A Fond Goodbye
It’s 8:00 p.m. on New Year’s Eve … and I’m going to bed.
It shouldn’t be that surprising: I’ve spent much of the last four days in bed. I’ve been closing out 2011 with a miserable head cold.
Between the NyQuil and the naps, the sniffling and the coughing, I’ve managed to plan my sermon topics for Lent and Easter … and do some reflecting on both the old year and the new.
The year 2011 has presented its own particular kinds of blessings and challenges. On the whole, it has not been an easy year. Some are like that, I think.
And so, 2012 begins with great hope and promise.
I haven’t made any resolutions for the new year, no drastic changes or dramatic shifts that will click into place at 12:01 a.m. on January 1. But I’ve been wondering, perhaps more than usual, what will this year hold for me? And I couldn’t help but think, today, of the speculation surrounding December 20, 2012.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not advocating an alarmist perspective, or even wondering of the validity of such speculation. I am just enjoying the opportunity of wondering about the coming year.
What complications will be simplified?
What friendships might change?
What hurts will ease?
What opportunities will come?
What new people may come into my life?
What will be the cause for celebration?
No one can know, of course, what the year will bring. There wouldn’t be much point in wondering, if you could know for sure. But I suppose that’s what this season is for: wondering.
Perhaps that’s why I shy away from resolutions. Resolutions seem like one more attempt to be in control, to conform our lives to some prescribed norm. I wish for the threshold between the old and the new year to be less about control, and more about wonder … about mystery.
May the mystery of this season surround you, and give you hope.