Instead of New Year’s resolutions in 2012 that I knew (from
experience) that I wouldn’t keep, I chose a word for the year.
Or, more accurately, God chose a word for me.
Wholeness.
It was a word that I didn’t hear often; in speech or in
writing. Perhaps that is why when I
heard the word on January 1st, I was sure it was meant for me. And I felt a little like Mary, pondering and
treasuring my word and all that it meant for me. It was a word with such promise and
life. Who wouldn’t want Wholeness?!
The largeness of the word was completely against my
character. I like specific, attainable
goals. Or, I set specific, attainable steps towards my goal. But I wasn’t given a crystal clear word to
chase after (likely on purpose). Sure,
wholeness has a lot of meaning you can go after, but the enormity of it kept me
from chasing after it purely on my own accord.
It was too big to master alone.
It could go in so many directions and mean so many things.
And it’s true—Wholeness didn’t turn out exactly like I
dreamily envisioned it would last January.
For most of the year it felt like misaligned bones being
broken and re-set. And healing. Lots and lots of healing.
I listened and watched for the word. It popped up surprisingly more often than I
thought. Perhaps I was just more aware
of it? Or perhaps it was on
purpose. And even more surprising, it frequently
got paired with other great words that soothed my ragged soul, like Holiness, and
Rest, and Peace.
Those were direction words.
Call-to-action words. I love
those.
So, one year later I sit here, up on a mountain I just
scaled (or at least a good ways up), looking down on all the steps, the
missteps, and the treacherous parts I went through to get here. I asked for those painful experiences—counter
culture, I know—because I knew that growth comes through “challenge” and not
through “easy”. And today, I’m different
than I was last December—for this I am glad, grateful, and encouraged.
My word allowed focus, where pointless New Year’s
resolutions would only bring grief and guilt.
My word allowed growth; it moved me forward and challenged me. It allowed for all these things because it
wasn’t the journey I picked for myself.
It wasn’t the word that I would have chosen. I didn’t choose it. It was the journey I was meant to take this
year, and I willingly submitted my ideas to the roll of the tide of God’s
plan. Always a wise choice.
So today is December 27th. And with such a successful word for 2012, I’m
already anxious to have a zinger for 2013.
But it’s not mine to choose. So I
wait; expectantly and submissively. The
journey is so much better and richer when I’m not trying to play the tour guide
for a trip I’ve never taken.