and hello, friends. The beginning of an end — or something like that.
I’m sitting on the floor in the Big White House in Palacios in a red formal, crafting supplies and wine in hand, instrumentals and Lindsey singing. The printer keeps humming as we find images and sayings we want to paste to our 2017 vision boards. The neighbors keep popping fireworks — they’ve been going for the last few hours, but as we near midnight, they grow more frequent and insistent.
I’m reflecting. This year — it’s been a wild ride, and one that I wanted to get off of most days. That seems to be the general consensus — 2016 was not the best of times.
But life is what you make it, what you pull from it and choose to believe.
My brain wants to latch onto the broken relationships, forsaken dreams, and lost hopes that vie for the most attention,
but this year saw a deepening of my yearning for Jesus. It saw a strengthening of relationships that are too precious to lose. It saw grace unending pouring into my heart, and joy unmeasurable in bright snippets flashing by, like the lights of a carousel.
So maybe 2016 wasn’t the best of times,
but maybe 2016 wasn’t the absolute worst of times, either.
My heart still struggles, just a little, to reconcile things that have been said and done with what I’ve learned. It struggles to accept truths that have been presented, but sometimes you have to stop fighting for what won’t stay with you of it’s own free will,
and that’s okay. It’s good. Change is good. To quote a dearest friend, “we all change, when you think about it. We’re all different people; all through our lives, and that’s okay, that’s good — you’ve got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.”
And now, I raise my glass to you and to me and to what’s been and to what’s coming. May you think of what’s now in the past fondly, and may the following year bring joy and peace and growth.
Happy New Years, my darlings (and please be safe tonight).