Some people long for a new year to bring a fresh start, to hit the reset button and try this things called life over again. Some struggle with grief of guilt and limp into the new year with back bent over with burdens. Some once more unapologetically borrow last year's untouched goals and yet-to-reach resolutions and hope for better luck this time around.
But this year I'm finding myself in this unnamed category. A category of people finding themselves drowning in sentimentality, unable to forget the fullness of this year. The smells, the sounds, the sights still so fresh they couldn't possibly be drifting every second farther into history. People in this category find it almost a bitter farewell to change this 3 to a 4, as if all these moments that are held so close are in a way still in the present until the clock strikes midnights and the number 2-0-1-4 reminds that all those memories really are in the distant past.
But just as there is hope for the self-help individual, the guilt-laden, and the apathetic, I know there is hope for people of my type. There's a way too look up, to move forward. There's a constant to compensate for changing tides. There's something better guaranteed for our future.
I have hope because there's a God bound by no years or numbers. He's a constant. He is good. He fills hearts to satisfaction as well this next year as in ages past. He promises that better things are ahead. And He always delivers on His promises. He gives me confidence to face tomorrow.
So those of us who trudge on with regret that the best is behind, we're fools. We're unbelievers. We don't understand the good God has promised. Our best life isn't now. We have aimed low, because the best is to come.
May He, this year, raise my sights, deepen my trust, go with me where He leads, enlarge my heart, use each breath, and claim all glory.