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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....

Playing Favourites

“You’re not my favourite lifeguard anymore, Kate,” he says to me with a grin.

I raise an eyebrow at him and shrug.

The kids love playing favourites with whoever has the biggest candy stash in their locker or lets them get away with the most.

Even careless words can be weapons and I catch myself looking at my reflection in the rear-view mirror on the drive home from work and feeling sorry for myself. Surely, I’m someone’s favourite.

Dusk descends over the deep green fields of corn and wheat; its beauty contrasts with my pride.

Who is my favourite? Christ or myself?

The comparison is ludicrous. Christ to be subject of my thoughts!

By the time I pull onto my gravel lane-way, I’m brandishing joy. 

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