One Word for the New Year

And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.

—Luke 2:52

I can’t ignore it. Everywhere I look, there it is. My eyes are drawn to it. I look up, and there it is. I drive down the road, and there it is. I open a book, and there it is.

It all started before Christmas. I cannot say exactly when, but sometime around Thanksgiving—the time when Christmas decorations went up, when I sported a Rudolph nose and posed for my annual Christmas card photo, and when it made its way on the page of my Christmas devotion. It drew us outside the night after Thanksgiving to interest little boys in the formation of stars, and two weeks later it drew me to the deck to witness a seemingly personal meteor shower in the eastern sky.

Light. A five-letter word that has manifested itself in countless ways this holiday season—from the lights on my Christmas tree to the lights strung across the streets of LaPlata, the town of my birth—but most importantly, in the birthday celebration for the One Who offers new birth to all—Christ, the Light of the world, Who brings new light to our dark places.

With the New Year just hours away, many folks have already packed up Christmas and moved onto making resolutions for self-improvement. But as for me, I can’t bear the thought of packing it up, especially the lights. Perhaps I don’t have to.

Allow me to explain. Several years ago I read about an alternative to New Year’s resolutions. Rather than making a resolution, you choose a focus word— just one word to guide you in the coming year. The first year I chose “balance.” Another year I chose “perseverance.” But this year…well, it’s been chosen for me. I can’t ignore it. It’s light.

You may be confused. Balance, you get. Perseverance, you understand. But light?

Near in the New Year

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.”—Psalm 94:19

It’s one of my favorite Christmas gifts—a handmade (with the help of technology) 2013 “Addison” calendar. On the cover my 10 month-old granddaughter holds a 2013 sign, her big blue eyes wide with wonder.

Flipping each page of the calendar sporting a picture of Addie taken in the same month of 2012, I recall those precious moments—her debut in February; her first Easter in March; Mother’s Day when my whole family gathered for a photo on the church steps. And the summer months when I took care of Addie while her parents worked.

I remember cradling Addie in the crook of my arm, rocking in the old porch rocker, both of us lulled by the sounds of the morning, birds chirping, bullfrogs croaking, and a tractor chugging in the distance.  Addie’s curious blue eyes brightened, as she babbled in response.   I remember trail walks, Addie strapped snug in her stroller, mesmerized by bright green foliage and yellow butterflies, soothed by the rhythm of the carriage. I remember car rides that without fail calmed Addie to sleep. I came to know Addie’s cries, signaling food, sleep, or attention. I knew what would make her smile and gurgle and what would comfort her. Except for one day.

Go Build Your Temple

By Desiree Glass

As the end of 2011 draws nigh, you may find yourself reflecting on the year.  Maybe you look back and smile on your accomplishments.  Or maybe you look back with regret, remembering those New Year’s resolutions that you made in January that have long been forgotten.  Did you start a project that you never finished?  Was it a re-modeling project?  Was it pursuit of a degree?  A new ministry?  Or did you embark on a healthy lifestyle, only to abandon it a few weeks later?  As trite as it may sound, it is never too late.  Pick it up again.  Start afresh in 2012.