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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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Frigid Waters and the Battle Between Flesh and Soul

It scares me the way he talks about the Christian life.

Like when we run down to the beach in the middle of March. I watch two of my friends sprint past me and into the frigid Great Lake, chunks of ice still layered across the shoreline.

I dip my toes into the water and watch.

It’s polarizing.

Because I want to jump in the water too.

But it’s frigid.

It scares me the way he talks about the Christian life.

A life set apart. Offered up.

That’s what I want: to be immersed. Fully His. Brought under the water. Raised up to new life.

But the water is frigid.

I want increased sensitivity to His mercy, to His goodness, to His grace.

But I dread the waking up of my senses.

I want closeness with God.

But not the sacrifice of holiness.

I want the Spirit inside me.

But not His whispers of conviction.

I want Christ.

But I also want my life.

It’s polarizing.

Because I forget reality. The path is wide. Or narrow. And I can only choose one.

I’ve made my choice.

And like that, in the middle of March, I charge into the frigid water.

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” Matthew 7:13-14

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