New Year, New Beginning

Happy New Year

I’m not even going to bother doing the math to figure out what “day” this would/should be in my Jesus Year Challenge. 1. I don’t enjoy math that much and 2. I would’ve written this post independent of that challenge anyway. I’ll get back to my challenge with a draft that’s sitting on my dashboard from my holiday visit to Bloomington.

The second half of last year definitely didn’t end on a high note for me, but after a nice break back home in Illinois, I came back to LA more hopeful than I’ve been in a long time. I didn’t really make any new year’s eve plans; frankly I’ve never been a huge party animal in that regard. Most years, I was asleep by about 10pm because I’d opted for the cheapest flight back to California after Christmas, which usually fell somewhere between 5:30-7am on January 1st.

On the 31st I spent a quiet evening over at Ree’s, eating dinner with her and Andrew and watching The Martian. We were all struggling to make it to midnight, and I ended up heading home around 11:20. I got ready for bed and decided to usher in the new year in prayer. Obviously I prayed for the health and happiness of my friends and family, but I also prayed for myself.

I prayed for the ability to be gentler with my thoughts and kinder to myself this year. (I think it was Amy Poehler who said that we say things to ourselves we would never say to our friends.)

I prayed for the strength to remain hopeful and to have faith, even in my darkest moments, that everything will be okay and turn out exactly as it’s supposed to. I’m still here and have a lot to do. That’s saying something.

I prayed that I would stop making decisions out of fear. That I would not let crippling anxiety keep me in a state of inaction, which is much worse that making a mistake or a choice that doesn’t go the way I’d hoped.

I prayed, with tears streaming down my face, and it felt like the perfect way to welcome 2016.

Be good to yourselves and others this year. It’s the most important thing you can do.

Prayers Max Lucado