So, by now, Christmas has come and gone, and all that waits before us is a new year. I’m grateful for this, as I am every year. It’s always necessary, and always hopeful. Much like the seasons which roll past and somehow renew our perspectives in the process, the new year comes when we need it. Those sometimes long, sometimes short months of a year that has been, well, whatever it is, is closed out, and in it’s place, we are given a new barometer for which to mark our time.
See, this holiday season has been heavy and rich, and deeply joyful and deeply mournful. We’ve celebrated with friends who announced babies on the way, we partook in all the traditional meals and parties, and we have mourned the loss of our family patriarch. I’m still reeling from it all, remembering the tears of joy, as much as the tears of sorrow. There’s no use in recounting all the memories from this past year, but its arc– this full circle of life– has truly been experienced and understood and felt.
This is why I’m so grateful that this time comes now, because I have a choice. To dwell in this place of the past year, or carry it with me, strong and understanding, and still so hopeful. And this is where I am, settling in to the strange hole of missing my grandfather’s presence on this earth, feeling all the feelings about such a great year together in community, and anticipating a new chance at making our life even richer, even fuller.
We aren’t bound by our habits from the past 12 months, and that is a beautiful thing. Moreover, when 12 months feels like an eternity, we have each morning, for mercies come new with every rising of that stubborn sun in the east. This is the good news, y’all.
There is nothing new being said in these words, but just a reminder that what was, doesn’t have to be going forward. Carry what you will, build on what you have, but keep moving.