‘Everything is standing just as before, but not as if nothing had happened.’
Tuesdays have never been for starting over, except for Garfield. Now billions have joined in the reboot, although what with millions of diets starting, I can’t guess as to how little lasagna is involved. Maybe by this weekend we’ll see pasta and all its glorious carbs resurface.
While December slips unsecretively into January, I am feverishly making lists. Ah, yes, resolutions! I have a clean slate, so anything is possible! Which is exactly what I repeat to myself as I crunch out daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly goals that even Wonder Woman (or maybe particularly Wonder Woman? That gal is busy.) would find difficult to accomplish. Possible? Certainly. Probable? Eh.
In any case, with the advanced wisdom that is bestowed in one’s late 20s (it’s a joke, people), I’m not so much concerned about the year. Slap a new digit or two on the end, and life is still life. It goes on. But what does have my attention, is, well…me. Tides turn, and moons wax and wane, and leaves bud and fall – but do I? The resounding answer, of course, is yes. Former things pass away – fears, doubts, desperately clenched habits. New things spring up – hope and joy and reawakened direction. Always pointing the same way. To One who does not change, yet changes us. To One who stays the same, yet reveals new facets of Himself. And I, for one, would like to be made new not once a year, but continually in His hands.
Happy new you, all.