One Word

Although I’ve always hated New Year’s Eve, I adore a new year. The chance to try again, to get a fresh start, excites me at my core and is probably why I love going to church. Most years, I sit down and create a list of goals, and, while my list is often too ambitious, at least it gets me looking forward. This year, however, my wellness coach* challenged me to put away my cumbersome list and come up with one word to guide me throughout the year. “One word!” I protested, but then got to work.

A single word can guide us in powerful ways like a star . If a person were to pick “joy,” for example, she might be drawn toward those people, places and things that bring her joy. She might also look for ways to bring joy to others, as well. Someone who picks “creative” might look for ways to explore new things or ask more questions this year. Rather than restricting my view of the year head, focusing on one word has widened my view and taken my heart to unexpected places.

After coming up with many words, I picked the word “inspire.” Given the year we’ve just been through and the way I feel about our country, in particular, I want a year in which I focus on those things that inspire me and cause me to dream and look beyond. I want the people I see, the books I read, and movies I watch to inspire me. I want the music I listen to to rev my engine and live a more inspirational life. Not only do I want it to be a year in which I am inspired, I want to do at least one thing that’s inspirational. For me, that means trying something that I am not sure I can do.

I have no idea how it will go, but I encourage you to come along. Find a word and let it guide what you think about, do, and say. My hunch is we will end up having a wonderful new year.

* Honor Jones Garrett is a gifted life/wellness coach if you want to begin working with someone who will draw out the very best from you. https://www.facebook.com/groups/726006077863232/

my first action step was to put before me a picture that would inspire me daily. i can think of no better picture or story than the 1980 olympic hockey team.

Going Back

I made my way up the snowy road to the house trying to hide my apprehension from my daughters in the car. Summoning my inner little-engine-that-could, I tried to will our way to the top of the hill, but the wheels began to spin and the car skid during our final ascent. I knew we were in trouble, so I stopped the car before it slid into the ditch and told the girls to get out and walk the final stretch while I tried to figure something out. I reversed the car and knew I could backtrack and take a longer, more gradual route to the house, but I then thought I should try to make it one last time, only to slide the car into the ditch. 

I was more frustrated than frightened, but as I looked at the car leaning into the hill I realized it was an experience well worth my contemplation, particularly when beginning a new year. I wanted to make it, I wanted to go forward and reach my destination, but the road was too steep. I was given the chance to back up and go another way, but I second-guessed that choice and tried to force my way forward, only to slide in a ditch. A new year is so often about setting goals and moving forward, but in our determination, we sometimes forget there are other ways to get there and that we might need to reverse rather than plow forward. Whether in a relationship, a business venture, or even our faith, we might need to go back before we can go forward. The most direct route may be too steep. 

I’ll find a way to get the car out, just as I’ll find a way out of whatever ditches await me in my personal and spiritual life, but I could also seize the opportunity to go back and take the longer, more gradual route before I’m in the ditch, That way, I can spend my time on more productive things.

Christmas 2020

“Grow up!”

It’s something all of us have heard and, perhaps, said. Some were more successful than others at following the advice which often sounded more like a reprimand. Like the day I cut my hair and bought a suit two weeks before my college graduation, sometimes we think we can grow up in an instant. Whether in how we behave, the kind of relationships we have, or the work we do, there’s no end to the places in which we can grow up. Faith is another area, but at this time of year I miss the child-like faith I once possessed. 

There was a time when I closed my eyes and breathed in the wonder that is Christmas. I sang carols as if God was the only one listening. I gave without restraint and opened gifts with eyes opened so wide it’s a wonder they didn’t fall out.

More important, I listened to the Christmas story without dissecting it with logic. I took my place besides the shepherds as if I belonged, and welcomed the wise men, eager to see what gifts they bought. I looked out the stable windows and gave thanks for the star and tried to catch Mary of Joseph’s eyes as if to say “This is outrageous!” It was the night of nights, the moment when the course of history changed just because of the child lying in a manger.

Of course, I was told to grow up. Whether by more sophisticated friends or a world that suddenly became too complicated for a child’s faith. It was to be expected, I’m suppose, but on this day more than any other I give thanks for the time when my faith said, “Of course,” and my arms opened without hesitation to welcomed God-with-us.