As we reach the end of the year, I begin to reflect on these past twelve months. When I was a young girl, I hated the time immediately after Christmas. There was something melancholically off about saying goodbye to an entire year. After all, it was twelve long months of memories, friendships, birthdays, school days, everything that formed the entire world I lived in.
My reluctance to meet a new year mirrored my thoughts and feelings in regards to ‘letting go’. When I was five years old, I cried for an entire day when my parents forced me to get rid of a pair of shoes I had outgrown. I became so attached to things, to people, that they became part of me. Saying goodbye to those things, just like an entire year, was like tearing away a part of my heart.
As I grew older, I began to embrace the New Year with a new aspect, joining the ‘adult bandwagon of New Year resolutions.” It was those new resolutions that gave me strength and hope in what waited ahead. It wasn’t so hard to say goodbye to the past when you had something on the hook for the future.
Now, as a writer, wife, and mother, I see the timeline of my existence as something more than a New Year resolution. I’ve come to realize that time is precious not because the past is gone for good, but because we get to decide how to face the future, whatever it brings, and whether it’s the middle of June or a day shy of ringing in a new year.
Instead of making a list of resolutions, I’ve decided to start now, in this moment, to mentally prepare myself to have the best life possible—not year. I’ve given myself permission to stumble and fall. I’ve instructed myself to free my mind of restrictions, deadlines, limitations, and unrealistic accountability. There’s a discipline in setting out goals, but there’s an even greater freedom in allowing your life to flow in the direction it was meant to.
If I had to tell you exactly what my resolution is, I’d say it is the willingness to follow my destiny in whatever timeline, manner, and flow God decides to direct it. What does this mean to me as a writer? I’ve decided to be okay if I don’t finish my book this upcoming year. The book will complete—and publish—at the right place and at the right time, exactly when it’s destined to be. If that is two years from now, then be it. I’ve had so much insight, inspiration, and new prospective in my personal work that I realize I’m enjoying the journey and trusting the outcome. I’m writing a second book […CONTINUE READING HERE]