Ah, hello, New Year. It’s so great to see you.
And I’m already battling the feeling that I’ve failed you.
But, if you’re like any other year, that’s just going to be how we get on together.
It’s not you; it’s me.
And yet, looking at my word of the year, I can’t help but chuckle.
That can be sliced and diced so many different ways. Am I to accept the changes I can’t change? Am I to accept that it’s a time of transition? Am I to accept that I’m just who I am?
Well, New Year, if we’re going to be all Acceptance together, let’s talk about the newest member of the saint posse:
Oh, I’m not complaining. St. Clotilde looks like a great new friend. While I’d like to not have too much in common with her (I like my husband alive, and I like my children cooperative), I’m always game for new friends in heaven.
And yet, looking over these two aspects of 2020, I can’t help but think that I would have these reactions, versions of REALLY? and *dramatic sigh*, no matter what word and what saint. I’d be picking apart the ways they do and don’t apply to me right now, with no eye at all to how it may be an opportunity for grace.
Because, let’s face it, an opportunity for grace is less fun and involves way less sarcasm. For an opportunity for grace to really kick in, you have to be open, willing, and less eye-rolly.
I think, in fact, that means that I probably need to dial it back about 200 notches. Maybe that’s my resolution this year. And why not?