispering, “Meaningless.”

Paul, writing the Philippians and going back-and-forth in his mind. I want to die. I should live. I want to die. I should live.

I go outside and the snow drenches me.

The sun is shining somewhere else. All I can think is that it’s somewhere else.

Why are there days like this?

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” (Psalm 42:11)

There are. 

But there is another Day too.

“Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” (Psalm 42:11)

And Hope always exists.

It’s a paradox I can’t wrap my brain around as I listen to sad songs on a Saturday afternoon.

When Joy shows up.

In the middle of sadness.

And Joy carries the heavy burden.

 “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

Until all I can think about is Job bowing before the Lord at the news of his children’s death.

And Solomon, realizing that the purpose of life doesn’t lie in gold, but in obedience to God.

And Paul, recognizing that life is Christ and death--death is gain.

Hope (+Sadness) = Joy

In prison. In pain. In death.

Joy.






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