An Anti-Resolution

Ahh, a new year.

You can smell the fresh resolve.  Feel the expectation.

Dust off the cobwebs of last year’s tired, unanswered dream.

You know the one—that this time last year, you did the same exact thing: picked it up, wide-eyed, heart-racing... “this will be the year!”

…and yet, another trip around the sun...and here we are.  Proclaiming those same grandiose ideas.  Wind in our sails, breath in our lungs, we march.

Head high, hopes higher. 

And just as quickly as we leapt off, we crash.

It only takes one ripple in the wave. 

Not even a strong tide or a fierce current toppling its weight over our tiny selves; no, just a small poof of wind.

And we’re defeated.

We think we’ve capsized, when really we’re just not ready for the storms of life.  We weren’t prepared.  We didn’t have the right sail. We didn’t have the right clothes. We didn’t have the right mindset.

That’s why I’ve always hated resolutions.  In theory, I love them.  I’m such an introspective, detail-oriented person that I love looking back at the decisions I’ve made and critiquing myself, one word or action or decision at a time.  But the resolution thing has always irked me.  I am a firm believer that you have to be extra cautious to not set yourself up for failure.  And to me, that’s what resolutions are.  You’re pretty much doomed to fail.  Sorry, but it’s true.  Call me pessimistic; I really don’t think I am.  I’m very much an optimist; I’m just also very much a realist.  It’s easy to make these big exclamations, bundled by expectation and hope and excitement that inevitably, inextricably comes with each new year. 

Starting fresh, cracking open the delicate leather of that brand new book that’s never been opened, running our fingers through each page; breathing in the smells and the sounds and the excited energy busting with chances.   Unaware of what it holds, and giddy with the possibilities…it’s easy to feel excited, hopeful, expectant.  It’s okay to feel all of those things.  But it’s easy to forget the disappointments, failures, hurts of the last year.  And it’s okay to forget those too. I’m not saying to focus on them; I’m simply saying that we can’t ignore them.  We can’t be ignorant to the very real possibility that just as much as this year could be the year we do that thing we always wanted to do; be the person we always wanted to be; pick up that new hobby; cut out that old one; learn a new language; meet a new friend; travel to that place; there’s just as much of a chance that this could not be that year. 

So, friends, you have a choice.  Will this be that year?  Or, like every other year, will you choose to let it slip through your fingers? 

You see, we’re not gripping those dreams.  Sometimes, they grip us.  But usually, we start the year with an iron hold on them.  “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” right?  For a while.  But brace yourself—here comes the gale.  Then the thunder—subtly, softly, at first.  Then the lightning strikes.  Hard, fast, ferocious.  Drip by drip the rain seeps in.  Hopes muddied, dreams vanishing with every bit of the sun behind the clouds, off to some distance we’ll never know.  Some future we’ll never see.  That grip loosens as we just can’t seem to hold on.  Then, like every passing year, we let go.  Crushed, perplexed, exhausted.  We give in.  We give up.  Surrendering, abandoning, heart barely beating in its’ broken state of defeat.

take heart for I have overcome the world.

Do you know what that verse means?  It means that the battle has already been waged.  The victory already proclaimed.  The final blow was struck and we stand as victors.  What I love most about that verse is that it doesn’t say you may have trouble; you could possibly face something horrendous; no.  The Bible doesn’t beat around the bush—sister, brother, you WILL have trouble.  The storms are guaranteed, especially when we follow Christ. 

BUT

BUT

BUT

Take HEART, dear child.  The Lamb has overcome.

So this year, what is it that you want?  Do you want this year to be the year?  Then so be it.  Let this year be what you make it.  Circumstances will change.  Things will get messy.  I promise.  It doesn’t matter if 99.9% of this upcoming year is filled with abundant joy and laughter and dancing and singing and praising the Lord.  I guarantee you that 0.1% is just enough to derail your hopes and dreams for this year.  The enemy is so good at what he does.  He knows exactly how, and when, and with what weapons, to absolutely cripple you, if you let him. Stand your ground; fight the good fight of faith.  Choose to stand in the victory; walk in the freedom; soak in the promise of the One who paid the ultimate price for you to overcome this world.

Also?  That same singing and dancing and praising, in my life, has come out of those very dark and desperate times.  Those times when I didn’t think I would ever trudge through the flood.  When I couldn’t see past the forces that were strangling, stomping, winning.  And yet, there is only One who can, and has already prevailed.

I just love that word.  Prevailed.  Do you see it?  He came before (pre) and then all I think is “veil”.  And I think of the verse in which we are no longer blinded to the beauty of Christ—the day we see Him and His glory and we. can. Live. I mean, truly live the life that He intended for us.

So this year, let’s live this life that was secured for us.  Let’s live this life that was viciously, horrendously, yet sacredly, so ravishingly beautifully won for us.  Let’s do those things we wanted to do; go those places we wanted to go; be that person we wanted to be; but let’s do it with the assurance that even if we fail, we are anchored in the grace that never fails; the love that never runs out; though we may get knocked down; the storm may sweep us into the water; out of the boat—maybe that’s exactly where He wanted you to be.  Treading water, sucking in breaths of despair; seemingly clinging to nothing but the beating of the waves and His bare hands.  Live the life that He’s given you; whatever that looks like.