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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....

The Privilege of Worship

I lie flat against the barn roof, trying to ignore the single screw digging into my shoulder blade. I count stars until I’m absorbed in the Milky Way.

On a Sunday, I close my eyes and sing, “God you are my God. You’re glorious.”

God. You’re my God.

A moment of contentment.

I lay on the barn roof, sifting through layers of stars. It’s an honour just to see His handiwork with my own eyes.

Just to whisper praise for His name.

God you are my God.

The privilege of worship.

“I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.” Ps. 84:10


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