I find myself still wandering around in the old year working on the lessons begun there. I’m not as excited about a new year as I usually am. I want to be dazzled by the new number and the new decade but it hasn’t hit me yet.
So I come to you Lord, humbly, again offering myself completely to you. I don’t have it all together, but this is what I do know: You are my everything. I fervently long for your will to be done in my life so that I will bring you glory in this bright and shiny New Year.
“Our house was not unsentient matter — it had a heart and a soul, and eyes to see with…. We never came home from an absence that its face did not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome — and we could not enter it unmoved.” Mark Twain
One Saturday morning years ago, I was cooking breakfast for a table full of ravenous teenage boys. A thought came to my mind, “You don’t even know who you’re serving.” It reminded me that all acts of love are done without our awareness of the ultimate outcome. Who knew the character and accomplishments that would be present in the lives of those boys? God did.
Apparently God likes change. He seems to plunk us down in strange uncomfortable circumstances where life doesn’t flow naturally and easily. And maybe we can’t even find the toothpaste.
Recalling my childhood I don’t remember ever talking about feelings. The unspoken message was to be quiet and good. We knew our parents loved us unconditionally, but it wasn’t exactly in vogue to share feelings.
I like ruts. Sameness, ritual, routine. I don’t tire of the same coffee, the same neighbors, same food. I like living in the same house where our babies learned to walk. The house Tom built.
My friend and I imagined that theoretically we could have a tidy clean house with everything in order. But what benefit would there be to an empty house? We wanted to learn to embrace or at least accept the poopy diapers,never ending laundry, the continual spills. One day we’d miss those little rug rats.
The young man, David, began to share about his life and that he was praying for a wife. She learned that he’d been divorced six years and had one child. Because his priority was his daughter, he’d decided not to date, but to trust God to bring his mate at the right time. June didn’t understand why she was drawn to him, but told David she’d ask God for an answer and let him know!
I first heard about setting goals when I was twenty-something. I loved the idea. I’m a dreamer. For several years I would, excitedly, as the new year dawned, write down all the things I wanted to accomplish and the self improvements I would make. My goals would always include losing weight and eating healthier. I may have stuck to my plan for a short while, but I don’t remember experiencing any lasting changes. What was so exhilarating on January first felt like failure on December thirty-first.
What if you suddenly walked out of your home, never to return? What would your loved ones find? I’m regularly speaking to baby boomer clients about all their stuff, and what in the world to do with it? We were endowed with rare treasures from our parents and grandparents. Chosen to be caretakers of priceless antiques. “Keep these pieces in our family,” they said. I’m constantly saying to my clients and to myself, “Stuff is only (monetarily) worth what someone is willing to pay for it.”
