I've never liked New Year's Eve. Not that I haven't had fun on New Year's Eve, but the older I get, the more I just want to stay tucked in on New Year's Eve (it just makes zero sense to me to get into a tiny dress in the freezing cold to go out on the roads with lots of drunks out and about - not my idea of fun). And this year, especially after surgery and being sick and generally being moody, I was especially not looking forward to the new year. I couldn't really even put my finger on it.......I just wasn't looking forward to 2012. I wasn't even in the mood to make any resolutions......which REALLY isn't like me. I typically love making plans and setting goals, but not this year. I guess I just felt a little bit like I don't have much to look forward to (which isn't actually true). I sometimes feel that nothing in my life is going to change, which feels so monotonous. Especially now that I'm settled in WI, I could very realistically not have any big changes for a LONG time. Like years. And when so many of my friends have so many changes all the time (weddings and babies, in particular) it is just....oy. Monotonous.
And then it was Sunday and it was the new year. I felt pretty indifferent about it. And then during the singing at church, one of my pastors shared something - I wish I could remember more of the specifics - but the gist of it was that he had been feeling overwhelmed and hopeless during the week. His wife had some encouragement for him that he shared (and I can't remember right now) and I just felt like everything he was saying really resonated with me. I've been feeling hopeless.......Still single and it didn't work out with a nice guy. Hopeless that I'll ever find someone. Seemingly always sick and dealing with chronic pain in my shoulder. Hopeless that I'll ever get better. Just kinda generally bored with things. And I so appreciated what he shared: that I have no reason to be hopeless because in Christ we have the greatest hope.
So I cried through the next two songs (It Is Well and Before the Throne) because I *do* have the greatest hope.
......whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well with my soul...........Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and has shed His own blood for my soul............when Satan tempts me to despair, and tells me of the guilt within, upward I look and see Him there, Who made an end to all my sin.....
I was so thankful for the reminder that I have a personal Savior who does care about every detail of my life. That there really is nothing to despair about. That being single is NOT the end of the world. Sometimes I just need a kick in the butt to remind me that I have it pretty easy.
This is my "lot", like It Is Well says. Though it's not the lot I would have chosen to park in, here I sit. And God ordained it. And He cares about it. I think I'm actually sitting in one of the best-lit and most well-protected lots there is, but I have dreams of a lot where every car is a Lexus and they all have cheery children being perfectly well behaved sitting in their car seats, singing the praises of their beautiful (size 6) mother. That's the lot where I want to be. But my lot is perfectly fine, and I should enjoy it. And I know that I sometimes cry when I sing It Is Well because I feel remorse that I don't always say "whatever my lot, it is well". So, those songs were a wonderful reminder and a balm to my heart on Sunday.
Then later in the day I saw another great reminder on a friend's Facebook page: he said "In Christ, a new year doesn't equal a clean slate. Our slate is already clean. No Christ, no clean slate, regardless of new year's resolutions".
So, I'm thankful for a clean slate, whether or not it's a new year. My slate is clean, even though I know that I will feel the need to "have a clean slate" more than once or twice in the coming year. But I'm starting the year resolution-less, other than feeling resolved to appreciate all that I have been given and stop dreaming of the lot with all the beautiful Lexus drivers (as much).
2 comments:
This, my friend, like you, was a breath of fresh air. I love your honesty and willingness to be real. Hence the title of the blog, huh? I love you.
Love this, Hannah! Your perspective is great. And It is Well gets me every time, without fail.
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