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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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Defender of my Faith.

I’ve sat in my fair share of church pews.

I’ve heard 1000 hours of sermons.

Sermons on how to fight the good fight. To put on the breastplate of righteousness. To take up the sword of the Spirit.

How I must be prepared to give an answer. To pick up my cross.

And midway through a full week of work. A week of feeling like I’m the only Christian in the office, in the country, in the universe.

Midway through the week, I cry out in frustration to God. Frustrated that I’m an anomaly. My whole worldview is insane in the eyes of everyone I see on a daily basis.

Wouldn’t it be easier to blend, to mix? Wouldn’t it be convenient to believe that everything is true, everyone is right? That morality changes based on whoever I’m hanging out with on a Friday night.

And drowning in anxiety about defending Christ, I forget the words in the Psalms.

“The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2

I forget that any defense I could give is nothing compared to My Defender.

Here in my pathetic humanity, in my fear, in the middle of a week of failure. My God fights for me.

I forget the words of the Lord.

“I will go before you and make the rough places smooth; I will shatter the doors of bronze and cut through their iron bars.” Isaiah 45:2

I'm caught in fear of defending Him while He wrestles demons in the darkness as I sleep. He wages war against my lustful thoughts.

And He stands between me and Justice, interceding on my behalf, before a Holy God.

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” Romans 8:31

I forget that He does not need my defense.

But I need His.

I forget how He conquered sin and death. He, the Victorious, called it my victory. He, the Righteous, crowned me with righteousness.

He is the Defender of my Faith.

And midway through a long week of work, He turns my frailty into strength.

He goes before me, turning my enemies into corpses and my fear into faith.


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