thirty-one: and the year is done
I used to view New Year’s as a fresh start. A clean state. A blank page. I used to. But I don’t anymore.
The New Year signifies the need to bust out a new calendar. It means I need to train my brain to write a new number when I jot down the date. It’s a reminder, like my birthday, that I’m another year older.
But it’s not a new beginning.
Not any more than any other day is.
I’m grateful for the newness in each morning. The fresh mercies that come with the sunrise. The everlasting arms that hug me awake. The clean-slate grace that meets me as I mumble my way out of bed. And the breath of life that’s breathed into me. Again.
This December thirty-one, I’m looking back at how far I’ve come He’s brought me. And I’m looking ahead to where He’ll take me tomorrow. And the day after that. And the one after that.
I don’t do resolutions, but I am doing something new this year. I’m writing an email to my future self which I’ll receive on New Year’s Eve 2009.
Why don’t you do it, too? A year from now you’ll be glad you did.
Happy New Year, friends.
thirty: years old
I turned thirty this year. Just typing it out loud makes me feel old. I know anyone older than me will shake their head and tell me that thirty isn’t old. But it is to me. Right now anyway.
While I’m not a “here’s a list of what I want to do before I’m 30″ kind of girl, I’m still not where I’d have wanted to be by now. I would have hoped that by this point in my life, I’d…
- exude more confidence.
- be an admirable wife.
- lead well.
- know how to trust.
- be ten pounds slimmer.
- have mastered a skill.
- enjoy praying more.
- know who I am.
Looking back over that list, at the prompting of a friend, I see how I’ve made progress in each of those things.
I speak with more conviction and carry myself more confidently than ever before. I’m actively taking steps to be a wife other women would want to emulate. I’m learning to lead with vulnerability.
Which means I’m discovering how to trust. Again.
I’ve made healthier choices for what I’m eating, and have committed to train for a 5K. Blogging has made me a better writer.
I’m at a unique place in my walk with God which, while it doesn’t always seem “strong”, is about me offering Him my brokenness. And as I get reacquainted with the strength of God perfected in my weakness, I am reminded of the simple truth of who I am: I am His.
So here I am, at the end of another year. A woman who’s not quite where she wants to be, but who’s choosing to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even if it’s only because she’s letting someone carry her. Or drag her.
I do still feel old, though. I think I need to go out for a drink.
Just so I can feel flattered when they card me.
twenty-nine: gifts
Here’s a thought:
We’re called to be like Him.
That means we need to be givers.
29Gifts challenges us to give away twenty-nine things in twenty-nine days. The gifts can be anything to anyone. They don’t need to cost you money, but they do need to cost you some heart.
Consider taking the challenge to intentionally give something away for twenty-nine days. I’d love to hear if you do it, and what sorts of things you choose to give.
I’m glad God gave me Himself. And I’m glad God gave me you.
twenty-eight: days and more
If you know much about me, you know I hate picking favorites.
And while I’m learning a lot about my need to assert myself more—even in simple things like what I want and like—I’m still not ready to declare anything an absolute favorite. I don’t know that I ever will.
So while these aren’t my favorites, some movies I absolutely love are:
- Charlie’s Angels (is it “the Chad”?)
- Finding Nemo
- 28 Days (look at my package!)
- You’ve Got Mail
- Father of the Bride 2 (every party has a pooper…)
- Up Close & Personal
- The Mexican (tit for tat, tat for tit, wah wah wah…)
- Oceans Eleven
- French Kiss (lactose intolerant!)
What are some of your favorite most loved movies?
twenty-seven: letters that spell hope
Over the past two years, God’s been repeatedly bringing something to the surface of my heart. It’s just a single word, but it holds such strong promise of hope for me.
Time and time again, it was in the forefront of my thoughts. I talked about it in my missions class; it came up in conversations; I emailed it to friends; I even wrote a blog post about it.
Shalom.
I grew up understanding that the word means peace. But last year I discovered that shalom means so much more. It means nothing missing, nothing broken. And those twenty-seven letters paint a picture of what God truly desires for me.
He wants every part of me to be whole. Complete. Satisfied.
That’s often so hard for me to believe because I don’t see it. I don’t feel it. But I know it’s true.
I wanted a visible reminder of that promise from God. I need to see it every day so I’ll remember that even when my life doesn’t reflect it, God is journeying me towards wholeness. Nothing missing, nothing broken.
So I got a permanent reminder.
I don’t think I’ll fully hold it in my hands this side of Heaven, but I’m seeking my shalom in Him.
twenty-six: hot butts
It’s sad, but true. Twenty-six people have found the Grit by searching for “hot butts”.
I said they found the Grit that way. Not me!
I need to work on that. I’m a little behind. (Ha!)
twenty-five: of december
This year, I’m struggling to find Christ in Christmas. Not in the “Of course He’s the reason for the season” kind of way, but in the “He’s working evidently in my life” sort of way.
Yet I know He’s there. Just like the wise men knew as they followed a star toward what they could not see.
I’m choosing once again today, just as the magi did, to follow hard after Him. Even when I don’t see, or feel, or—at times—even believe.
The words of a friend have been marinating in my heart and mind all week: God wasn’t in the hurt, but He will be in the healing.
That’s the whole point of December twenty-five, isn’t it? That’s the essence of Christmas right there—God reaching down to bring us healing. Coming to us when we couldn’t come to Him.
I think I just found Christ in Christmas. I’m glad you were along for the journey.
twenty-four: on the list
This is number twenty-four on my Christmas wish list:
That makes me laugh probably more than it should.
What’s something you don’t want for Christmas?
twenty-three: hours to remember
I was in counseling for an hour today. I used a few of the remaining twenty-three hours to look back over some of my previous blog posts. I gain so much insight—and even sometimes get a good kick in the rear—when I take the time to revisit things God has spoken to me.
Two old posts really resonated with my heart when I stumbled back upon them. Here are some snippets, since they’re worth repeating. (You can read the full originals here and here if you’re interested.)
::
Take all of me with Your gentle hands.
Even when I feel I can only open the door an inch, this is me giving You permission to bust it wide open. Even when I feel I’m unable to offer You more of me, this is me asking You to go ahead and take it anyway. Even when I feel I have no words, this is me asking You to respond to my one-word prayers for “Help” with all You know I need.
Be aggressive with me. For I’m not aggressive enough on my own behalf.
::
God’s heart breaks for my broken heart. He loves me that much. His compassion is that far-reaching. His grace is that incomprehensible. God’s heart hurts for my hurting heart.
The King of the Universe aches for me. The God who spread out the expanse of the sky, flung the stars into place, set the sun in its perfect position, and carefully placed the moon to simply reflect a light not its own… This God also reaches out to me, pulls me onto His lap, wraps His arms around me, holds me tighter than I realize I need, and refuses to let me go.
He weeps with me.
He doesn’t say much; He doesn’t need to. He certainly doesn’t feed me ridiculous clichés: “Smile, I love you.” “I work in mysterious ways.” “When I close a door, I open a window.” “Let go and let Me.”
His tears say enough. They tell me He understands. He cares. He sees my hurting heart and He holds it in the palm of His hand. And He holds it ever-so-gently.
::
I am so glad God promises to be close to the brokenhearted…
twenty-two: overflow mugs
I have a kitchen cabinet at home that is stocked with Starbucks travel mugs. Stocked.
And that picture was taken after I’d already weeded out twenty-two mugs to give away.
And yet, still, when I walk into a Starbucks I can’t help but look at their selection of merchandise. I can’t help but get travel-mug-envy when I see the newest, latest, greatest models for sale. I can’t help but make an occasional purchase. As if I need yet another travel mug.
What do you collect—intentionally or unintentionally?
