My New Year's Absolution
2020 - it needs no introduction, no explanation. The mere mention of these digits brings on a flood of emotions reserved specifically for the 365 days it encapsulates. Tomorrow we turn the page on this train wreck of a year and we do so with a bit of PTSD. I know I’m personally hesitant to feel the buzz of excitement that I normally experience as I embark upon the new start of a fresh calendar.
Our little family has a tradition, I’m betting it’s similar in nature to most of yours. We sit together as a collective group, decide on individual personal resolutions we’re going to commit to for the next 52 weeks and then we create a family bucket list of 10 items that we check off as we accomplish them together. 2020 has proven that we can resolve all kinds of things, but the control to accomplish them doesn’t really belong to us, does it?
The definition of a resolution is “a firm decision to do or not to do something.” I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost confidence in the inflexibility of this word. I made a firm decision to finish 3 5k’s and renew my commitment to the gym this year - then I had 2 knee surgeries instead. I made a firm decision to lose weight - then I was prescribed medication that causes the opposite effect. I made a firm resolution to excel at my career - then I found myself in a Long Term Disability situation resulting from a chronic condition I’ll face the rest of my life. I can resolve to commit to all sorts of things, and these things come with the best intentions, but I’ve learned (this year in particular) that the honest bottom line is a bright neon light blinding us with the reality that WE’RE NOT IN ULTIMATE CONTROL OF ANY OF OUR CIRCUMSTANCES. Only God knows the true path ahead and his resolutions for us may not align with our own. Our most sincere desires to navigate our best-laid plans come with zero guarantees and a dimly lit gravel trail at best.
So what now? Do we flail around in the wind and hope we land somewhere soft? Do we throw our hands up in the air and surrender to the idea of not making any effort at all?
ABSOLUTELY NOT!
I have a different proposition. Hear me out. This year, I’m making an absolution - a “formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment; forgiveness.” We can’t control each twist and turn of this journey. We can’t control a global pandemic. We can’t control certain components of our own health. We can’t control who will be with us this side of eternity as we ring in 2022 a year from now. We can’t control the actions and emotions of others.
What we CAN do is control how we respond to these pivots and trials in our lives. We can face them with grace, kindness, mercy, forgiveness, and love. We can release ourselves from the shackles of guilt that come with certain failures and mistakes we desperately need to move beyond. We can both give these healing gifts and receive them as we all do our best to nurse our painful wounds. These acts of compassion can exist beyond our outcomes and they are salves to our souls. They are also the very characteristics that covered the cross. Jesus embodied each one of these as he sacrificed his life to give us a future hope in this world and the next. We are free despite the chaos around us.
As I ring in the New Year at midnight, I’m absolved to ‘grace in the flames.’ I’ll be focusing on giving grace to others when parts of this next year don’t go as smoothly as I’d like. I’ll be more receptive to the grace that is offered by those who are doing their best to love me and, most importantly, I’ll be laser-focused on the infinitely uplifting grace of God and rest in the peace of knowing this particular grace alone is sufficient for all I will need to get through.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
2 Corinthians 12:9