Friday, January 1, 2016

Goodbye 2015




I perused my Facebook feed last night to read everyone’s 2015 reviews. It seemed most concluded their year like a long division problem, taking this experience divided by that experience, the result of both experiences as some sort of exact mathematical answer, drawing a clean, tidy box around it.


I don’t want to box in 2015 because I don’t have a final answer to whether or not this year was a “hard one,” or a “good one.”


I could rightfully describe this year as more painful than most, but then I would be forgetting all the moments I felt inspired, excited, loved, intuitive, creative, joyful. I’d be forgetting all the times I sat in the presence of friends and family and felt their warmth and love. I’d be forgetting all the times I experienced something or somewhere new and felt rejuvenated and excited. I’d be forgetting all the dreams and visions that led to anticipation and hope. I’d be forgetting that life is too intricate, too deep, too strange, to box in and define. 


Pain is hard, but sometimes there’s a sweetness to it. A sweetness to knowing you are not physically capable of zipping your own jeans, or ponytailing your own hair, but someone more capable is willing to be your arms.


I hope if you boxed in your year you’ll take a fleeing moment to reflect on the more microscopic moments, the kind you are bound to forget in the grand scheme of life, but that made a day, or even an hour sweeter, and smile at their goodness.

I want to remember 2015 like that. The moment a friend searched, with two little kids, in a clearance basement until she found the boots I’d wanted, and gifted them to me for Christmas. The moments gathered around a home cooked meal, laughing and playing rummy with family. The moments I intentionally cherished my son’s toddler chattering and playfulness, because childhood is fleeting. The moments I remembered to laugh and talk with my husband like we were friends first, and life-long partners second.

The moments I saw prayers turn to realities. The moments I felt the Lord was near in difficult circumstance. The moments I remembered I was loved, even if I never strived again to be good, or be enough.

That’s how I want to remember 2015.






 










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